Jennifer Too

It was less than two miles home and we were there in a couple of minutes. We went to Jenny's house first. It was the same floor plan as our house but had desert landscape rather than a lawn. At the curb, Jenny swung the door open and slid half way out. I stared unapologetically at her legs, revealed more than half way up her thigh.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said my wife, an odd inflection to the simple single syllable.

"Positively sure?"

"Positively."

The brunette leaned back in the car door and when she attempted a gentle kiss on the cheek women so often seem to give each other I could swear she missed and instead kissed my wife gently on the lips. She closed the car door.

The driver swung wide, drove the block to our street and then pulled up at our driveway. I felt a slight sadness. A simple thank you for the invitation would have been enough. I had felt that connection earlier. I had called it chemistry and had spent a goodly amount of time contemplating Monday morning just after eight when Roscoe would relieve himself on my lawn and I would get to smile at her again. Perhaps, I thought now, I was wrong. More likely, I supposed, something had been said between the women. Some gentle reminder had been passed that I was taken and that our overly polite conversation was being taken as an inappropriate flirtation that my wife had put an end to.

Either way, it would be bad to let on to my Jennifer that I felt one way or the other about it. I was minutes away from taking her to bed. She somehow both suspected my attraction and forgave me for it. It was really more understanding than any man could expect of his wife of almost twenty years. In the house she fetched glasses and suggested I open a bottle of Prosecco. She was a fan of the sweet bubbly wine.

I handed her a filled glass and she finished it quickly swallowing deeply as if finishing a bottle of water. "I wish the spa was hot."

"I need to get it fixed."

"Yes you do." She kissed me again. I refilled her glass and set the bottle aside. She slowly unbuttoned my shirt, one button at a time. Occasionally she would pause to take another sip of wine. "You really don't think she's prettier than I am?" she asked quietly.

"Not even close."

"You lie."

"Not at all." At that moment, as I ran the back of my fingers over her breast and traced out the outline of a firm nipple beneath the thin white fabric I was being honest, they did not compare. I moved my hand to the back of her neck where I would be able to untie her halter-top.

"Wait," she insisted, taking my arm in her hand.

"Wait?"

"Yes, wait," she said. She kissed me again. Her kiss was wet, almost sloppy. She was close to drunk. "You would though, right? Like, if I wasn't here. You like her?"

"You are being strange." I told her.

"Just tell me."

"Okay. Sure, I suppose."

"You want to make love to her?" The question made that much stranger by the kiss she gave me afterward. I felt her tongue on my own. It was unusual for us to kiss like that anymore. I enjoyed it. I gripped her close to me, my hand firm on her ass.

"Do you want me to say 'yes?'" I asked.

With her eyes closed she whispered to me her answer. "Yes."

"Then, yes. I would make love to her."

"Do you want to watch me... watch me with her? Would you like that?"

"Yes," I told her, understanding what she wanted to hear. "I would love to watch you with her."

"We've never done that. You know. A threesome." Another long, prolonged, deep, sexual kiss.

"No," I admitted, my excitement at the thought hard to contain. "We haven't."

We have discussed it. Having a threesome had come up. Usually in our sexual play as we touched each other late at night with a dirty movie playing quietly on the television we had discussed threesomes, orgies, the types of things that happen in porn or in the erotic novels she keeps hidden on the shelf of her nightstand. We had never contemplated one actually happening although there was one night when I suspected she was attempting to seduce Tommy. I wrote it off to too much wine. We had never spoken much of another woman though. She didn't even particularly like those scenes in movies and would nudge me to use the remote to skip on to some other scene with some other combination.

"I think she owes you a blow job." My Jennifer suggested. "Do you think she would pay up?" Her hand was on the bulge in my jeans.

"Maybe." I said trying to sound seductive and dirty and still sounding more like a Muppet then anything else.

"I wonder what she would think if she saw how fat your dick is."

I relaxed. She was being dirty. She was in a naughty mood. There had been sexual tension all night. My attraction to the new Jennifer, her attraction to me, Tommy's attention and his groping of her outside the restaurant had her in a mood. I was going to be the one to reap the benefits. I reached for her leg, found bare flesh, and ran my hand up the back of her thigh until I had found her cheek.

"No panties?" I observed as my hand opened broadly to grip her ass. It was delicious. I wanted my mouth on her. I moved from her lips to her neck. I wanted to untie her dress.

"She took them," my wife said.

"She?"

"Jenny. In the ladies room. She was insistent." I heard a light thumping and ignored it.

"She took your panties?"

"After she kissed me." The thumping was more of a knocking sound and it persisted.

"She kissed you?" I couldn't help it. My fingers moved around her ass cheek until they were between her soft thighs. With no panties on I quickly found the warmth between her legs.

"I told you. She was insistent. Oh, don't start that." I could get the tip of my finger just inside of her. She raised her leg allowing me to slip deeper into her. "Shit."

"What."

"Was that a knock?"

"I think so."

"Shit." She said again, breaking free of me. "That's Jenny." She scurried for the door.

It's poor story telling to build the tension to the very brink of crescendo only to break away to describe the bounding frolicsome energy of a Golden Retriever exploring a the smells of an environment it has never been in before but that is life. Life is your young child barging in the bedroom when your wife finally goes down on you after a month of marital celibacy. It is the difference between the impossibility of actual penetration in cold pool water and what Mel Gibson and Michele Pfifer manage to do in the Jacuzzi in Tequila sunrise.

Real life is the awkwardness between three people, brought together half intoxicated on a Friday night as they sit nervously in the living room sipping sparkling white wine.

"Can I get you something to eat?"

"Oh no, I am fine."

"Your dog is sure pretty."

"Thank you."

"I love your dress."

"Banana Republic."

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you. I love yours. Where did you get it?"

"Peter found it."

"It's... It's sexy. You look... You look delicious."

I loved that she used the same word I did.

"I think it's a little... I don't know. Too revealing."

"I don't think so. It does its job."

"Tommy... That was his name, right? Tommy couldn't look at anything else."

"He likes my chest."

"I like your chest."

Jennifer blushed. "I'm sorry. I haven't. It's been a long time."

The brunette woman finally moved from her spot on the couch to the ottoman, placing herself in front of the blonde. She reached for my wife, placing her hand on her cheek. My wife tilted her head into the woman's palm. Jenny, our new friend looked over her shoulder at me. "Do you mind? Can I kiss your wife?" she asked me. Her smile was electric and I felt the charge through my spine.

"She would kill me if I said no." I smiled. My Jennifer had her eyes closed. Jenny leaned into her. Their lips met delicately. I knew my Jennifer; she was not one to kiss gently. She reached out to the woman, wrapping her arm around her neck beneath the soft waves of dark hair and she pulled until they were together in the oversized chair.

I sat unable to speak or move. I will admit there is something to the videos you can find online of women kissing but they always seem to be young silly girls doing it more for attention than earnestly embracing. These women, one whom I loved, one for whom I had quickly and surprisingly become attracted to kissed in an entirely different way. They kissed out of mutual affection and attraction as though I was not even there. They kissed in a way that released tension they had somehow discovered as they chatted quietly all evening. Looking back I could now recall all the times I had seen them whispering to one another. I could recall when they had escaped to the ladies room together failing to drag along the other two women. In this moment I was extraneous, I was a distraction and hoped not to become an annoyance so I sat quietly without moving, enjoying their enjoyment.

I watched Jenny, her tanned skin in stark contrast to the pale flesh of my wife's neck cup her full breast the way I had just recently and I watched how, when she delicately took the small rise of flesh I knew to be her nipple between long delicate fingers how my wife was forced to break away from their kiss in order to gasp at the sensation.

"Oh shit," my Jennifer said gently.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked.

"Yes. Oh god, yes."

"Good." The woman said, kissing my wife again.

"Peter," my wife said softly.

"You're sure."

"Yes," my wife smiled. I felt more the interloper for listening in to the conversation than I had felt watching them embrace.

"I really didn't know. It's just been so long."

"Stop. I want you to." They kissed again and I watched, almost trembling, as my wife's hand moved up the woman's thigh. "I want to watch."

"But I don't just want you to watch." Her fingers slipped beneath my wife's halter and I knew exactly what the woman was feeling, her hand on Jennifer's bare breast. I was jealous.

"I wont. I mean, I will. I just, I need to... I'm nervous."

"Okay," said my new friend. She kissed my wife again and then released her, rising out of her lap, standing. She turned to me.

"We should go to the bedroom," I suggested.

"Yes!" agreed my wife.

I met Jenny half way across the room. She was taller than I had realized, she still wore her heels, wedges she had worn to dinner, but I still had to bend down slightly to kiss her. Unlike my wife's firm kisses, her lips were soft. They felt like flower petals tickling my lips. Her tongue was thin when she pressed it into my mouth. Jennifer had undone my shirt earlier and now the new woman ran her hands along my chest as our lips tasted and teased each other. Jennifer called to us from the bedroom. I broke our kiss and smiled at her.

"I never imagined..." I said.

"No? Not even when I bent over in my gym shorts?" she teased me.

"Maybe I imagined a little." I grinned.

Her face turned more serious for a moment. "It's been a really long time," she said, almost embarrassed.

I had no answer. Instead I took her cheek in my hand and pulled her mouth back to mine. When we broke again we were both grinning broadly. I took her by the waist and walked her to the bedroom.

I was acutely aware of my wife, feet away, propped up on her side of the bed. She held her wine glass but didn't seem to be drinking from it. I pulled the door closed behind me. Jenny sat at the foot of the bed. She was unbuckling her shoe. I took a moment to fetch the lighter from the top of my dresser and light candles. Two on My wife's bureau, one on mine, and another on the nightstand beside my Jennifer. I kissed her. She looked up at me, there was sweetness to it, tenderness, mixed with the desirous look she would get in our most passionate moments. I knew the look; it was easy to confuse it for sadness. There was the same sort of desperation in her eyes. I smiled at her. She didn't smile back. She kept that same wanton look. I left her to approach the stranger in our bedroom.

Jenny had been sitting nervously at the edge of the bed. She had been the aggressive one in the other room. She had been the one to approach Jennifer. Now she was waiting, expectantly for me. I shrugged my shirt off my shoulders and it fell to the floor. Standing in front of her she ran her fingers over my chest and stomach, dragging her nails in that delicate way some women do. I was glad I had managed to shed a few pounds. I took her hand and brought her to her feet. She was shorter now, the two or three inches of her shoes removed. I kissed her again. It was a delight. Holding her in my arms, my hands on her back I quickly found the tiny bauble that was the clasp at the top of the zipper that ran down her spine. I flipped it open with my finger and my thumb, proud of the ease with which I released it. As I pulled the zipper lower, toward her small ass she inhaled. When it reached bottom and I slid my fingers over the bare skin of her lower back she exhaled and I felt the warmth of it on my chest. I felt the waistband of thin panties at my fingers. I descended to my knees.

I heard a soft moan from the bed when I pulled the flowered dress down the woman's body. Her breasts were smaller than my wife's. Her nipples, smaller than a quarter in size, extended off her chest more than the width of my thumb. I hated that my brain chose this moment to calculate how long it had been since I had placed any woman's other than Jennifer's breasts in my mouth but it was the way it worked and the number it arrived at was just over twenty-one years. With my hand firmly between her shoulder blades I pulled her to me. Her breast filled my mouth and my tongue teased the elongated nipple. She sighed, my wife moaned, my cock nearly betrayed me, almost wasting my orgasm by leaving it in my still fastened denim pants.

I languished attention on the woman's breasts. I had to spy from time to time on my bride, reclined on the bed beside us. I was astonished to find her dress opened, her fingers teasing at her own nipple, her other hand, nestled between her legs. My mouth watered. Jenny moaned for me, her fingers laced through my hair. She let me enjoy her chest for a good long while but when I attempted to move lower, when my tongue ached to taste more of her she pulled me to my feet.

The intensity of our touches increased as she worked to unfasten my belt. "Help me," she muttered and I obliged opening my belt and pulling at the button fly until my jeans opened to her. Her hand went directly to my cock and I struggled to stay standing. We kissed and I squeezed at her breast.

"Harder," she insisted quietly. "Don't be shy," she coaxed. I pinched more firmly but still carefully. She responded by releasing my cock and instead grasping my own nipples between delicate fingers.

The pain shot a bolt of lightning from my chest through my cock and down my legs. She pinched me painfully until I matched the pressure she applied on her own nipple. She took both of my nipples in her hands and I did likewise and as I pinched as firmly as I could, struggling to keep my balance, her delicate kiss turned into a bite of my lower lip that I could taste.

I released just one tit, pinching the other harder as if to compensate. I had other things to touch and to explore and I pressed my hand between thin thighs to get to them. The force of my fingers on a swollen clit was enough to cause her to gasp and she released the hold her teeth had on my lip. I lifted her from the ground with the leverage of a fully inserted index finger and she called out a prayer of "Oh God!" With her feet barely touching the carpet I held her like that by her pussy and tit for just a moment before releasing her onto the bed where she fell bouncing slightly as she landed. Her breasts bounced and her legs parted and despite my primitive need to fuck her I had to taste her. I couldn't resist it. I am addicted to it. My wife would tell you obsessed with it. I laid my chest onto the bed, her long lean legs at my shoulders and finally desperately I tasted her.

Each and every woman is different. I could barely recall that being the case, so much of my adult life dedicated to one woman. I could also recall through the dusty memories I had stored away that finding the right places on some women would be more of a challenge than others. My Jennifer had always been easy, her most sensitive places hidden exactly where they were supposed to be. My new lover, different in her own way, might have been even easier. Her lips were pronounced, wide soft folds of flesh, and buried at the very crest of them, her clit was one that swelled when properly stimulated and that now presented itself like the single candle on an infant's birthday cake. I pressed it against the back of my teeth with my tongue and she writhed, her legs clenching about my shoulders, her arms flailing over her head grasping at the cloth of our comforter. She moaned deeply and called out again. "Oh God!"

I eased my pressure. I teased her with the tip of my tongue along the full length of her delicate vagina. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh Jesus. Oh, softer. Oh god. Oh yes. Not yet. Softer," she cooed.

I felt a hand on my back. I felt fingernails. I looked up. My Jennifer was beside me. "Show me," she said quietly.

I teased our lover open with my fingers, parting her Vagina to reveal the clitoris. I licked it then backed away. I held it open. "Touch it," I encouraged her. Jennifer placed her finger in her mouth and then teased the swollen nub, rubbing it in a small circle.

"She has a pretty pussy, doesn't she?" My Jennifer swears like a sailor when drinking and cruses like a whore when fucking.

I licked Jenny again. She moaned. I teased her with just the tip of my tongue. "Oh God." She called out softly.

"Do you want to taste it?" I asked.

"Does she taste good?" Jennifer asked. She was shy. As far as I knew, this was all new to her.

"She tastes wonderful."

"Please. Please." The woman muttered. I pulled the flesh open and pressed her thighs apart with my free hand and shoulder. My wife pressed her face beside mine until her tongue, forced as far out of her mouth as possible, met the woman's most sensitive spot. "Oh God." She muttered again. I pressed her wider, moving aside. Jennifer forced her way in beside me until her mouth was full of flesh and the woman moaned louder. With a single finger I entered her. It was enough. "Oh my God! Now! Please! Yes!" Jennifer broke loose and I couldn't resist pressing my tongue into our friend, on her, running it around her and finally grasping her clit with my tongue and teeth. Her cries were no longer words - just desperate sounds of release and her legs extended reflexively, long lean muscles tightening at my shoulder.

"Fuck her for me baby. Fuck her now."

It was instinctual enough to need my cock inside of her, the encouragement of a beautiful blonde, her tits exposed, was too much to resist. On my knees between the woman's long legs I entered her. She clasped her legs around my ass and looked up at me. I went to her, laying the full weight of my body on her lean figure I kissed her and her hand clenched to my head locking us together.

I knew I would not last long and fucked her with urgency and a desperation. She clung to me, as an alligator would to its pray, twisting and writhing beneath me. Her moans were stifled by our prolonged kiss but when I extended my arms such that I might watch the woman as I thrust inside of her she went back to her persistent chant of "Oh God!" calling for divine intervention repeatedly. I came as quickly as I anticipated but I did not relent. I kept on, thrusting myself inside of her. "OH GOD, PETER! YES!" Again, her orgasm struck her with an almost rigor stiffness of the muscles in her legs. I continued. I had to. I wanted to. I delighted in the feel of her pussy pulsing and twitching around my cock. I moved slowly inside of her as she panted. I had to keep going. I had to.