Starting Over Ch. 04

"Well I know you are a widower, like her."

"Yes."

"She told me you have a very sexy voice, and I have to say, now that I've met you, I agree."

I smiled and took another sip of my drink.

"I know you like to write dirty stories."

"Oh."

"And you like to read them to women as they take their clothes off."

I gave her my best sexy smile and said, "Who wouldn't if they were as attractive as the two of you."

"I also know that you like to watch. Watch women as they are,... oh how can I say this,... as they are enjoying themselves."

"She means masturbating," Britt said.

"Well yes, that for sure, but I bet he likes to watch women take their clothes off too. He does, doesn't he Britt?"

"Most definitely," Britt responded. "Especially here on the G&T Deck." I looked over at Britt and saw that she had unbuttoned the top three buttons on her blouse. I watched her as she released a fourth and exposed the cups of her bra and her breasts bulging above them. I indulged my obsession with her beautiful tits by staring for a moment or two.

When I looked back at Ingrid I saw that she had completely released the buttons on her blouse and pulled the tails from her skirt to that I could see the ample bra cups holding her breasts aloft, and the delicious bulge of her creamy breasts above them. My cock was rapidly growing. Britt had told me that Ingrid had an open marriage and I was hoping this might be an opportunity to see just how open her marriage was. I deliberately adjusted my trousers to make room for my growing cock, doing so with no subtlety whatsoever. I knew both women were watching me. If they wanted to show me their tits, I would be happy to show them my cock, or at least the lump it was making in my trousers.

"She also tells me that you have ambitions to become a pervert, although just what kind remains undecided."

"Well, I..."

Britt interrupted, "You're forgetting Ingrid. He's already been a peeping tom as he watched my naked sister through a hole in the fence while she was masturbating."

"Oh yes I know. But Britt," she asked, "I'm not clear on who was masturbating. Was it Freya or was it Dave?"

"Both," Britt responded. I looked over at her and saw that she had removed her bra and was massaging her tits and rubbing the nipples with her thumb. "So you see," Britt continued, "I think it's already quite clear. He is a pervert."

"What about his stories?" Ingrid asked.

"Filth," Britt responded. "Complete filth. He claims to be an English major, but I can't believe they taught him to write filth like that at Fresno State."

"I'm not sure Britt," Ingrid said. "Is writing filth a perversion? I don't remember seeing that in the DSM 5."

"DSM 5?" I asked.

"It's a book shrinks use to diagnose wackos. It lists the symptoms to diagnose each kind of wacko. Oh oops I can't say that. I mean the mentally impaired or whatever it is were supposed to say outside the clinic." Ingrid giggled. These girls are really stoned, I thought. I could feel the candy I had eaten creeping up on me.

"It's okay Ingrid," Britt said. "We're like in the clinic here. We can use any language we want. Only the wacko can hear you."

"I'm the wacko?" I asked.

"Well," Ingrid said. "We've already established you're a peeping tom. A peeping tom that masturbates while he peeps. And we know that you write filth and read it to women while they take their clothes off and masturbate. Most people would think you are a wacko. Of course most people would fantasize about doing something similar themselves. It's just that they wouldn't do it. You did. There is a fine line between having a dirty mind and being a wacko. It's called self-control. Frankly though, I think self-control is overrated. That is why I find wackos like you so interesting."

"Yeah," Britt echoed. "Even if writing filth and reading to horny women isn't in the DSM 5 you are still a wacko."

"Well it should be," Ingrid said, "Especially when he reads it aloud to a pair of women as randy as we are." She giggled again and removed her bra so she was naked from the waist up. I couldn't help licking my lips as I stared at her tits. Much like Britt's, they were big and soft and hung down covering much of her chest. They were a creamy white with large rose-colored areola. Her nipples were a pale brown. "Oh you are right Britt. Dave is a dirty boy, a very dirty boy. Look how he stares at my tits. Do you like these Dave?" She put a hand under each breast and held them up and out towards me. Her nipples were fully aroused. I wanted to suck on them. Her Swedish accent seemed to be getting stronger. I loved it.

"Yes," I whispered, obsessed with Ingrid's tits.

"Still Britt, I'm not sure he's a pervert." As she spoke she let her tits drop. They bounced in the most delightful way. I licked my lips again.

Ingrid smiled at my response to her tits. "You know Britt he may just be another horny man. Not really a pervert. There are a lot them around you know. I see them in my practice every day." Like Britt she was massaging her breasts and rubbing her nipples. "I think Britt, I will need to hear him read some of his filth. You know just to be sure he is really a pervert, and not just a dirty old man. I think maybe I need another drink too. This one has gone dry. Can you do that Dave? Can you get me another drink and then read me one of your dirty stories. Read me one of the really filthy ones. Those are the kind I like."

When I stood to go and get another round of drinks and my tablet my cock was making a big tent in my Dockers which I made no effort to hide. Both women were staring at it. Ingrid licked her lips, but nothing was said until I left. I could hear them giggling as I walked away. They were so stoned—and so horny. I was having fun.

When I returned with a tray of drinks the women were sitting pretty much as I had left them—naked from the waist up, their conservative white blouses and their bras hung over the deck's railing. One thing I did notice was that there were also two pairs of panties hanging on the rail alongside the bras. Hmm, I thought, I think they want to escalate their seduction.

When I leaned forward to set Britt's drink on the table alongside her, she reached out and softly stroked the lump in my trousers. I paused long enough to let her stroke it a second time while she looked up at me with a lewd smile. When I turned and delivered the second drink to Ingrid she did he same thing with a similar lewd smile. Nothing was said. I returned to my chair and took a long drink from my own refurbished gin and tonic. Then I reached down with one hand and slowly stroked my erection through my trousers.

"Oh you are right Britt," Ingrid said. "Dave is a very dirty boy. Where did you find him?" As she spoke she kicked off her shoes and pulled one foot up, resting the heel on her chair. Her dress slid down giving me a view of her cleanly shaved pussy. I stared pointedly at it over the top of my drink glass.

"He just moved in next door one day," Britt responded. "Replacing a fusty old professor that was here before."

"Like manna from heaven," Ingrid said. As she spoke she let her leg open to the side exposing more of her pussy. I could see it was gleaming. I gave my cock another stroke and stared in unabashed silence at Ingrid's exposed sex.

Britt, for her part, sat quietly watching as Ingrid and I seduced each other.

Ingrid had pushed her dress even farther up her thighs. She was using one hand to softly stroke the inside of her thighs approaching ever closer to her pussy. "Dave," she said. "Are you going to read us a dirty story?"

"Certainly," I responded. "But I need to know what kind of dirty story a horny girl like you wants to hear. Just what kind of filth do you like."

"I want to hear something about people who are fucking when they shouldn't be and maybe where they shouldn't be, or even better, with people they shouldn't be fucking."

I laughed. "It's amazing how any rules there are about fucking."

Ingrid smiled and said, "I know. It's my and Britt's job to get people to lighten up on some of those rules. For most of us, life is more fun with more fucking."

"Your lewd tastes are just like Britt's," I said.

"Dave, how can you say that!" Britt said, speaking up for the first time since my little dance with Ingrid had begun. "You know I'm a sweet innocent girl from Minnesota that doesn't like your filth." When I looked over at the 'sweet innocent girl' I saw that she had hiked her skirt up to her waist, spread her legs, and was lasciviously stroking her pussy.

I just shook my head while Ingrid responded, "Bullshit."

Britt laughed and then suggested a story for me to read. "But first Dave you have to your cock out. We all have to be naked while you read. If we are going to be masturbating while you read your filth to us, you should be masturbating too."

"Absolutely," I responded.

While I opened an appropriately dirty story on my tablet the girls shed their remaining garments. Before I began to read I stripped all my clothes off. When I pulled off my underwear my fully erect cock bobbed obscenely.

"Oh Britt, you are so right. He has a beautiful cock."

The girls had rearranged the chairs just a bit while I was gone so that Ingrid and I were facing each other and Britt was positioned to the side so that she could watch each of us. It was clear that this session was to be about Ingrid and me and that Britt was going to get her kicks from watching us.

I spent the next twenty minutes reading a story I had posted about a schoolteacher and her husband who watch each other masturbate while he tells her a lewd and totally fictional tale about how she was surprised after work by the school principal when she was watching porn on a school computer in the teacher's work room. When the principal threatens to fire her, she suggests he fuck her instead which he does, narrowly avoiding his wife's unexpected early arrival. When the husband finishes the story the wife has him ejaculate his cum over her tits while she uses her fingers to finish herself off."

Whenever I looked up from my text I looked directly at Ingrid who was slowly stroking her pussy lips and playing with her tits. She was staring directly at me. When I glanced at Britt I could see she too was masturbating with her attention focused on the interplay between me and Ingrid. For my part, I was softly and slowly stroking my cock—just enough to keep it erect, but not taking any chance of losing control. I had a feeling my I was going to need a hard cock this evening for purposes beyond reading a lewd story to a pair of masturbating blondes. When I reached the end of the story I could tell that Ingrid was hanging on the edge of a climax.

"Dave. That story was so hot. But you know I think the ending would have been even better if the schoolteacher had been fucked by her husband. Someone should have fucked her. I'm sure she wanted it."

Britt chortled. "What Ingrid means Dave is that she wants someone to fuck her. That's what you mean, isn't it Ingrid. You want someone to fuck you. You want Dave to fuck you. don't you Ingrid?"

"Yes," she hissed.

I looked at Britt and she nodded, silently mouthing, "Go ahead. Fuck her."

I looked back at Ingrid and said, I think I know just what you mean Ingrid. The story should have ended with someone getting fucked. But I think we can fix that. Get up and lean on the rail."

Ingrid walked over to the rail and leaned on it with her elbows, sticking her broad tasty looking butt out at me, her long hair hanging over the rail, and her big tits drooping below her chest. She wiggled her ass obscenely.

"Ingrid," I said as I walked toward her, my erect cock wagging lewdly, "Spread your legs a bit." She did as requested and I grabbed her ass with both hands.

"Oh and there is one other thing I forgot to tell you Ingrid," Britt said. She had moved her chair so she was positioned to watch us from the side. "Dave is very good at talking dirty. He can be very crude, but it makes me so hot when he does it. You like dirty talk don't you Ingrid? Do you want him to talk dirty?"

"Fuck yes," she whispered.

"What was that Ingrid?" Britt asked. "Do you want him to talk dirty while he fucks you? Speak up if that's what you want that. You don't really want a silent fuck, do you Ingrid? I know you better than that."

"No, I don't want that. Talk dirty Dave. Tell me what a slut I am. I get off when my husband does that."

I pulled her ass towards me so my cock slid up the front of her sex, parting her swollen outer lips and stroking the sensitive flesh below. She chirped when the head of my prick brushed against her clit. I pulled back and positioned my cock at the entrance to her cunt. Then I slapped her hard, once on each buttock.

"Tell me you slut. Tell me. Do you want this big hard cock in that hungry cunt of yours? Is that what you want Ingrid?"

"God yes. Fuck me Dave. Fuck me hard." As she spoke I slowly worked my cock into her warm wet cunt, twisting it as I pushed it in so I hit all the walls. She felt marvelous.

"Oh god yes," she said. "Put it all the way in. I need to be fucked."

I continued to worm my way into her. "Yes that is exactly what you need isn't it you cock sucking whore. You need to be fucked. Don't you?"

"Yes, oh god yes. I need to be fucked. My worthless husband Scott's been away for a week out on some god forsaken, fucking, drilling platform in the North Sea. Probably fucking that slutty accountant from Stavanger that hangs around when he's there."

I was fully in her now. I couldn't believe how warm and wet she felt. And how nasty this was—standing on our G and T deck where Ellen used to grade papers while I read a murder mystery. This was different. I was fucking this gorgeous middle aged Swedish psychiatrist while my equally attractive Norwegian neighbor, sprawled out naked in the very chair Ellen used to grade papers in, was watching me fucking her friend while she stroked her own pussy and encouraged me."

"Go on Dave," Britt said. "Fuck her. She wants it."

"Oh god yes," Ingrid responded. "Your big cock feels so fucking good." She wiggled her butt so I could feel my prick twisting around inside her rubbing all the parts of her warm, wet cunt."

I grabbed her hips firmly with both hands and begin to stroke my cock in and out. Long slow strokes at first but slowly becoming faster and harder until you could hear my groin slapping against her ass on every stroke. Ingrid had quit talking. She was just whining and crying as I pounded her.

"That's it Dave," Britt said. "Pound her. Fuck her. It's what she wanted. She told me before we got here. Scott's been away for a week and she really needed a fuck." I looked over at Britt and saw that she was really getting off on watching us. She had her legs spread lewdly and three fingers of one hand were roughly finger fucking her cunt while two fingers of the other hand were rubbing her clit as fast as she could move them.

I took one hand off Ingrid's ass and reached around her so I could rub her clit. She gasped. "Oh fuck yes. That's it. Keep fucking me but do that too. Yes that. What you're doing with your fingers. That. So fucking good. Don't stop. Don't stop. Whatever you do... don't... fucking... stop. Arrrrrrrrrrgh," she screamed as her climax hit her followed by something in Swedish I didn't understand but I learned later was obscene. It felt like she was trying to crush my cock with her pelvic muscles. Waves of her climax followed, each announced by a grunt from Ingrid and more squeezing pressure on my cock. When she was done her knees buckled and I let her down slowly to the deck. My cock slid easily out of her and I stood above her with my gleaming prick bobbing in the sunlight.

"What about you Britt. Do you want some of this?" I held my cock out to her. I was really aroused now. I wanted to keep fucking someone.

"Wait Dave," I heard Ingrid say from the deck at my feet. "Let's go inside to the bed. My slutty friend needs your cock, but I want to help." When we were inside Ingrid told Britt, "Get down on your knees and put your ass in the air like a dog in heat so Dave can fuck you from behind like he did me. But I'm going to help." Moments later I was on my knees behind Britt sliding my still rock-hard cock into her now familiar cunt. My god she was wet. It felt great. Her cunt always felt great. It was different from Ingrid, but they were both great. As I began pumping my cock in and out of Brit, Ingrid slid in beneath her so each woman had her face in the other's sex. As I expected neither lasted long. Britt came first with a loud scream followed shortly by Ingrid. After Britt climaxed I pulled out and covered her ample ass and back with several loads of my cum. We all collapsed in a wet, sticky, satiated pile on the bed. As I drifted off to sleep I couldn't help but think about how different my life was becoming.

Much later that evening after we had dined with Ingrid and she had taken an Uber home, Britt and I lay naked in bed warmed by the heavy blanket as the cold air from the nighttime fog rolled in the open doors to the G&T deck. "So Dave," she asked, "What do you think of my friend Ingrid?"

"She certainly enjoys sex," I responded. "A lot like you and Freya. Tell me are all Scandinavian girls as horny as you three?"

Britt laughed. "I doubt it," she responded. "Scandinavian culture, including its Minnesota offshoots, is more liberal towards nudity and sex and whatnot. But it's like anyplace. Everyone has their own unique personal sex drive. My father didn't have a clue about sex. It's a miracle Freya and I were ever conceived. But my mother. She was an outright slut and what she couldn't get from her husband she got elsewhere, but always with discretion. She had some cousins on another farm across the state that lived as one big incestuous group. I never knew why she went to see those cousins so often until I went to visit there when I was home from college one summer. We know for example that even in cultures like the Middle East where overt expression of sex is highly repressed, there is still plenty of sex. It's just more hidden than it is in Scandinavia."

"And Berkeley," I added.

She laughed. "Yeah we are kind of horny fuckers here aren't we."

'I'm beginning to learn that. I'm not sure how I missed it for the first twenty years or so I lived here."

"Dave, I don't want to be critical of Ellen. I'm sure she was a fine person. But you had a sexually repressed spouse. And now that you don't with a little encouragement your natural sex drive is taking charge. No need to masturbate while watching porn when you have women like Ingrid, Freya, and me around."

"Let's leave our late spouses out of this," I said. "I'm not going to use Ellen for an excuse nor am I going to regret my life with her. But's it over and I'm starting over. And I think I like it."

"Me too she said as she snuggled in next to me. And you know what was good tonight? No one asked who was the better fuck."

"Never," I said. "Never better. Just different. Although I do have a hard time telling you and Freya apart."

She laughed. "Get used to it. We're twins."

"And speaking of different, who else do you know?" I continued.

"Oh lots of horny people. You'll see. Stick with me Dave Chandler. I think we need to go to Napa next week."

"More Swedes?"

"No they're Italians. Very horny Italians."