Erectile Dysfunction Pt. 03

By the time we have each consumed every particle of food, his up-thrusts into my passage have become much more regular so I wrap my arms around his neck, kiss Terry quite passionately and ride his cock to another thrilling orgasm. My sexual host concedes he is all dried up, his balls unable to provide even one more ounce of cum for my body.

I lift up off him and take the dishes to wash them up. In the distance, I hear my phone ringing somewhere. Terry follows the sound and locates it out by the pool, bringing it to me. He has already answered it and is talking to the caller, who just happens to be my husband.

"Yeah Rob, she's here, hold on, I'm just bringing the phone to her now. No buddy, she's not in bed, we just had breakfast and she's washing up. Hang on, I'll put her on."

Terry hands me my phone. I place it against my ear, tentative, unsure of what mood Rob will be in. If he had fully intended to let Terry and I have a night alone together, then his mood may be ok, but if our night only occurred as a consequence of him becoming very drunk yesterday, then he could be pissed at us. "Hi Rob, how are you feeling?"

"Um, quite hungover honey, you could probably assume that. I really tied one on, didn't I? Err, how did I get home? I know I was out of it, but I think I'd remember having a conversation with a cab driver, if only to tell him where to take me."

"Oh, Terry drove you home in our car, the cab never turned up. They either weren't interested in such a short trip or your booking got lost in the system."

"Oh, that was nice of Terry to do that, but he didn't need to. I could have crashed on the lounge or found a spare bed."

I couldn't admit to having implored Terry to drive him home because I didn't want my husband near enough to hear my orgasmic moans or, even worse, to wake from his drunken stupor and come catch us in the middle of fucking. "Oh, I suggested he drop you home because I thought you'd be more comfortable in your own bed."

"Why didn't you come home with me, Ev?"

Oh dear, he doesn't remember making his short speech out by the pool, offering Terry and I our first complete all-night session together. How is he likely to take this? "Rob, when you told Terry and I out by his pool that you intended to call a cab and head home, you did suggest I could stay with him since we hadn't had one of our special ... err ... get-togethers, in three weeks."

"I said that, did I? Oh well, I guess I must have thought that was a good idea at the time."

"And so you don't now, Rob?" I cautiously queriy.

"Um, no, it's ok honey. So, I guess you enjoyed yourself then?"

"I could say that. Yes darling, it went well, I do feel refreshed."

"Is refreshed your new alternative word for satisfied?"

"Oh, I don't know, I suppose it is. Ok, if you'd prefer darling, I feel quite satisfied. Um, and looking forward to seeing you. I should be home soon."

"I might come and pick you up?"

"Oh really! Err, should you do that? With the amount you drank, you might still be over the legal limit to drive?"

"No, I'll be fine, I'll just go get dressed, I should be there in about fifteen."

He was gone, I held the phone, staring at it. Damn him! I'll have to rush around now and get dressed. I want to look respectable for Rob to pick me up from my lover's -- err, surrogate lover's -- home.

Terry reappears, still naked, "What's happening Evelyn?"

"He's coming by to pick me up in 15 minutes. My god, I've got to find my things and get some clothes on. I can't be still naked when he gets here, and you need to put some clothes on too."

"Fuck him! Honey, I like your husband, he's a nice guy and we get on well, but I was looking forward to us having one more special fuck before driving you home. Should I call him back and tell him not to come? He shouldn't drive anyway in his condition. He'd be still floating in alcohol after the way he was last night."

"No Terry, as nice as one more would be, we don't want to aggravate Rob. I couldn't stand having to wait another three weeks to have this inside me again," emphasising my statement by taking a hold of his semi flaccid -- or is it semi hard -- cock, tugging on it briefly. Reluctantly letting go, releasing this object that has restored my sex life in recent months, resuming my urgent rush through the house, collecting my clothes, my discarded bikini, a watch and jewellery. I was respectable just in time, hearing our car pull onto Terry's driveway.

Before opening the door to my husband's arrival, I throw my arms around Terry's neck, tongue kissing him passionately, rubbing my now clothed breasts against his chest, pushing my lower torso against his cock ... incredibly still responding.

Rob has to ring the doorbell twice before I release Terry. Pulling back, I look down to check that I appear decent, no protruding nipples to give me away this time. Opening the door to my husband with Terry standing behind me, "Hi honey, good to see you."

I step forward into Rob's arms and let him kiss me ... no tongues in this one. I have no regrets I had engaged one last time with Terry. I step aside and my two guys have a quick hug. Rob thanks Terry for inviting us to enjoy the pool yesterday and for seeing that he got home safely last night. He never thanked Terry for fucking me senseless all night long, nor for taking my anal cherry. What would Rob say if he knew I'd let Terry introduce me to anal?

Rob and I walk to our car, I open my door and slide inside. Unsuspecting, I drop down onto the firm car seat, and instantly feel a sharp pain shoot up from my arse, "Oooh!" I wince. I hadn't expected my bum to feel so sore ... coming without warning, I am unable to stifle my reaction. It must be the pounding my anus got from Terry's hard-on when he sped up his driving thrusts toward the end of my first anal experience.

"What's the matter, honey?"

I expect Rob to be still hungover, but he is alert enough to not miss my reaction to pain in the butt, "Err, nothing Rob, I'm ok."

While not wanting to prompt any further quizzing from Rob, I nevertheless have to lift up from the hardness of the seat beneath me, easing my arse cheeks up to alleviate my discomfort.

"Does it hurt somewhere, have you got some pain?"

Oh my god, how do I explain this? "Um, I ... err ... it's nothing really. My ... um ... bum is quite sore. I think maybe I've developed a haemorrhoid or something."

"Really, it seems to have come on quickly. I didn't see you in any pain yesterday and wouldn't the string of your new bikini have irritated it if it's a haemorrhoid. You should see about that. I can have a look at it for you when we get home."

Oh god, I can't have Rob peering at my arse. It feels so tender and sore that I'll bet my little anal pucker will be red raw. Rob would work out in a hurry that I'd let Terry quell more than my needy vagina so I need to deter him, "Darling, you're not a doctor, what do you think having you look at it is going to achieve? I'll go see our doctor tomorrow."

As we drive the short distance to our house, I sit in silence, curious as to why I never felt any pain when I sat, straddling Terry at the breakfast table. That would have been the first and only time I've sat since letting Terry probe my arse with his thick cock. It then occurs to me that, by sitting astride him, the backs of my thighs rested on the tops of his thighs so my arse would have hovered between his knees, not contacting anything firm.

The author comments

At this point in the story, we are up to date. The Saturday pool party for three and the subsequent overnight sexual encounter for two occurred only two weeks ago and all three parties tell me nothing more has happened since. To wrap this up, I feel I should have the last word.

When Rob unburdened himself to me over a few drinks one afternoon a few months back, explaining the sexual trauma he was going through, I didn't initially see a story in it. It was just one guy (Rob) relating life's difficulties as we age, to a buddy (me).

But, the more he related, I observed first hand how distressed he had become over his inability to get and stay hard. From him that day - and from Evelyn a few days later - I gleaned the details of her more intense reaction, how distraught she became at how her husband's failing cock will affect her life - exacerbating his own worries - I figured I should offer to help. I am not, nor consider myself a marriage counsellor, even at amateur level. I was simply being a good friend of this longtime loving couple, and I was disturbed by the difficulties they were experiencing and the effect it may have on their marriage.

So, I asked each of them if they would mind if I wrote a story around the pressures that Rob's unexpected erectile dysfunction diagnosis has placed on their marriage and submit it to Literotica. My only problem was that I had never before written a true story ... how different would I find this?

Well, for a start, as I set out to formally interview Rob alone, and then Evelyn alone, I realised that, unlike my usual pattern of writing, I couldn't allow my mind to drift into a fantasy world of good -- and even bad - sexual adventures to write of the daily interplay between the three people involved. Instead, I needed to meticulously write down all the graphic sexual detail they each provided, particularly from Evelyn when she got onto the subject of Terry.

So, for the story that you have just read over 3 parts, the content was essentially laid out for me, word for word, from some brutally honest telling by Rob and Evelyn. But, since they had invited a third party into their relationship, I only had half the story until I could speak to Terry. Now, I have known Rob and Evelyn, both as close friends and as near neighbours, for going on twenty years. But I had never met Terry, never even knew he existed or had become a golfing friend of Rob's (I don't golf) until his name was prominently raised in both Rob and Evelyn's confessions to me.

So, I requested to meet Terry, and on doing so, explained my background as an erotic story writer and that all of my stories have been published on Literotica. As if I was a cop reading a crime suspect his Miranda rights, I explained that whatever he chose to disclose to me, I could use in my story. Accepting my warning, Terry seemed quite affable and willing to participate. I think I detected some slight puffing of the chest as he considered he may be portrayed as a stud-like character in a published story.

So, I wrote Parts 1 and 2, running it by all three when I finished, to ensure they were happy that I captured their words verbatim. Wait a moment, that's not quite right. I redacted certain paragraphs from what I showed Rob, the parts where Evelyn became brutally frank and open about the thickness of Terry's erections and how fully she embraced her hot sex with this new man. As much as I consider Rob a close friend, I believed I had become an observer, not an informant, in fulfilling my task to write this tale, and he should only know, at this point, what his wife was willing to share with him about her feelings and emotions for Terry.

Was I disloyal to Rob for not fully coming clean on what I had learned from Evelyn about Terry and from Terry about Evelyn? Maybe I was, but having taken this on as a writing task, I figured it wasn't my place to disclose things that they were not telling each other. A difficult quandary and one I would not like to find myself in ever again.

Once Literotica had published Parts 1 and 2, their tale was in the public domain and Rob was free to click on to Literotica and read all about himself and his bold plan to keep his wife sexually happy.

I am now writing the last paragraphs of Part 3 - the final episode -- and about to post it to Literotica for all to see. If it were one of my usual sexual tales of fiction, it would hopefully have a happy ending, at least for the more endearing of the characters. But this is so different. I am attempting to satisfactorily conclude a true story ... but before their real story has reached its, hopefully, happy conclusion.

I have attempted to write, as detailed as possible, the words used by each participant to vividly describe their personal circumstances to me, and without sensationalising it. ED is a cruel condition that confronts way too many good men in their later years. I decided to write about it in a Literotica story to let its effects be known to as wide an audience around the world as possible.

Where to from here for Rob, Evelyn and Terry? Who knows?

The very latest information I have, from phone calls with each last night, is that their three-person relationship is ongoing. It is three months since Rob made that Sunday evening call to Terry, inviting him into an unusual situation -- granting him freedom to fuck Evelyn in the manner and style to which she had become accustomed ... and, it would seem, considered a way of life she should not relinquish.

Rob finds coping with Evelyn's six-hour sessions spent in Terry's arms (ok, not just arms, but impaled on his more than adequate erections) difficult, more so than he ever imagined when he dreamed up the crazy idea to keep his wife happy and sane.

Evelyn is so smitten with the man she happily calls her surrogate lover and sexual benefactor (both terms I used in this story are hers), that she desperately wishes they could indulge in their sexual proclivities every few days, rather than every few weeks. Rob's cautious and restrictive timetable is insufficient for the pair of surrogate lovers. I do fear for the survival of my old friends' marriage.

As for Terry, possibly natural because he's a widower, single and free, he relishes this magnificent opportunity, that has opened up for him at 68, to sink his cock into the beautiful Evelyn ... he's a very lucky man that his still works as it should, performing on cue. Although sporadic for now, he makes no secret of his wish for their days in bed, to not only continue, but become way more regular in the future.

I didn't know Terry before this story, so I acknowledge that could be a factor in how I judge him. But from our talks, he doesn't come across as lily white pure as he made out when he rushed to accept Rob's incredible offer. I suspect his true intention could be to steal Evelyn for his own in a flash. But for now, she is emphatic that Rob is the man she loves and she will stand by him ... except at those times when her pussy throbs for some hard penetrative sex and she turns to Terry for aid and comfort.

I hope Rob and Evelyn survive the threat that I think Terry imposes on the marriage. Erectile Dysfunction is a bugger of a condition and can wreak such havoc on normal long-term loving relationships. With this one, only time will tell, but how long can Rob tolerate his wife getting her bit on the side? Let's face it, the road they have chosen to travel is a risky one, introducing another (sexual) party into their lives. I will add too my personal view that I think that Evelyn has been very selfish through all of this.

I thank you all (the readers) for engaging with me in this tale, some of you choosing to share with me your own experiences with ED. I hope that I have done Evelyn and Rob's story justice and you all should be congratulated for making it to what I am calling the end. I hope you may have gleaned something from the tale.

While I consider this the end of the story, one never knows when writing a true story. A sequel may yet evolve if an unexpected twist occurs.

The End