My Boys Ch. 01

"Yes. You know, he's an outstanding surfer." I said with some pride.

"I have no doubt. He was always an excellent athlete." Mark had grabbed my hips, pressed himself into my backside, brushed my hair to the side, and kissed my neck. I leaned to the left so Mark could look through the scope. "Wow, he is good." Mark started to grind into my ass as he felt me up. I could feel the moisture gather in my crotch. We were on our way to some good lovin'.

"You want him, don't you?"

"You know I do, but I'm not sure he'd go for it. He loves and respects you too much."

"Maybe it's time we let him in on our secret." I spun around, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

"You think so? I'd hate to run him off."

"Baby, Tim isn't leaving you." Mark shoved his entire tongue into my mouth, disconnecting as he went for my exposed neck as I ground my breasts and crotch into him. "As much as he loves and respects me, he loves you so much more. I'd feel sorry for anyone who ever hurts you, baby. I think he would literally tear them apart, limb by limb. I'm pretty sure that would include me."

Mark paused to expose a nipple and give it a gentle love bite. "If anyone should be worried about his response, it's me!" He took as much of my breast into his mouth as he could as his fingers slid through my camel toe. "On Monday, I leave for a week to look at the property we're considering. Can we set up a brunch on Saturday? Let's tell him then and see where things go."

With that, I wrapped my legs around Mark's hips as he walked me into our back bedroom. Mark wasn't any slouch. I know I talk about how big Tim is, but Mark could certainly hold his own. Mark was tight at five feet eleven inches and a hundred-sixty pounds of lean runner mass. I loved his six-pack abs and toned arms. He was above average in the right spots--a solid seven inches and just thick enough to let a girl know she'd been taken. I landed on my back on our king-sized bed. Mark took his place between my legs, grinding his full mast into my creamy yoga pants. His kisses turned passionate, deep, and complex.

I pushed Mark back to standing as I slid off the bed and onto my knees. I undid his slacks, then fished out his hard cock. I licked the tip, tongue flat, and pressed against the tender underside where the helmet meets the shaft. Moaning, he grabbed my head and fed me more of his amazing cock. I adjusted myself for better access, and I began to bob and suck in earnest. My hands settled on his hips, then pushed his pants down to expose more of him.

He was so worked up now. The gentle blowjob had transformed into a mild face fuck. His grip on my hair tightened as his thrusts became deeper, faster, harder, and more urgent. I moaned around him as I submitted to my husband. He soon wanted to feel my slick pussy. He pulled me up and attacked my mouth with his. His hands were all over my ass as he pushed my yoga pants over my hips, growling when he discovered I was commando.

He spun me around, bent me over, and exposed my sex. He was desperately needy. I felt the bluntness of his cockhead as he stretched me to accommodate him. His girth pushed against my walls. The underside of his shaft brushed against my G-spot, and I experienced my first orgasm on his cock. I was so worked up from watching Tim surf and daydreaming about him. It's no wonder that Mark's expert cocksmanship instantly sent me over the edge.

"Oh, you little slut." Mark growled in my ear as he shoved more of himself deeper into my eager, wet folds. My body spasmed and gripped him tightly, trying to resist his entry and hold him in place simultaneously. I squeaked and shivered as I came again. Mark continued to fuck me through my next orgasm, and I could feel myself building to an even bigger and better one.

My ass slapped against my husband's hips. The slapping sound echoed in our ears. Mark's fingers dug into the soft flesh as he pounded harder into my core. He was working on his climax. He was using me for his own pleasure, but I knew I'd soon get off again anyway. I felt it building.

His cock became a piston. It pounded at my clenching vagina relentlessly. The friction against my G-spot and against the erogenous zones deep inside my pussy was urgent, forceful, and exquisitely satisfying.

I shook. I convulsed as Mark sent me over the top, whining and mewling as he grunted his satisfaction into my protected womb. My contracting pussy sucked his cum into its depths. We climaxed together. He grabbed me around my waist and planted himself inside me more deeply than I'd imagined was possible. Trapped, I relaxed onto his cock and allowed him to keep me pinned against him. My hands held onto the arm wrapped around my waist. We fell to the bed on our sides as the moment washed over us. We panted and gasped for air.

After a minute, I went to get a towel for my husband and returned after I had removed most of his love from myself. I cleaned him as we kissed and reveled in our love and passion. He got up to undress and relax for the evening. I pulled my pants back on, readjusted my shirt, and exited onto the balcony.

I spotted Tim about fifty yards from the entryway. The upper portion of his wetsuit was tied around his waist. He wore a rash guard to hide his wounds. He said it's to keep from scaring the kids, but I knew it was protection from the gawkers who would stare and who wouldn't understand his sacrifice. I could still see the deep gouges down his neck and then re-exposed, running down his left arm, deep, red, and angry looking. I couldn't help but think he was still so handsome. The damage only added to his mystique, to his persona. I could see how he might look scary to people. I'm sure more than once, someone has crossed the street when they saw that Frankenstein monster approach. But for me, my heart swelled with pride and love. I couldn't help it.

I said a silent prayer, hoping that Saturday's conversation would go well. I heard the guys talking in the kitchen, and then I heard Tim's door close. I knew we probably wouldn't see him much tonight. It had become his pattern. He interacted with us individually but appeared to limit his exposure to us together as a couple. I could only guess why, but it was okay. I needed him here. I thought Mark did too. And strangely and wonderfully, I knew Tim also needed to be here.

I genuinely love both of my boys, but Mark is still my man.

I ordered brunch from our local bistro to be delivered Saturday around ten and sent Tim a text asking him to join us. Though it would make him uncomfortable, I knew he'd be there.

The next few days were nerve-racking. On Saturday morning, I made a pitcher of Mimosas, and I started partaking earlier than I planned to, mostly to settle my nerves. Brunch was excellent. We ate it out on our deck, where we enjoyed the food, the smell of the saltwater, and the ocean breeze. We were already on our second pitcher of drinks and were feeling little pain. We sat in a triangle, equally spaced from each other. Mark had his back to the ocean, and mine was to the door.

"Tim, there is something Brie and I would like to talk to you about."

I tensed up, knowing that this was the point of no return.

"It's personal."

Tim locked eyes with Mark. The reflective sunglasses hid those wonderful eyes, but I imagined they were dark, stormy, and concentrating on his friend.

"Okay." My man.

"Okay, please, let me get this out there before you respond."

"Okay." That was Tim-speak for: you better not be hurting my friend, or I'll break you in half, you weak human.

"Brie and I are in a, ah. Sort of an open marriage. We are free to be with other people if we choose to be." Tim's head spun towards me, but the terrified expression reflected in those glasses was all I could see.

"It started in college when Mark and I began dating. Well, I should back up a little. We didn't seriously date during our sophomore year. We were 'friends with benefits,' nothing more." I took an un-lady-like gulp of my drink.

"I told Brie that I couldn't just be with one woman. Guess I'm just kind of broken that way."

We all knew that Mark had narcissistic tendencies. He had to be the center of attention and the one in charge. I figured that his need to bed other women was a manifestation of his self-centered personality.

"When we decided to officially date in our junior year, we continued that arrangement," added Mark.

"Do you sleep with other guys?" There was a hint of anger and disappointment in Tim's voice. At that moment, I was glad I couldn't see his eyes.

"I've slept with a total of five guys, Tim. Two of them are here at this table. The three others were in my sophomore year before we committed to each other."

A grimace crossed Tim's face.

"I haven't been with anyone since then. We have rules that Mark has followed since the beginning. He must be discreet and let me know when, where, and who. He has to be safe. Absolutely no diseases. And first and foremost, he must, without fail, make our relationship the number one relationship in his life."

Mark jumped in quickly. I thought we both knew we just might lose Tim here.

"And I have. I've always put Brie first. I love her." He paused and took my hand, and smiled that amazing smile. "I always have, and I always will. She's all the woman any man would need, but I have this weird quirk that I, well, I need to sleep with different women."

Tim sat up straight, his glasses came off, and the glare he was giving Mark sent chills down my spine. I could tell that Mark was affected as well, his shoulders slumped, and he moved to the edge of his seat. Like he was ready to run. I reached over and took Tim's hand. His body relaxed immediately at my touch, his glare softened, and he looked at me, hurt. I saw the hurt in his eyes. I'm not sure if he was disappointed in Mark, me, or us both. Our revelation appeared to hurt him to his core.

"Why tell me? Why now?" Tim settled back in his chair, looking out over Mark's shoulder into the ocean. It felt like he also wanted to escape.

"Two reasons. First, I'm leaving for a week on Monday, and I'll be with a friend. We sure wouldn't want an accidental word to get back to you and blindside you." Mark paused and took a deep breath to prepare himself for the next part. I'm sure he couldn't believe what he was about to ask his friend. "Second, I thought you and Brie might take that time to explore your relationship."

"What?" Tim was tense again. "We don't have a relationship. I haven't said anything, nor have I done anything with your wife, Mark!"

I wasn't sure if I should have been offended by how quickly Tim denied being interested in me. I understand now that he was very attracted to me and that he was fighting his feelings every day, including that one. The way he would listen to me drone on about my day and the looks of longing he would give me from across the room were telling. I knew he still had feelings for me, but I could now see and hear the turmoil churning inside this man. He was torn between his love for me and his loyalty to Mark.

"I know, Tim. I know you haven't done anything inappropriate. I'm not suggesting that you did." Mark paused, remembering to breathe. "I also know that you've been in love with Brie since the third grade. I also know that she's loved you almost as long." Wow, this was getting awkward fast.

"Tim, have you ever heard of a polyamorous relationship?" Tim shook his head no while giving me a blank look. "Well, it is where a couple invites others into their relationship. These relationships can be in various forms." Again, I paused.

"I'm not looking to sleep around. I love Mark deeply. We've talked about this. An open marriage on my part isn't appealing to me the way it is to Mark, but having a second, loving relationship with you...is." Tim looked like he didn't know which of my two heads to punch. "In our poly relationship, I would have Mark as my husband and have you as my boyfriend.

"You and I would behave as any other dating couple would. I feel I have enough love in my heart for both of you." Tim looked back and forth between us, confused and upset.

"How the hell would that work?"

Fair question.

"I don't have all the details, and we would probably start slow. Who knows what we end up with over time? The three of us would have to define that." I sucked down the rest of my drink. "In the beginning, we would be together when Mark travels and maybe go out on a date a couple of times a month. I might stay the night with you occasionally, here at our home."

Tim sat silent. He would alternate looking at me, Mark, and the ocean. Then back. I felt fear swell up inside of me. I didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't it. He didn't scream, yell, or drag me off to the bedroom. We just sat there.

"This is a lot." Damn, in times like this, I hated that he was a man of so few words. "I'm going surfing." That was Tim-speak for: You two just freaked me the fuck out, and I must run away before I explode and make a mess all over your expensive condo. He stood and disappeared. We saw a half-dressed Tim carrying his board out across the sand a few moments later. Mark and I stayed seated and looked at each other in dismay.

"Well, that went better than I imagined." Mark started to chuckle.

"What the hell do you mean?" I refilled my glass, irritated at my husband.

"Well, he didn't beat me to death." That damn smile. "I kind of figured he might!" I joined in on the giggling. I think the excess drink may have had something to do with it.

"I guess that's a win." I toasted Mark with my glass.

A couple of hours later, Mark joined me at the telescope. "Is he still out there?"

"Yep, the waves suck, but he's still out there sitting on his board." I looked at my husband standing next to me. "Do you think we blew it?"

"Maybe. Who knows? His love for you is deep. I also know our friendship means a lot to him." Mark slipped his arm around me for comfort. "Time will tell. My guess is that he won't give up a chance to be with you for anything. We just need to give him time."

I'm not exactly sure how long it was, but we heard the door to the condo and then the one to Tim's room. Then a shower and then silence.

Sunday was more of the same. Silence.

Tim didn't interact with either of us all day. Dread became my unwelcome companion; I was so worried that we had wrecked our friendship.

Mark packed his bags, and we had a rousing goodbye romp that lasted into the night. As we were lying there, he pulled me close so we could talk.