Memories and Possibilities Ch. 02

Recap: On a business trip in his own plane down the Caribbean chain, Jonathan disappeared, leaving a wife, pregnant Allison, behind. Jon's business partner Matt and Allison slowly develop a loving relationship, conceive their own child, and, after Jon is declared legally dead six years after his disappearance, Allison and Matt marry. Then, a year or so later, Jon unexpectedly shows up at Matt and Allison's front door.

*

Matt and I were home alone. The kids were staying with my parents about a half an hour away. We'd just finished dinner, when the doorbell rang – an unusual occurrence in our life. No one ever came to the door in our neighborhood; New Englanders always called ahead.

I answered the door, and there stood Jonathan – my Jonathan, my husband, my former husband. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God ..."

I fainted.

*

Both Matt and Jonathan were hovering over me when I came to, and I was lying on the sofa. Matt helped me sit up.

I looked at Jonathan and sobbed. I broke into hysterics. I felt so wildly conflicted inside. He was alive, he was my husband, he was dead, he was really alive, he wasn't my husband anymore, I loved Matt, and I loved Jonathan. My brain was a mess of emotions and wild feelings. I kept crying. My feelings ran wild. I couldn't stop. Both men kneeled next to me trying to comfort me and stop my uncontrollable weeping. In the two seconds it took me to process that Jon was at the door I'd become an emotional wreck.

Through my sobs, I blurted out, "How? What happened? Where ...?"

Jonathan held my hands tightly. He spoke as much to Matt as to me: "I crashed on a small island near St. Kitts. I hit my head very hard and destroyed the plane; I was really torn up. The plane burned, but I pulled myself away from it to the nearby beach. A fisherman named Daws and his wife from St. Christopher's found me and took me home to patch up. They were simple people, and seemed to care more that I'd survived than anything about the crash. I'd lost my memory and all my ID."

Matt said, "But that was over seven years ago."

Jonathan nodded. My crying slowed as he talked. It really was Jonathan; I fumbled for his hand and held it tightly clutched to my chest. "I'd broken lots of bones. Some of them still aren't right. I'd also lost a lot of blood. Daws, the fisherman, and his wife stopped the bleeding and put splints on my legs and one arm. It took me months before I could walk or even feed myself. They kept asking who I was and what I remembered. I remembered nothing. For a while I was like a pretty dumb ten-year old." He paused and looked at me, "Oh, Babe. I'm so sorry for what I put you through. I can imagine what that time was like for you."

I held out my arms although I was still crying, and Jonathan came into them and held me. My sobs abated even further.

Jonathan continued as I looked up into his face. His complexion was ruddy now – tanned and tight. He had a long-healed scar barely visible along one cheek. I could feel the muscles of his arms and chest through his off white shirt. "As I healed and could move around, I helped Daws repair his nets, and then I worked on his boat. I had to repay the nursing they'd given me. I became a fisherman. All the time I kept trying to remember, but there was nothing there."

Suddenly, I stood and hugged Jonathan to me with all my might. My initial shock at his sudden appearance after having been missing all these years was replaced my total joy and happiness that he was alive. Over his shoulder, I could see Matt beaming at us.

I leaned up and kissed Jonathan. He kissed back, and then grinned down at me. Through my sniffles, I asked with renewed curiosity, "What about the other six years?"

He smiled. "At first I knew nothing. I barely had any skills. They showed me how to do the nets and that became my life for the first part of my healing. Little by little, month-by-month, some things came back to me – skills and ability to do things, and then I started to get flashes of memory of growing up – school, parents, friends, and even you two. I couldn't put names to anything or anybody; I didn't know where I was from. One of Daws friends told me I must be from the British Virgins because I talked funny. Turns out I talked funny because I'd broken my jaw, and it didn't set right. It distorted my speech."

Jonathan went on talking about his agonizingly slow recovery. As I listened I became aware again of the magnetism I felt for this man – my husband or exhusband. He had a smell I remembered – a scent that turned me on. I flushed and probably blushed at the sexual thought that raced through my addled brain. I tried to puzzle through what his status was now that he'd returned from the dead. Briefly I panicked that I'd rushed his death certificate, but then I recalled that we were past the seven-year window anyway.

Matt asked, "When did you realize who you were? How'd you find us – find your way back home?"

Jonathan explained, "About three years ago Daws died of old age. I moved his wife in with their daughter on another island and decided to stay there – St. Kitts. It was more populated. A friend took me to a real doctor for the first time in years to see about my limp, my crooked bones and things. He started to work on me – to make me whole. Some of it was painful, but he straightened things, repaired my jaw, and fixed me up physically. He also brought in a psychiatrist to see about finding my memory. Every few weeks we'd explore the mental world in my brain, the few things I could remember, and started to build a profile of whom I'd been."

"So you found yourself?" I asked.

"Not right away," Jonathan explained. "It was a slow process. I had what they call post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Some people never recover from it. In other than flashes, your first name came up about two years ago, but it took another year before I even could remember my own first name. Even then, I wasn't sure about anything. There was still so much I couldn't remember – details – so I didn't do anything right away."

"Over the next year, the psychiatrist coaxed from me my involvement with the Internet and I remembered I'd had a business ... then I remembered more about Matt and flying. He had me start to search for you and for my previous life on the Internet about that time. Some of what I remember now, I think is really from what I discovered on the Net over the past year or so. Memories did return, however. I kept healing. Finally, the docs told me to come and see you. I'm still healing; I'm still trying to remember things."

"Oh, Jonathan," I exclaimed I threw myself into his arms again.

Matt and I became interviewers of our old friend, feeding Jonathan details and facts about our past together as well as asking a thousand questions. Eventually, Jonathan yawned.

Jon listened with excitement as I told him about his son. He said he'd remembered I'd been pregnant, but wasn't sure if that was a valid memory. He was glad that Matt and I had a child and married.

"Jon, can you stay with us? Can you stay here? Where's your luggage?"

He laughed and apologized; "I'm sorry for keeping you guys up so late. My luggage is probably still on the doorstep. I hadn't thought much of what I would do besides seeing you and trying to explain my disappearance to you. You were my first stop." He looked right at me, his eyes soft and yielding.

We coaxed him to stay. Matt helped him bring in his luggage, and we got him situated in the guest room. We all turned in.

I lay in bed next to Matt thinking about the chaos of the past couple of hours that Jonathan had been with us, the torment he had gone through to find himself, and the physical pain to crash and go through recovery only to have much of it redone a couple of years later to make it all right. Tears rolled down my cheek.

"You all right?" Matt asked in the near darkness of our bedroom.

I rolled into his arms. "I just can't believe it. I can't believe Jonathan is alive – is back here. This all seems like a dream of some kind."

"You thought it was a bad dream when he disappeared. This is the good dream; he's back." He hugged me, and we kissed.

He asked, "All those old feelings came back didn't they? The love? The yearning for him?"

I nodded into his shoulder.

"Then why don't you go to him – now. Part of this is about you, not just Jon. You need closure around this too. He is your husband too. Go and be a wife ... he's missed you all these years."

I pulled away in the dim light and studied Matt's face. The shadows revealed a loving expression on his face.

I just whispered, "Thank you," as I slipped from the bed.

Moments later, I slipped into the guest room. Jonathan was already in bed. He started, "Who's there? Is everything all right?"

"Everything is better than all right. You're here. You're home."

I lifted the sheet and slid into bed next to him. He was nude, a fact that made me remember that even when we were married he often slept this way. Jonathan opened his arms to me, and I rolled against him, our lips coming together.

"Oh God, I've missed you," He whispered. "Part of the time I knew there was a 'you' out there – a you that I loved and had left somewhere." Now Jon cried.

"And I've missed you. There hasn't been a day that I didn't think about you. I think in my heart I knew you must be alive somewhere. I'm so sorry I didn't wait."

"Matt is a good man. I couldn't wish better for you. I'm glad you married and had a child with him. You shouldn't be here with me; you should be with him. Go now."

I leaned in and kissed Jon. "No, I'm here for the night – per Matt's instructions. I'm to perform my wifely duties with you." As I said that I reached for Jon's groin, finding and fondling his penis. I could feel the shaft filling and tightening to my touch. Jon's breath changed rapidly.

We kissed more passionately, and the old feelings and emotions that Jon and I shared repeatedly in our growing up, our courtship and our marriage returned. My lover and confidant had returned, – and now I even had two of them.

Jon's lips found my breasts; he suckled them, bringing the nipples to a rigid state of arousal. One hand cupped a breast as he sucked on the other, his tongue dancing rings around the tip and his breath hot on the dampness he'd created.

I stroked his rod, my hand again getting used to the girth and length of his shaft, praying that it would be in me soon – bringing me on a new journey of love and appreciation for this man.

Jon's fingers found my slit. He moved tentatively at first, stroking the slit as my juices poured forth as a welcome to the attention. Then his mouth was on me, his tongue and then his fingers invading my vagina as my emotions soared to where only eagles fly. I moaned, and we communicated only by our groans and noises with each other.

My back finally arched as I came, again flooding the two of us with my juices as they flowed from my body. Jonathan lapped ferociously at my entire nether region not to clean me, but to savor each droplet of my emissions. I moved to accommodate his wishes.

"Jonathan," I whispered, "Make love to me. Fuck me. Take me. Have me any way you want."

He moved over me and before I could give further invitation, his long cock sank into me.

I came. I was like a virgin again, being deflowered once again by the man I loved and had loved for all these years. I soared again to that place where orgasm after orgasm rocked my world.

We fucked for a long time, and then Jonathan came deep inside me. My legs and arms were wrapped around him, holding him to me lest he escape and disappear again. But no, this was deeply physical and emotional; this was real.

We lay there in the dim shadows from the bathroom night-light. Jon held me in his arms and whispered words of love to me as we came down from our galactic heights.

Jonathan said, "I don't know how I can ever repay Matt for sharing you with me. I hope I haven't upset your marriage or happiness with him."

I nodded to acknowledge the comment, wondering the same thing. Had my moment of appreciation, love and closure with my first husband done some damage to my newer marriage? How had I let this happen? Was I so driven by my sexual urges that I did a dumb thing by making love with Jon?

"Go and be sure he's all right," Jonathan urged. "I can't reverse the past hour, but if there's trouble we should face it. He's my closest friend, and I don't want him to be hurt in any way by my transgressions."

A cheery male voice sounded from the doorway: "He's not hurt. If anything, he's turned on by watching his wife and you make love."

"Oh, Matt. Come here." I held my arms out to him, and he came to my side of the bed. He was naked, his cock full and swinging as he walked to me.

Matt said softly to the two of us, "You needn't worry about my being upset. I knew what I was doing when I sent Allison in here. I could see the passion in both your eyes downstairs. Besides, we've had a passionate and a sometimes-kinky sex life, as I learned the two of you did. We've often talked or role-played having a third man in our lovemaking. Sharing her with you is just an extension of the eroticism we bring to each other in our relationship."

As Matt sat beside me, my hand automatically found his shaft and started to stroke him. It was second nature to me – to the two of us. Jonathan watched with fascination; however, my other hand found his cock and started to stroke that beast as well.

Matt said, "May I borrow my wife back for a few moments to make love to her. With two of us, she'll be the most loved woman in the state."

Jonathan asked with a touch of concern, "You want me to leave?"

Before Matt could answer, I pulled Jon to me and kissed him passionately. My hand more energetically pumped his rod, now recovering from our first lovemaking session. "No. Stay and watch. Then you do me again, and then Matt will do me again." I spoke the words with authority; they were decisive and there was to be no argument.

I pushed Matt back on the bed and mounted him, sinking my flooded pussy down on his shaft. I was well lubricated with Jon's cum, and it oozed from around my union with Matt, but he didn't seem to mind. We started to grind into each other.

I leaned down and inhaled Jonathan's cock into my mouth. Matt watched me such on Jon's cock and pumped harder into my body with his shaft. I did everything I could think of to Jon's stick: licking, lapping, and making obscene noises as I blew him.

Then I opted for dirty talk. "I love the feeling of a cock back in my cum-filled pussy. Can you feel how squishy I am – I'm full of cum. I love fucking – making love – both. I love this cock in my hand as another fills my cunt. Pump hard. Cum in me. Leave lots of cum in me – on me. I'm everyone's slut tonight. You can both have me as often as you want – in any position you want – any way you want. I just want lots of cock inside me, thrusting hard into me, filling me with all you can give me."

I came. Matt came too. I'd talked myself into an orgasm – a cum-slut loving orgasm. Matt's shots of cum were strong, the strongest I'd felt in months as he ejaculated into me. I fell on his chest and showered him with kisses. Beside us on the bed, Jonathan lay and stroked his rod.

I rolled off Matt so I was between the two men. A large dollop of cum exited my cunt and dropped on Matt's abdomen. I realized it was the combined fluids of my two lovers – my two husbands. I leaned down and lapped the creamy liquid into my mouth. It tasted like a love potion – a brew made just for me.

"Do her," I heard Matt say to Jonathan. "Make love to her again."

Jonathan again approached me missionary style, and drove into me, although this time he kneeled above me so that we could all watch his cock slowly going into my pussy – and Matt and I most certainly watched. It was lovely. I held Matt's cock, feeling the pole harden as Jon commenced stroke after stroke into me.

I gestured to Matt to move, and soon he kneeled beside me so I could suck on his cock, bringing him oral pleasures as well. As I sucked, I felt Jon drive into me all the harder. This might be a one-night event, but I would remember this forever. The night I got taken by two men – by two husbands. I was the wife – the slut wife for my men. I threw myself at both of them, my body writhing beneath the fucking Jon gave me and my tongue and mouth wild with passion to give to Matt.

Occasionally, I would pull away and talk to one or both men. "I love the taste of this cock I've been sucking on. I can feel all sorts of cum and cunt juice on it – my kind of cock-tail. Did I say 'cock'? Why, I love cock. All kinds of cock, like the one thrusting into my cunt right now. It's long and hard, and it goes deep in me. Soon it's going to cum all over me again. I'll be full of cum, and I'll love it. Cum. Both of you, cum – now!"

Matt spurted wildly towards my face, where I was directing his cock. His cum ran across my face, mouth, neck, and then down to my breasts. He came in volumes I'd never seen before. I lapped at the slippery white covered head as Jon watched and thrust all the harder into me. The scene must have been too erotic for Jon, for he fired even more of his juice into my velvet tunnel. I could feel his surges as I pulled him to me.

Despite my cum covered face, Jon leaned in and kissed me. Matt was right there too. The two men I loved bathed me in love, kisses, and the juices from our session. I felt two strong masculine hands rubbing the fluids all over my body. My eyes were closed in the ecstasy of the moment.

*

When I awoke, I was wrapped in Jonathan's arms. He was asleep with my head cradled in the crook of his arm. Matt was gone. For a moment I had to rethink where I was, and that Jonathan was really alive. I remembered the night before. Had it been a dream? I was sticky in places and elsewhere covered in dried cum. Did it happen as I remembered it? Oh God, what pleasure the night had been and what love I felt from my two husbands. I smiled when I realized that I was still horny; I certainly was a sexual being.

I started to slip from the bed, but Jonathan reached out and pulled me to him. We kissed, and I could taste my pussy juice on Jon's lips. "We're pretty ripe," I suggested. We kissed a little without getting too passionate.

He finally said between kisses, "Yeah, I could be talked into a shower." He looked around and asked, "Where's Matt?"

Before I could answer Matt came in the bedroom door carrying a tray with three cups of coffee on it. He was wearing his boxers.

Matt smiled at the two of us and said, "First course. I figured I'd wake us all up with some joe. I thought we could all go out to breakfast if you're up for it ... so to speak." He chuckled at his own humor. The tent in the sheet as Jonathan sat up clearly showed he was 'up' for something else. Nonetheless, we both reached for our cups.

We sat in silence for a minute on the edge of the bed. As we sipped our coffee in silence, my hand nearest Jonathan wormed its way under the sheet until I grasped his hardening penis. I wondered how we each viewed the 800-pound gorilla in the room – the fact that both guys had made love to me last night, and in a combined effort I thought as I smiled to myself. Just the thought again made me flush with sexual heat all over again. I thought further how I could be easily persuaded to skip breakfast in favor of another lovemaking session. I started to masturbate Jon beneath the sheet – very small up and down strokes.

As we sat I dropped the part of the sheet I'd held to my breasts, allowing both men to view me openly. I adjusted position and soon just sat naked on the edge of the bed, my moist pussy winking at Matt and Jon. I feigned innocence and total attention on my coffee, except now the hand that massaged Jon's dick was openly visible to Matt.