Sunday in the Valley

"Oh, yeah?" Len said, his voice much quieter even than Pat's toned-down level. "What kinds of things?"

"Well, I've never had two at once!" Pat said. "I'd really like to try that!"

"Uh, there's more than one way to skin that cat!" Bill said. "What exactly were you thinking?"

"Oh, bottom, front and back!" Pat said. "But Lenny, you'd definitely have to be the one in the back ... Bill's way too big for me there!"

"Wow, that's the way a guy likes to be thought of ... the one small enough to be comfortable in the rear!" Said Len.

"Oh, sorry!" said Pat. "You know I didn't mean it like that! You know I think you're just fine in that department."

I was just slinking down into my chair, scanning the room to see if anyone was following our conversation. "Look, you guys, do you suppose we could just hold off on this conversation until we're in the car?"

We finished our breakfast, paid the bill, and scurried out to the car, trying not to look around to see if we were being frowned at by the other patrons.

There wasn't really a lot more discussion required.

Immediately when we got back to Pat and Bill's house, Pat started shedding her clothes and made a bee-line for the bedroom. Both men seemed equally eager, and followed her happily.

I said, "Okay, I'll be in in a few minutes, but I think I'm mostly the witness for this one," I said, "If I understand it correctly!"

Pat, naked, stuck her head and shoulders out to see me in the kitchen, and said, "Yeah, I think you understand it just fine!" She was ginning like the Cheshire Cat.

"I'll make everyone something to drink," I said, feeling foolish. "I'll bring the drinks when I come in to watch." I didn't hear any objections to my watching the proceedings, and I have to admit to being curious about how exactly this was done. I'd read about it, and heard about it, but we'd never been real fans of porno movies, so I was having a little trouble imagining where everyone's legs and arms and what-not went.

I knew what people liked to drink, so I didn't have to take orders. I could hear some hilarity in the bedroom, so I scrambled to find the necessary ingredients, and threw together two highballs, a beer, and some Irish coffee, and took the tray of them in to the master bedroom.

Everything became clear to me almost immediately.

Bill was lying like I had been lying last night, with his hips right at the edge of their bed, which was also one of those high ones. Pat was kneeling over him, her knees perched right on the edge, on either side of his hips, and she was reaching around down there to align Bill so she could sit down on him.

Both Len and I craned our necks down, wanting to see the process of Bill impaling my little big sister on that monster of a cock that he had. It frankly looked impossible. It was as if the diameter of his penis was roughly equal to the diameter of Pat's whole torso down there. But they had apparently done this a time or two, and before too long, after a little wiggling and negotiation, Pat was sitting fully down on Bill's hips, not a bit of his length showing. I don't think he had been able to push that far into me last night. I'm not sure he COULD HAVE pushed that far into me last night. But Pat had the advantage of years of practice.

The two of them just lay there, waiting for Len to make the next move.

Len pushed Pat down onto Bill's ample stomach. Bill's legs were spread very wide, pressed on each side against the side of the bed. When Pat leaned down, her ass-crack opened up, and I could see her tiny asshole, looking more like her navel than a place Len could insert his cock into her.

Len took a tube of Vaseline off the bedside table, and squirted some onto his fingers, rubbed a little on his cock, then squeezed out some more, which he slathered around the whole area near Pat's asshole. It all seemed pretty pre-meditated and clinical to me, but then, as far as I knew, sex always looked that way to someone sitting alongside the bed, watching. It wasn't the sort of thing I'd had much experience with before.

Len started to concentrate on trying to slip his fingers, or at least, a finger, into Pat's rear. He wasn't having any success at all. "Try to relax, Pat," Len said.

"Easy for you to say!" said Pat.

I could tell Pat was both eager to do this and very nervous about it. I realized that, if Bill was "way too big for her back there," that they must have tried this with one another and failed. Pat had never done anal before! Probably for the best, considering.

As far as I knew, Len had never done it, either. He certainly never did it, or even tried it, with me, or even expressed an interest in it. I remembered one time that anal intercourse in the life of some celebrity was in the news, and Len said, "Why would you do that, when there's a nice, hot, gooey place to put it in, right next door?" Which was more or less my view of things as well. I mean, I know sex is supposed to be dirty, but anal just seems ... well ... dirty.

"Push out a little, Pat," Len suggested, still trying to wiggle a finger into her tight little butt. "Like you're trying to take a crap!" Oh, so romantic!

But Pat's nothing if not a trooper, and she did what Len suggested, and suddenly Len was able to slip his index finger into her. She jerked reflexively; I could tell it wasn't very pleasurable for her. Len always told me, though, that the feeling of his doctor poking around in his ass when he had his prostate examined was "not painful, just odd feeling, and embarrassing, of course."

While the three of them were working out the logistics of their project, I reflected on their looks. Bill looked the oldest of the four of us, in my opinion, which he actually was by a few months. I think smoking always ages people's faces, and that was certainly true of Bill's -- his face was deeply lined, although the underlying structure of his face was still handsome. For a stranger, the first impression of Bill was probably his weight -- he had a beer belly and man boobs. Bill's naked body was not anything that might inspire lust in a woman, that is until they saw ... well, until they saw him in more detail.

Len looked great, in my opinion. He had an old ugly scar across his stomach which made a deep trough under his ribs. But he was generally lean, and his face, although rugged and lined from years of working outside still seemed handsome to me. But I knew I couldn't be objective.

Pat was trim, but what shape she had was just as saggy as mine -- there just wasn't as much of it. Her little boobs hung down just as badly as mine -- we were both way past passing the pencil test! She had a little pooch of a tummy, but her torso was basically very lean. I'm not sure Pat was ever really pretty, although she had been "cute" when we were young. Now, I think most men our age would find her attractive, although up close, her face was frankly starting to look old to me ... lots of little lines around her lips, extensive crow's feet, wrinkly neck, all that stuff. She dyed her hair, of course, it was too uniform in color to be natural, and I had noticed grey roots now and then in the past.

I had given up dying when I retired. I just didn't have the energy for the constant touch-up when I knew nobody was fooled. Over the course of the last two years, my hair had progressed form salt-and-pepper grey and black to just about all-silver. Len said it looked nice, but I know it makes me look old right off the bat. And I'm too fat. I have always liked to eat, and since my poor knees and hips have started hurting so much all the time, I've become so sedentary that I've been gaining several pounds a year. Partly because of my weight, I guess, I think I have the youngest-looking face of the four of us ... no lines to amount to much. Len says I look like a cherub.

If you didn't know us and met the four of us together, you'd assume Bill and I were a couple and that Len and Pat were a couple. At the moment, however, I was by myself over here wondering what the fun was in what the other three were doing.

Or trying to do.

Len figured he had gotten things loosened up quite a bit back there, and was trying to push his cock into Pat's rear opening now. I was frankly amazed that both the men had been able to get erections again after having impressive orgasms earlier (two for Bill in the last 24 hours!). And without Viagra, either!

But I could also clearly see that Len had lost some enthusiasm; as he was trying to push himself into my sister, I could see his penis bending, and deflecting to one side or the other. That had to hurt! I thought that he would be more likely to get himself in there if he were stiffer.

What the hell.

I got out of the big leather chair and went over to Len and, holding onto his thighs to lower myself to the floor with my weak old knees, I opened my mouth, offering to do what I could for the team by trying to see if I could stiffen him up. What had I heard that that is called? A fluffer?

Len got the idea, and swiveled his hips a little toward me. I could see, actually, that just my getting involved and making the offer had already had some restorative effect on him. When he pushed himself into my mouth, I realized that I also would be getting a taste of Vaseline, and if I wasn't imagining it, a little bowel. Oh, well, all for the cause.

I gave my husband the best-quality version of licking and sucking that I could manage, and after a minute or so, I could feel that it had had an great effect. Len was as hard as I remember him ever being.

I pulled away and gestured toward Pat and Bill on the bed, and Len went back to addressing getting into Pat's ass. I got back to my front-row seat on the leather chair.

Bill's voice came from below Pat at this point, saying, "I think I'm losing it, guys!"

Pat said, "Damn it, Bill, don't you do it! Think about last night with Jean, or something." I heard Bill groan, and Pat turned her head to smile over her shoulder at me and wiggle her eyebrows.

Len was pushing hard, apparently, and he suddenly let out a big "Ouch" of his own ... I can only imagine that using your sensitive cock head as a battering ram might not actually feel so good.

I think they all would have given up about then, when all of a sudden, Len seemed to lurch forward and like that, he was in! Pat let out a big yelp, then she said, "Yes!"

Now what?

Pat tried to start things up by moving her hips, but the physics of the thing meant she just didn't have the necessary mass to move the men much. Len grabbed Pat's hips tightly and started thrusting into her just as if he were fucking her vaginally. Below the two of them, Bill started trying to lift his hips, and finally Pat got the rhythm and sort of seemed to coordinate everything by moving her own hips again.

Soon enough, the three of them were thrashing around on the edge of the bed like they had been doing this for years. I heard Bill's voice emerge again from the bottom of the pile, saying, "Oh, yeah! I can feel your cock in her, Len!"

"Jesus, Bill, I can feel you, too!"

Pat just said, "Oh, God, oh God, oh God!"

Pat clearly had started climaxing. As the men kept pounding away, she seemed to have maybe two or three really big orgasms. Her whole body was flopping up and down on Bill's, and Len increased the stakes by leaning forward to grab at her tits, all without missing a stroke.

I was so proud of my Len!

Pat never stopped gasping out her passion, and soon, Bill's voice shot out loudly from down below, somewhere, "Oh, Christ!" as he started his orgasm.

Len couldn't resist all of that, and started accelerating his thrusts into Pat's ass, going not only faster, but a lot more violently. I had never seen Len's face look so ferocious! After a few of these more violent thrusts, Len arched his back, looked up at the ceiling and just howled like a wounded animal.

I have to admit, I hadn't thought this whole ridiculous activity would end well, but even I was pretty excited by what was going on. I suddenly wished I had gotten out of my own clothes so I could play along from the sidelines. But, too late now, I just enjoyed the sexual buzz I got from being a voyeur.

One by one, first Bill, I think, then Pat, and finally Len, the three lovers stopped moving, and relaxed. I was aware that this was exactly the kind of thing you imagined when you read suggestive implications in articles in the paper when someone was found "in a compromising situation" after they had their cardiac arrest.

But it looked like everyone was going to survive this. This time, at least.

We only had an hour and a half before we had to set out for home, and it was clear to me that neither of the boys was going to be able to do much for me today, so I was basically resigned (and actually satisfied and kind of relieved) to being done for the day. The others had taken showers and gotten somewhat dressed, and we were finally actually beginning to talk about what we were up to.

But Pat was still the group cheerleader, and had what I considered an astounding suggestion. "Well, Jean, the boys might be down for the count, but you and I could still do some stuff!"

I looked at her to see if she was kidding. She was smiling at me, beaming, actually, but I could see that she was absolutely NOT kidding. I suddenly had nothing to say, and just sat there, wondering what the hell had gotten into my sister, and whether I would even consider her offer.

To be honest, we had "done some stuff" when we were kids. I think just about all siblings do, regardless what they say. But that had been half a century ago. A lot of water had spilled over the bridge (or is it under the dam?) since then, and I wasn't at all sure that I was interested in anything like that.

I quickly learned that I was the only one who didn't think that this was the absolutely most terrific idea, ever.

"Oh, yeah!" Bill cried out. "That would be so HOT!"

"Doesn't every guy want to watch two women together?" Len said, grinning like a fool.

"Okay!," Pat said, "So it's all decided!" I guess she hadn't noticed that I hadn't really jumped at the offer. Pat grabbed my hand and yanked me off of my stool by the breakfast bar and literally dragged me back to the bedroom.

The guys situated themselves as the audience, Len sitting in the big chair, and Bill bringing in a dining room chair for himself. I felt like tearing tickets.

Pat started getting undressed (what little she had put on), so I did, too, trying not to be the wet blanket. I wasn't AGAINST it, exactly, I just hadn't quite grasped what we were about to do.

When we all got nude (I was last ... the men were out of their undies in seconds after we got back to the bedroom), Pat climbed up onto the big, nice bed and grabbed my hand to pull me in after her.

One of the nice things about the position they had used earlier was that there was no "wet spot" to spoil the mood. Except maybe on the carpet ... I hadn't checked.

Pat took charge as usual, and swung herself around so that we were head-to-toe. She got on top of me, and straddled my head with her legs. I found myself staring up at Pat's pussy, which was still moist from her shower. See, I told myself, now this was CLEAN sex!

Before I could do anything, I felt just the most delightful feeling in my crotch. I felt something, I assumed it was her tongue, sliding all over my outer lips, lingering at the top and digging in a little there.

I didn't want to be a taker and not a giver, so I stuck out my own tongue, and quickly discovered why Len seemed to like giving me head so much. I just absolutely LOVED the idea and the taste and the feeling and the responsiveness from Pat that I was able to elicit with my tongue. That I was getting the best licking I had ever had in my life didn't do anything to quell my enthusiasm.

Pretty soon, and I have no idea about time during this experience, we were writhing our torsos on one another as well as licking and slurping and feeling around here and there. My sister seemed to know just exactly what I might want next, how much, how strongly, how fast, how everything. And, from the reactions I was getting, I was also reading her mind.

I vaguely remember hearing the guys cheering us on, but my mind was in fact somewhere better, far, far away. If there had been a fire in the bedroom right then, I would surely have died a gruesome death.

Neither of us seemed to be racing to a conclusion, like a guy always seemed to want to do (at least Len, anyway!) It was a long, slow, sensuous, warm, wet, hot, tasty, hairy, smooth, oily, aromatic, energetic, lethargic horizontal dance. After what may have been a few minutes or several hours, I felt Pat stiffen on top of my body, and her pussy gushed even more fluid onto my face and tongue, if that was possible. For my part, I didn't stiffen. I dissolved. My mind and body just melted into total, climactic bliss. A wet, hot, corrosive orgasm just filled my entire being.

I was ashamed to realize that this was without a doubt the very best sex I had ever experienced. I lolled my head over to see my husband, my dear, dear Len. He was grinning at me, I guess delighted to see me having so much pleasure. I felt, unlike last night, which was fun and all, I felt that I had actually cheated on Len, even though he was sitting right there, cheering me on. The feelings I had during sex with my sister had transported me to a place in my awareness that I had heard other people rave on about, and I admit that I had thought that they were just trying to impress someone.

I was so wrong.

Pat had rolled off of me, and bent over to bring her face next to mine. She kissed me, a deep, soulful, tongue-exploring kiss that curled my toes and sent a jolt through me that was very much like what I had previously thought of as an orgasm.

I was in love.

We finally set out for home at about eight-thirty, caravanning our way across the Valley, up and over La Veta Pass, and down the other side. We had arranged to stop at the last gas station in Walsenburg before getting on the interstate north, to make a pit stop, get something to drink, and check in with each other.

I had spent the entire trip to that point thinking, worrying, about this thing that had happened to me ... to us. When Len came to my car to start the gas pump, I couldn't look him in the eyes, I felt so guilty.

After the gas was in my car and his truck, we went into the little convenience store, paid our bill, used the facilities, bought a couple of sodas and a candy bar to split, and went outside. We sat side by side on the cheesy little plastic bench there, while we ate our snack and drank our cold dose of caffeine.

"Len," I started, "I ..."

"Don't Jean. Believe me, I know. Just let it soak in for a while." Len said. "You know I love you, and that will never change."

I looked at my husband with tears in my eyes. "Leonard, I love you so!" I grabbed him tightly around his shoulders, weeping into the jeans jacket on his chest.

"I love you, too Jean, I always love you," Len said quietly as the big rigs blasted by all stinky and real. "I just think we both have to just make room now to love someone else."

We would get together with Pat and Bill now and then for a couple of years after that, and when Len finally was able to retire, we spent a lot of time with them. Wonderful times.

Bill had a fatal heart attack a little over two years after that weekend. We buried his body in the little cemetery between their house and the Rio Grande.

Pat moved in with us. We've been loving together for the six years since.