Geoff and Marie Go Dancing

A couple of affectionately promiscuous retirees continue their journey. Episode 11 in the story about an increasingly improbable marriage.

Although there are youngsters involved in this series, they are excluded from any and all sexual activity or explicit conversations. Sex only takes place between consenting adults over the age of forty. There is a single brief reference to an historic instance of inappropriate contact between children. If that disturbs you then just skip the section indicated thus; +++++++++++++++

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My name is Geoff. If you are reading my stories in chronological order you will know that my wife and I are both retired and involved, sexually, with several of her friends. One in particular, Angie, is so close to us that we have invited her to be a third person in our relationship and, to that end, we are planning a Star Wars themed ceremony to celebrate our union in front of family and friends.

This account begins one Thursday, when our grandson had invited a friend's mum to visit us after school. Colin, said grandson, had asked us if he could invite Mia, a schoolfriend, to our wedding as his plus-one. I agreed, on condition that her mum was okay with Mia attending and approved of her choice of outfit. As we were having our costumes designed and made by students at the local university's fashion design faculty, at our expense, I had veto rights and I thought Mia's choice was fine. But still, if Mia's mum thought that her daughter's costume would be inappropriate, they would have to agree on something else. That was why I wanted to meet them both.

Mia's mum, well, she had told Colin that she wanted to talk to us because she was a little confused. I assumed that was because Colin had asked her daughter to accompany him to a wedding involving three people, with the participants and guests dressed in SciFi characters' costumes. I respected the lady for wanting to know a little more about us under the circumstances, before she consented.

Anyway, that was only one issue I faced that Thursday. The other was that the previous evening Lucy, an unhappily married artist in her early sixties, had offered herself to me as a free-use fuck-toy. Oddly enough, it took the three women to persuade me to accept her offer; I know... You would have snapped her hand off if it had been you; I'm a worrier, so I didn't.

The thing is, the girls (their words) suggested that Lucy wanted to help me to explore my inner self. As a retired materials science researcher, that wasn't something that came naturally to me: as an artist, it was what Lucy tried to do whenever she could. Eventually, of course, I caved and the following hour or so found her bound and gagged, tortured with vibrators, nipple clamps, heat, cold and whips before I finally had sex with her, twice. Fortunately, she loved it. Unfortunately Marie, my wife, found my apparent excesses disturbing. That morning, she seemed as though she was still trying to come to terms with why.

Marie seemed subdued as we ate breakfast. "Are we okay?" I asked, hesitantly, uncertain as to whether I'd strayed over some obvious boundary the previous evening.

"WE are fine," she tried to reassure me. "I, on the other hand, am finding that I'm not nearly as sexually secure as I try to try to pretend."

I took a leaf out of Ronan Keating's book, or his songbook anyway. Oh, come on; 'You say it best when you say nothing at all'. Surely? Never mind. I sat quietly waiting for my wife to gather her thoughts.

Her eyes filled with tears. I stood, took her hand and led her to the living room. I sat her on the sofa and cuddled up next to her. "When you're ready, I'm here for you," I told her. "You don't have to, but I hope you trust me enough to share whatever it is that's troubling you."

She gave a brave little smile as she took a tissue from the box on the coffee table. "It's such a long time ago. It felt like it happened to someone else, until Lucy described what you did to her: Then something just felt so wrong. I realised, only this morning, what it was."

I didn't feel so flippant now. But she was happy to talk without prompting, so I let her set her own pace.

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Taking a deep breath, she resumed her explanation. "We were both about ten or eleven. My cousin Paul and me. We were just playing together in the garden one summer and he found some twine. We were comfortable with each other so I let him tie my hands behind my back and he tickled me. It was awful. I cried. Then he touched me, because he could. I couldn't stop him. I was bound and totally helpless. I started to scream and he let me go. I never told anyone and, by the time I met you, he was dead. He had joined the forces; a Para. He died in the Falklands."

Marie wiped her eyes. "It was wrong but, if he'd said he was sorry, I'd have forgiven him. We were only kids. But, without realising it, I've carried that memory, buried, for years." She look apologetically at me. "I'm sorry, Geoff. When Lucy described how helpless she felt, it reminded me of that experience. I don't think I can do it."

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I shook my head. She didn't understand. "Marie. What I did with Lucy was for her. Yes, I went further than I would usually have been comfortable with, but I made sure that she had opportunities to back out or stop at any time. She didn't." This was important to me. I knelt in front of Marie and looked her in the eye. "If I never do that again, I won't care. If it disturbs you, it will never be repeated. But I will never ask any of you to let me do anything that would hurt you. Lucy wants to do it again. Angie is desperate to try. Sam might enjoy something similar, so might Megan. But you, my love, you don't, so I don't want you to. It's that simple."

"You aren't disappointed?" She seemed surprised.

"Not at all." I though for a moment. "Well, yes; a little." Marie's eyes started to fill up again so I carried on, hurriedly. "I'm disappointed that you think I'd feel like that. I will never expect you to do anything you don't want to. I will always accept "No" as a complete answer. No need to justify or explain. Are you reassured?"

"I think so. I think that I feel better for telling you too."

"What about the others?" I decided that while we were having this conversation it was the right time to set boundaries.

She understood. "I think I was worried that you doing this, with them, would normalise it. That you'd do it to me without thinking, or worse, resent me for rejecting you." She looked at with genuine concern. "You wouldn't; would you?"

"Never. I know who you are and I think I've come to know what you like. By all means let's test our limits, but never to the point where one of us is unhappy. Are we agreed?"

She seemed much happier. "Agreed. And, to be clear, you are free to do anything the other girls ask you to. It was Lucy who bragged about what you did, not you. And she obviously relished every second." Marie pondered for a moment. "Well, afterwards, possibly not during," she grinned.

We sat for a little while then went back to the kitchen, where I made us both a fresh cup of tea to replace the drinks that had cooled while we'd talked. We were just finishing the washing up when my phone rang. It was Mike. I'd offered to pay for him to take his wife and sister in law to the pub the previous night to spy on Lucy's fuckwit husband. I'd forgotten that he'd promised an update that morning. I told my wife that I'd explain later and hit the 'Answer call' icon. As Lucy was Marie's friend it seemed only fair she heard our conversation. I switched my phone to speaker.

"Good morning Mike. Marie is here with me and you are on speaker. Hung over at all?" We heard a snort of laughter.

"You should know, when you're involved with two women then obviously you get twice as much supervision. So no," he replied.

Marie looked enquiringly at me. "Mike, Marie is just finding out that I asked you to do some spying for me. Tell us, was Eddie there?"

"He was. And the group he was with were an obnoxious crew. Loud, foul mouthed boors the lot of them. Not just the men either."

Marie and I shared a look. "So he plays darts with women too?"

"Darts?" Mike sounded surprised. "Who mentioned darts? They don't even have a dartboard in The Fox and Hounds."

"Well," I explained. "Eddie told his wife, a friend of ours, that Wednesday night is now his darts night."

"Sorry Geoff," Mike replied. "The only double top your mate was interested in was bulging out of the low cut blouse belonging to the tarty looking slapper he was buying drinks for all night."

Whatever vestiges of guilt I'd felt for including Lucy in our 'language classes' evaporated instantly.

I needed to be certain. "Are you sure it was Eddie?"

"I thought you might ask, so I took a photo of my two best girls and made sure that my target was clearly visible behind them. I'm sending it now." A picture of two pleasant looking women in their forties popped on my screen. Marie and I both recognised Lucy's husband in the background. We didn't recognise the plain, big titted woman with her arm around his neck.

"Arsehole!" Marie growled. I was puzzled. Lucy was admittedly at least fifteen years older than the woman with her arm around Eddie but she (Lucy) was slimmer, prettier and, from personal experience, a sexual dynamo. Why the Hell was Eddie rejecting sex with Lucy while he's all over the pooch in the pub?

I reminded Mike that he and his ladies were invited to our wedding and suggested that they look on-line for costume ideas. I warned him that some had already been chosen but they had all of the film and TV franchises to choose from, so duplication shouldn't be an issue. He promised to send me images once they'd made their minds up. Becky, his wife, was excited to be invited and wanted to do something similar for their shared lover, Ruth, though Harry Potter was more their style.

I reminded him to text his bank details so that I could pay my dues and, after we said our goodbyes, I turned to Marie. "Why?" Was all I said. She understood perfectly.

"I know Lucy is my friend but... That other woman, she's..." I was impressed. It takes a lot to render my wife speechless.

I had to ask. "Has Lucy ever said anything to make you think that there are some er, activities, that are off limits?"

"For God's sake, Geoff!" She retorted. "Only last night she offered herself to you as a free-use fuck-doll. She's always been sexually adventurous." She looked puzzled. "I can't begin to imagine what that busty blob has that Lucy hasn't."

Neither could I, so we shelved that conversation for later and turned our attention to preparing for our guests that evening. After changing the bedding from the previous evening's entertainment, we sat and decided on our menus for the coming week. A quick check to see if any store-cupboard items needed replenishing and we were off to our local supermarket. Marie hit the sea-food counter while I dawdled in the wine aisle. There was an offer on, so I loaded up on some old favourites and added a couple of bottles I'd not tried before. An Alvarinho vinho verde from Portugal caught my eye. It seemed an ideal partner for that evening's seafood dish. Into the trolley it went.

"What?" I tried to look innocent when Marie caught up with me. "There's twenty percent off. The more I buy, the more we save." She shook her head and guided me gently, but firmly, to the produce aisle. We returned home without further incident.

Angie joined us after lunch and we worked happily together prepping for our evening meal. There would be six of us at the table, but we made sure that there would be some leftovers for Linda, our daughter. She was taking the opportunity to use her early finish to get her hair done while Colin ate with us.

Short grain rice, seafood, onion, peppers, garlic and peas. Fish stock, tomatoes, chorizo and a pinch of saffron. All laid out ready for Marie to cook. It was her turn, once we'd had a chat with our visitors.

"Angie?" I asked, to get her attention.

She looked up from cleaning a piece of squid. "Yes dear?" We were being unusually domesticated so her mischievous grin was probably warranted.

I know you helped me cook breakfast, but you've never invited us to eat at your place. Do you cook or what?"

I noticed that my wife was now concentrating very intently on de-veining a prawn, suspiciously so.

"I can cook," Angie admitted. I could tell that there was a 'but' about to make an appearance. "Quite well, in fact. But." Yes! I knew it was coming. "I get really bitchy if someone is helping in my kitchen and they don't do exactly as I say."

"But you're okay doing this?" I persisted.

"Of course." She seemed to find the question rather ridiculous. "You ask me to rinse this; I'll rinse it. We're fine. But: In my kitchen, if I ask you to brown some onion in a pan, I expect you to use the correct pan, the right amount of the right sort of oil and to produce perfectly sliced onion cooked to precisely the right colour exactly when I need it. Otherwise I tend to get a bit cross." She looked a little uncomfortable. "I know. That makes me sound like Gordon Ramsey with tits, but it's how I am."

Marie was trying to keep a straight face but eventually surrendered. "I once tried to help her prepare a meal to impress her first husband's boss and his wife. I was slicing some carrots and the julienne were slightly different sizes. She threw them in the bin and we nearly came to blows. In the end I just did the washing up and let her highness rule the kitchen. It wasn't worth the grief." Marie reached across and hugged her friend. "I still love you though. Even after that." They were both laughing as we finished off and tidied up.

We sat and watched some more of our Star Wars episodes while we waited for Mia's mum to arrive with the two teens. Exactly on schedule, the front door burst open and Colin bawled, "Hi everybody. We're here!" Marie went to greet our visitors while Angie and I turned off the TV and stood ready to meet Mia and her mum for the first time.

Colin booled in first, dragging a tall, pretty teenage girl by the hand. "This is Mia," he informed us. "This is my grandad," he pointed me out to his friend. "And this is Grangie," he said proudly. "They're all really clever, but Grangie is especially smart." He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. "She's why your mum wants to meet. I think we're best off keeping out of the way." He dragged her away to the study giving her little chance to say anything but a squeaked, "Hi" before they disappeared.

Marie ushered a buxom woman in her late thirties, an amazon, think Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones, into the room and they both stood for a moment, presumably wondering where the kids were. Marie collected her wits. "Wendy, this is my husband Geoff." I nodded a welcome. "And this is our special friend Angie." Angie copied my greeting. "Obviously, this is Mia's mum, Wendy."

Now the introductions were done, Marie asked if Wendy wanted a drink and we all decided on a cup of tea. Angie was anxious to help, she isn't at her best in situations like this, so it fell to me to entertain our guest. We chatted about the two kids and I took the opportunity to size up our new acquaintance. That was probably a rather Freudian slip. Wendy was a big lady. Not obese, even plump would be a misdescription; it just seemed as though there was a lot of her. She seemed to relax as we spoke. Colin was obviously comfortable in our home, the noises from the kitchen were reassuringly domestic and I made it a point not to stare at her magnificent bosom.

She was, in fact, a rather attractive woman. Pleasant, open features, a nice smile, long brown hair past her shoulders and, as I may have implied, spectacularly large tits. I made a mental note to ask Marie what cup size she thought Wendy required: purely for reporting purposes, of course. The other thing of note was that she was at least as tall as me; probably an inch or more taller.

Marie bustled in carrying a tray with four cups and Angie followed with a plate bearing biscuits and cakes. Marie excused herself for a moment while she went to remind Colin to make sure his guest was properly catered for. Apparently they assured her that they were fine and would raid the kitchen once homework was done.

Marie looked to me. Right; I was elected spokesman. "So Wendy," I began, settling back in my seat to seem less intense. "Colin has invited Mia to be his plus one at our ceremony and you are wondering what's going on. Is that a fair summary?"

She took a sip of her tea before she replied. "I'm sure you can see why that is. I don't mean to pry but Mia's welfare has to be my priority."

Neither of the girls seemed inclined to contribute yet so I soldiered on. "Angie here has been my wife's closest friend, since before we were married. I've always been fond of her too. But recently," I looked at the girls, they seemed happy with my approach. "Our feelings have intensified and we both regard her as being more than just a friend. We realised that we are both emotionally attached to her, and her to us." I paused to make sure that Wendy was on the same page, or at least not stricken with horror. In the absence of any expression of disgust, I continued. "We want to declare our affection publicly and formalise, as best we can within the law, our new relationship. Marie and I have already had a traditional wedding; so has Angela; twice, in fact. We decided that a themed ceremony might be more entertaining for us and our guests."

She seemed interested rather than appalled so I kept going. "Hence Colin's invitation to Mia to accompany him in a costume to fit in with our Star Wars theme." I decided that was a good place to stop for feedback.

"So this 'ceremony' that Colin has invited my daughter to is to acknowledge you two, a legally married couple, inviting you, Angela, into your relationship?" She paused, gazing thoughtfully at us all. "That's so lovely. I wish more people would open themselves up to their feelings like that." Her smile as she spoke illuminated the room.

"Does that mean you are okay with Mia attending with Colin?" Marie asked. "They will be the youngest ones there."

Wendy was dismissive. "Colin is a lovely polite lad. His mother seems nice and I'm not getting any worrying vibes from any of you. I'm happy and Mia seems keen to be there."

"Has she discussed her outfit?" That was me.

"Her dad was a fan of the films, so I think I've seen them all. Most of the costumes are fairly tame, and the one Mia showed me, the white stretch suit, is no more revealing than the tight joggers and crop tops girls her age wear every weekend to go shopping." She looked a little wistful.

I glanced at my wife and got an almost imperceptible nod in reply. "Wendy. If you'd like, we'd be happy to extend the invitation to you too; if you don't think Mia would think you were being a third wheel on their date."

"Who would I go as?" She snorted. "Jabba the Hutt? I mean, look at me."

We did. She was tall, broad shouldered but proportioned, with an actual waistline. Her long hair and feminine features rather mitigated her size. Did I mention her boobs? She had a lovely complexion too. All in all she was a big sexy woman who didn't see what we did.

Angie said what I was just beginning to consider. "Cara Dune," she blurted out. Then, putting her hand to her mouth, she looked to me to rescue her. Wendy seemed nonplussed.

"We're part way through watching some TV spinoffs," I explained. "Angie and I admit to being SciFi nerds. One of the female characters, Cara Dune, is a powerfully built woman. Let Marie show you the costume she has chosen already while Angie finds some Cara images. Meanwhile, I'll go and check on the kids."