Sex under the falls Ch. 02

As the front door closed behind Rick, Samantha moved to my rigid cock and began licking. With my legs dangling in the warm, bubbling water, I sat on the polished cedar collar surrounding the tub and watched my beautiful wife. I realized just how much I wanted to be inside her.

I leaned down, made her release my cock and I kissed her. She smiled but was still in another world that I hoped I was part of. I took her hand and led her to our big lounge, then laid her on her back, pulled her legs up and, holding her knees, spread them wide.

My cock was so hard it hurt. I knelt above her, looking at her slender, willing body. Her lower lips glistened, and I assumed some of the moisture was Rick's cum. As she guided my cock into her, the feeling was amazing. Her vagina was slick and warm and perfect. My wife squeezed her vaginal walls against my very stiff pole and brought me close to the edge. I started slowly pumping my cock into her. That lasted about two minutes, tops. But it was enough. Samantha softly cried out and trembled. I could see her neck and chest burn red as an orgasm took over.

I became a madman. I pounded Samantha's vagina hard. The thought that my cock was lubricated by another man's seed turned my pure lust into something even more powerful. Possession? Possibly. I wanted to bring her back from Rick or wherever she had gone. She pushed aggressively against me, meeting each thrust and breathed that beautiful breathy exclamation as she came on my cock. I pumped cum into her vagina, and she acknowledged it by pulling me even closer with her beautiful legs.

We stayed coupled until my cock softened. I rolled off and she propped herself on one elbow, smiling. "I think I have to go to bed," she said and moved down to my wet cock. She slowly licked off the combination of her own nectar and Rick's cum and mine. "I hoped you liked it," she said with a soft, sensual smile.

She rose from the lounge and wandered off. I watched her beautiful naked bottom as she danced her ballerina dance into our bedroom. When I got there, just a few minutes later, she was sound asleep.

***

I awoke early. Moonlight was quickly being overtaken by the dawn. Samantha lay sprawled next to me. Her nipples still looked aroused and her legs were open, displaying her slightly puffy labia. Almost dreamlike, I again saw Rick's cock, the precum forming its head, then entering my wife, pumping in and out of her, coated with Samantha's juices. The image brought my cock to attention. But instead of acting on impulse, I very quietly backed out of our bedroom. What happened a few hours earlier, I reminded myself, was not my imagining. I had no idea how I should respond to the events of the night before. Did my wife simply assume it was fine to have sex with her old boyfriend? Did we have any boundaries, barriers? Why was my cock currently so hard as I reprised our threesome?

I was not innocent of some, for me, extraordinary variations on more traditional one-on-one sex. A still memorable liaison involved a young lady who liked an audience during sex. The first time someone watched us was disconcerting and I lost it, squirting sperm onto the young lady's round, firm breasts. The next time, a day later, I became a performer. Not a great one but having another very attractive girl pleasuring herself as she watched me hammer my cock into my girl was incredible. I wasn't very subtle. Nor was our solo audience member who ended up as a participant, with my cock in her mouth.

Another young lady liked to be shared, an erotic circumstance that took time to get used to. While we were an item, I definitely enjoyed it. When I watched her with another man, his cock plunging into her, filling her vagina with cock and cum, I was both jealous and completely aroused at the same time. Watching her not only stirred me but added to her allure.

But was it the same with Samantha? We had discussed hot tub guidelines but hadn't concluded anything. We both agreed complete nudity was our preference but that was also completely situational. We had started to talk about limits we should put on hot tub sex, but that was on the morning of the day we met Rick. I wondered if last night set the standard.

When we started to get back together again, Samantha said she would not promise fidelity, but would always tell me when she had sex with someone else. She added, "in detail" if I wanted. She also said she did not expect me to be faithful to her, just honest. Of course, we had to be discreet. She was almost business-like. Up until last night we had nothing to be discreet about. At least I thought so.

What was it with the Rick thing?

I made coffee and retreated to my below-decks office. I sat there, looking at a blank screen. Flashbacks of Rick's cock in Samantha's mouth and vagina played like the trailer to a highly erotic movie I wanted to see ... again.

My cock stiffened, then shrunk. Was last night payback for my abandoning her all those years ago? I didn't think so.

***

After an exhausting and unsuccessful attempt to put last night in perspective, and an uncomfortable nap at my desk, I left my office for our great room. The view was stunning. The sun was just beginning to lighten the very tops of the mountains in the distance when I heard my wife in the shower. I pulled myself together enough to retreat to the kitchen and scramble some eggs. I included cheese, diced green peppers and portabella mushrooms, Samantha's favorite. I accompanied my entrée with bacon, grits, and fresh melon, and brought the feast into our bedroom. Breakfast in bed was a Sunday ritual we both enjoyed.

When Samantha walked in from her shower, everything was set up. She had covered her freshly scrubbed body with a bathrobe I had given her when we got together again, a very late birthday present. Twenty years late. It was also very short and showed that Samantha had decided to wear nothing but the robe. When she sat on the bed, the robe opened, exposing one of her delightful breasts.

"This looks so good, honey. I'm starving," Samantha said as she, rather unlady-like, shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. She looked directly at me with her pretty smile and continued, "That was some workout last night." The small crumb of egg that clung to the corner of her mouth made her look like a very innocent and very sexy 20-something. Damnit. It was cute.

"I guess 'workout' could be one way to put it," I replied, attempting to keep the mood light.

Samantha picked up a strip of bacon and crunched it in half. She looked at me again. "I loved you watching me last night. Watching us," Samantha said, her voice getting husky. "The way you held my legs open for him, like offering me. I started to have an orgasm when you did that."

My wife's robe opened more as she talked. I hadn't been able to put a fork in my mouth. I didn't want eggs in my mouth, I wanted her in my mouth, nipples, lips, any part of her body. Every part of her body.

"You need to eat too, fella. Breakfast builds stamina" she said, playfully running her fingers on the fabric covering my expanding cock. She pulled her robe tighter. "We do have an obligation today, in case you've forgotten." My on-again-off-again-on-again erections did cloud my thoughts. So did Samantha's left nipple. It was still exposed.

"Our" obligation was Samantha's weekly staff meeting. Her staff consisted of three reporters, copy editor, on-line editor, photographer, and intern from a nearby university. I tagged along because I loved to watch Samantha work. It was fun. Since I had a nationally syndicated column, her staff thought I knew something about journalism and liked to question me about current events in our small mountain community. And I bought the pizza and beer.

"You'll also need to give me even more attention before you leave tomorrow," Samantha reminded me. She had finished her breakfast and I still had a full plate. She moved off her side of the bed and came over to my side. She intentionally let her robe fall open. My cock was on again. Then it hit me. Leave? Right. I was headed to a conference in Chicago. Damn.

"Have some desert, young man," Samantha teased. She moved my plate, climbed up on the bed and pressed her vagina against my mouth. I only had a moment to lick and kiss her. She shuddered when my tongue slipped inside her.

"Thanks," she laughed and left our bedroom and my stiff cock. She said she wanted to do a bike ride before our grand appearance at her newsroom. It was a perfect bike-riding morning. I ate. Stamina.

***

Our bike rides had become a common Sunday ritual. Samantha was the better biker. I kept in shape all those years between my leaving and returning by going to the gym and riding a stationary bike for a half an hour. Music or talk radio via my ear buds kept me from getting bored. I followed the bike with the various machines, and I was in O.K. shape, according to Samantha.

On the other hand, Samantha was in superb shape. In season she biked mountain roads, did whitewater rafting, kayaking, and snow skiing. Then there were the aerobics and yoga classes every week. She wasn't trying to be a 20-something fitness freak. She was a beautiful and very physical 40-something woman who could pass for someone a decade or two younger.

Then there were those slender legs, an extraordinary bottom, and wonderful full breasts with nipples that always betrayed her. When she was aroused, they simply pushed through whatever was holding them back.

There are some wonderful walking and biking trails in the national forest surrounding our home. A few require a bit of a climb, but they are beautiful and relaxing. Samantha decided we should try a new trail that was going to open in a few weeks. As a member of the media she got a release from the Forest Service that invited her to sample the trail before it was open to the public and do a story. There was a small lake at the end where we could rest, Samantha said, though I was hoping "rest" wasn't what she had in mind. I was definitely up for the new path.

When we reached the turnoff, we went around the yellow "under construction" ribbon. The trail was steep, and we were both breathing hard when we reached the 100-plus acre lake, but the scene in front of us was worth the effort. We watched an eagle soar over the completely still surface of the blue-green water. Giant pines came almost to the shoreline. The area hadn't been open for decades.

We walked our bikes up to the end of the trail and onto the open ground at the lake's edge. To our left, a long, pebbled beach and massive pines defined the shoreline. To our right, about 50 yards away, three people were having a picnic. Or something. They were slightly obscured by clumps of tall grass, but I made out three bikes and movement.

Samantha asked for her binoculars. I was her Sherpa, carrying all the stuff, like camera, blanket, water, and binoculars. I handed them off and Samantha zoomed in on the three.

"Not possible," she said laughing.

"What?" I asked.

She handed me the glasses. I focused on the group, a man and two young ladies. I immediately recognized one of them. I would be having pizza and beer with her in a few hours.

They had one thing in common. They had discarded their clothes. Jo, one of Samantha's reporters, was busy riding the man's cock. The other young lady seemed very busy with Jo. Jo was stunning.

Samantha grabbed the binoculars back. "The other gal is Trish, Jo's roommate. The guy is Ron. We were together for a while." Samantha watched for a bit then handed the glasses back to me, smiling. "I guess Jo read the news release, too.

The voyeur part of me continued to check out the threesome. "I don't think you've ever mentioned Ron," I said, watching Jo impale herself on the Ron's stiff member. It was either a trick of light or his cock was rather long.

I couldn't take my eyes off the erotic spectacle. The Ron person, though slightly obscured by tall grass, looked like he was in intense pain though I knew it was, instead, intense pleasure. Roommate Trish straddled the Ron person near where he and Jo were connected. She seemed to be sucking on Jo's beautiful small breasts, then on the area where Ron and Jo were connected.

Jo and Trish needed an invitation to our hot tub. But Ron? "Ron's a financial consultant. I've used him a few times." Samantha laughed softly at her unintended inuendo as my eyebrows rose slightly. Samantha had the disturbing habit of reading my thoughts.

"He's married to a doctor named Chloe. I did a story on her and we became friends. She's a research scientist at Duke and does quite a bit of volunteer doctoring in Central America. Sort of like Doctors Without Borders only it's through the university," said Madam Editor.

She took the glasses from me again and watched. A little longer this time. "Wow. I think Jo is 'riding the wave'. I just read that recently. It's slang for ..."

I laughed quietly. "I know."

Samantha lowered the binoculars. As she turned to me, I saw her nipples were pushing through her thin bra and t-shirt. She noticed I was having the same reaction further south the bulge in my shorts a dead giveaway. She let her fingers drift to the bulge and lightly brushed it.

"So, this Ron?" I asked again, now somewhat distracted. "Married? And you ..."

Samantha cut me off. "He and his wife have an arrangement," she started to explain, and I started to say something, probably something stupid. Samantha put her finger to my lips. "Chloe loves her work. It's important NIH stuff. She also loves to help incredibly underserved indigenous people in Central America. Ron can work anywhere he can be online. She also loves sex. They decided an open relationship would be the best for them. She introduced me to Ron. And yes, Ron and I have had ..."

"Yeah, that last part is what I was curious about," I kind of joked. Samantha used her other hand to move mine to her breast. Her nipple was rock solid.

"We both knew it was just sex. It was good sex. And yes, for a time, it was quite often. Then Chloe returned for a few months. By the time she left again, Ron was into someone else." She laughed at her second inuendo. "You'll like this. We did Facetime with Chloe."

"You mean while you were ...?" I was lifting Samantha's t-shirt.

"Yup. Worked pretty well. I came really hard just when Chloe did. Right after our little session she texted me and said she was going to make one of her grad students very happy." Samantha's voice was getting husky. I slipped my fingers into her shorts. Her panties were damp.

"So you and Ron ..." I very lightly outlined her labia with my finger.

Samantha pushed against my hand. "Nothing, stupid. You and I agreed we would share something like that with each other. Anyway, I haven't needed any 'Rons' for some time." My wife smiled and removed my hand. She stuck my wet finger into her mouth and I almost lost it. Amazing woman.

"Could we invite Jo and Trish to our hot tub?" I asked, feigning innocence.

Samantha squeezed my cock, not in a friendly way, and laughed as I winced. We quietly walked our bikes back down the new path, not wanting to disturb the trio who were still at it.

***

We were the last to arrive at newspaper's office. Jo looked like the Jo I had often seen behind her desk. Frameless glasses, hair pulled back in a ponytail. No makeup. I did a doubletake. How could I have failed to notice this young beauty hiding in plain sight. The oversized shirts, boat shoes, and shorts. The shorts did it. Marvelous, never-ending legs and firm bottom. The very same one I'd seen a few hours ago, sans shorts, bouncing up and down, and a cock in there somewhere. Samantha caught me staring.

"Lust does not become our unofficial ombudsman," she whispered with her most radiant smile.

I kissed her hand. "Forgive me," I replied.

The meeting got relatively heated when it came to assignments. No one wanted to cover town hall. All three writers wanted the sheriff's department. I chimed in saying the minutiae of government produced the big stories. I mentioned a real estate development deal that had quietly made its way through town, county and state permitting offices before it was exposed as a pyramid scheme by a small news organization. Charges of fraud and bribery happened because of a footnote in the minutes of a town council meeting. And two state senators had resigned to spend more time with their families.

"Discovered by a topnotch reporter!" I concluded, rather eloquently I thought.

"That was Samantha," one of the reporters Ed, groaned. It was old news. It happened years before my return.

"So it was," I smiled and everyone, including Samantha, laughed.

Pizza delivered and devoured, beer bottles emptied, the staff meeting ended. Samantha sat at her editor desk. I lounged on a huge padded chair where Samantha and I made love at times. I was sipping my final beer when Jo appeared at Samantha's door.

"You wanted to see me?" the very well-hidden, sexy woman asked her editor.

"Have a seat, Jo," the editor responded.

Jo sat down next to me. I continued to be stunned at what I had not seen. Dave, one of the reporters at the office, told me Jo had gone all "hippie" last year. "No bra, probably no panties. Kind of crazy clothes. No bad pills, but she does smoke and shares her abundant stash with all of us. And her roommate. I sure wouldn't mind ..." Dave said with a rather off-putting grin.

Samantha smiled at Jo. "That series you did on local artists. Remember I told you it was great," she said.

"Thanks, but I was just telling their stories," Jo replied, with some curiosity.

"Well, I got a request from a publisher in Virginia. They're doing a hardcover book on artists in the Southeast and want to use your stuff. It has to be edited down, something maybe you and I could do together," Samantha said. "It's a pretty big deal. They're paying top dollar."

"Jeez." Jo was sort of bouncing on the big chair like a kid who just got told they were going to Orlando. It was a toned-down version of her bouncing earlier this morning.

"Alan will be out of town for two days. Ideal editing conditions," Samantha said, smiling at me. I reluctantly smiled back, silently admitting I could be a distraction.

"Let's do a hard copy edit! Real paper," Jo said

"Sure. Haven't done one of those in ages," Samantha laughed. Watching my wife, the editor, smile, knowing she made Jo's day, humbled me. Being in her presence and feeling her ferocious confidence was exciting. "Text me. We'll set up a time."

"Sure. Wow. Thanks, Samantha. Wow," Jo was almost speechless.

"Go celebrate," Samantha said, shooing Jo out of the office.

***

Because it was slightly chilly on our front deck we sat in the great room, watching the early evening sky. We were both clothed, Samantha was in an old t-shirt and almost nothing panties, I wearing my standard kaki shorts and favorite Route 66 t-shirt. I was sipping my scotch while Samantha enjoyed her Sunday vodka tonic. She was known to indulge in two drinks on Sundays. The beer at the office didn't count. Her rule.

We were silent for a time, watching the star-like twinkle of far-off headlights crossing a mountain pass many miles away.

As nonchalantly as I could, I asked, "Hear from Rick?" Why did my cock respond faster than Samantha's reply?

"Yes. He sent me a text. Wanted to know if we could get together before he went back to Atlanta," Samantha said. She noticed my responsive cock under my shorts. "It seems you'd like me to see him again." Even in the semi darkness I could tell she was grinning.

"Well, last night was a kind of milestone for us, sexually I mean," I replied, attempting to maintain my cool. I turned to my wife. Her nipples were giving her away again. "Looks like the feeling is mutual, all around," I said as I lightly pinched her nipples.