Third Wheel at Independent Living

Third Wheel at Independent Living

Divorced man tries to "fit in" with elder couple

I always appreciate your constructive opinions and suggestions. Just so you know, every character portrayed here significantly exceeds the minimum age of 18.

Turned down. AGAIN!

You would think that a decent-looking guy like me (with a good job, no less) shouldn't have had so much trouble finding a simple night out with a single woman in a neutral public setting. How bad could a date with me possibly be that my worms should keep falling off the fishhook? I bet if I were on Grindr, I'd be as popular as any "daddy bear" member there. Maybe I should do that just to boost my badly bruised ego.

I tried Match. I tried eHarmony. Lunch Dates, 10-minute speed dating, Craigslist, and even, dare I say, a printed personal ad in the local newspaper. Zip, Nada, Zilch prospects! I've only had a couple of bites in the 11 months since being summarily replaced as a husband.

I was going to take a hiatus from this misery and bury myself in my at-home office. (I still don't see why this "work at home" thing is so envied.) Sometimes I Zoom bottomless for kicks, but the novelty has already worn off. It's just as well because when I see Pam and Rose from the company and their mega-tits, I daydream in these "meetings" about them pleasuring themselves while looking at me, and I can't help but "rise to the occasion." I tend to zone out during meetings if there are more than four attendees, and one day I might forget my lewdness and stand up. 'Twould be bad for business!...

So, once again, I had resorted to resuming browsing my usual dating sites when I threw my hands in the air, and instead turned to Pornhub. The site may be free, but boy, there are a lot of bogus ads. Except, I saw a small personal hiding inconspicuously in the top corner. I liked the subtle, not SHOUTING, style of that ad. It said "Mature Friend Finder," and how can anyone feel threatened by that? At the very least, maybe I would find a friend (and maybe he has a buxom harem that wears him out and needs another guy to help service them!) What a pervy thought. Perhaps that's why no self-respecting woman wants anything to do with me. It would've been just my luck for a woman I miraculously arranged a date with, who was clever enough to see my true nature, sound a "proximity alert" if I got near and bolt.

I clicked on the post, and a tasteful splash page inviting me for a free two-day trial appeared. I qualify as an early 40-something to participate. It didn't ask for a credit card when I created my account, so I was game. Then came the profile page, with its no doubt a million personal questions. But instead, there's only a big box to write my autobiography, which was way better. I typed in a short bio, and described myself (truthfully, even) as a "young-hearted" mature single man with a toned upper body, muscular thighs, and blondish-gray hair. I left out the part about having a bubble butt to not have seemed too anxious to offer it up. Furthermore, I'm all for some titillating ass play, but I didn't want to convey the idea that I'm only interested in being a pin cushion for an all-male throuple.

Towards the bottom of the profile was a list of sexual interests and boundaries. I skip nearly all of them, not wanting to appear as a desperate horn-dog. I felt adventurous to select the group "activities" and made sure to check FM, FMF, FFM, even M4T and M4T+ as interests. Further, I also check the majority of the "erotic interests," avoiding what I call the "torture" categories. Anyway, I click "Save." I didn't expect much at this point. I just hoped the Russian mob wouldn't show up at my door with an "offer I couldn't refuse," nor grifters wanting to tie me up and steal my wallet!

Next, I take a look at the publicly posted pics. Some show really nice-looking women, but most don't have much to say about themselves, so I didn't pursue any of those. There were a few group pics -- two women seeking more of the same, three buff guys looking for any available holes, mass orgy invites, among others.

I was quite surprised to get a response of interest within only a day. The sender directed me to visit their private page. What was displayed was a senior-ish looking couple embraced in a nude hug. Very tasteful, I thought. And, they were quite a handsome couple, at that. Despite my "bi" curiosities, I had not followed through right away, and to keep reading more about them. Their self-description was pretty basic -- over a silver anniversary together, still in love, adventurous, VERY sexual, and looking to party with a younger but mature man -- for both her AND him to play with. This already got my motor running. I then took a peek at their two other pics they posted and was impressed by her plump figure and full bush. He looked modest in both stature and endowment, with a full barrel chest and toned biceps. His hands were one of his most outstanding features. He must hold onto his wife very firmly with those! They both sported very attractive silver locks -- on his generous manly chest and her beautiful straight mid-length bob.

Naturally, I reply with my interest in hearing more about them. Then, I was met with an immediate, "We'd like to see what you look like pics," to which I responded with a stock photo of Hulk Hogan's body with my face pasted on it. They thought that was rather cute. I decided to dare myself to take some cute nudes of myself. But first, I would need a drink!

After a belt or two of bourbon, I was ready for the big reveal. I stripped off my clothes and set up my desktop selfie tripod I used for Zoom calls. First, I teased them by wearing nill but my best jockstrap for a profile shot and smile. Feeling braver, I turned away from the camera with my face turned backwards towards it, highlighting my best "asset". Of course, I clenched my buns tight for emphasis. When the alcohol fully kicked in, I felt especially randy. I assumed a 3-point stance with my ass facing the camera, like a football player about to hike the ball. My ass was really pointed up high. This yielded an ultra naughty pic featuring my prominent buns, with my balls and shaved cock hanging down looking as lewd as possible.

For my next one, I pose in a more demure fashion, with my side leaning against a wall and my arms akimbo. After a couple of stills on a bear rug, I figure my portfolio is complete. I upload them onto their private portal (wink, wink) and hope for the best, guessing it ought to be well received. It takes about an hour to hear back from them, but alas, I triumphed. Their return message read, "To: Sorensen23 [that's me]: Thank you for the pics. Wifey and I both love them -- macho yet relaxed and playful! Olivia was particularly impressed at those cheeky ones. (She was always a butt aficionado. Me too!) You seem like someone whom we are looking for. I'll soon send you my direct contact info. Until then, tell us more about yourself. Oh! And do enjoy viewing more of our more risqué photos on this missive."

Attached to this missive was indeed a set of race spreads. One showed them on the edge of a bed, her on her back, legs divided, while he was standing in mid-pump, driving into her silvered hairy pussy. I was right about his big hands -- they had a clamp on her pronounced love handles. The next one was a close-up of them, again locked in missionary. I could see his big hanging balls, blurred by the speed of his thrusting, pounding against her asshole. Juicy! Another featured her on top and facing away from him. Her sizable hangers, like her husband's balls, were gyrating so much from her pounces that I could hardly discern her gorgeous half-dollar sized areolas. I loved the sight of her wide glutes raised above him, about to descend hard on his midsection. Too bad they didn't show how her fat AZZ rippled as it slammed down on his rod. I was more impressed with them the more photos I saw.

The final shot was a tender one of the two embraced in a deep kiss, with both their eyes smiling brightly towards one another. That was clearly intended to emphasize that they are inseparable, and any man they chose to enter their boudoir best know not to covet either of them individually. I thought that was sweet, and message received! I returned kudos for their pictorial gifts. Divulging more of myself, I told them about the breakup of my marriage, my age, work situation, and dating flops -- all the basics. Of course, I had to include what I was looking for, i.e., a companion or two to act out fantasies with, and probably some friendship. I hoped that would further endear me to them.

I was curious about their background. After ogling over their photos, I took a peek at their profile. They said their ages to be in the 60s, and that they sought a "flexible" single slightly younger partner to join them. In looking more closely at their profile pic, I tried to match them to similarly aged adult film actors. I came up with this: he was a more stocky virtual twin of Marc Kaye, and she the spitting image of Sandy Big Boobs, both regulars of Mature.NL and 21Sextury vids.

To my surprise, the couple said, "thanks for the background. We like what you say about yourself -- confident, yet tender. You are EXACTLY the kind of mate we've been looking for -- maybe even longer than you have. Let's skip the Dixie cup and string chatter and meet in person? If your banter is as smooth and genuine as it's been so far, we'll have come to our retirement residence at the "Life's Retreat" independent living facility. Meet us in the downstairs lounge. You'll know it's us, as you've already seen some of our intimate moments. We look forward to seeing you by 8:00, p.m., of course, and if you play your cards right, then you'll not be leaving till at least till a.m.!)

After our conversation, I was beginning to feel confident about this maiden foray into group fun, and proud that I had the nerve to actually do it. I couldn't wait until Friday when it would happen. I tried in vain to refrain from watching senior porn and getting my jollies, but the temptation from anticipation was just too much.

Several long days later it's Friday Night! At last, it's meetup day, and I was on my way to their place. When I arrived, I instantly located the happy couple at the end seats of the facility's tiny bar. I smiled and sauntered over to them, and as I introduced myself, they stood from their high bar chairs and extended their hands to mine.

How striking she looked, carrying herself well in a full length electric blue dress. It hugged her with just the right degree of snug and slink. One side had an alluring slit running up from her gold sandal to dangerously close to her black lace panties. She had made a point of revealing that with a pronounced slow dismount from the chair, also the toned smoothness of her freshly shaven legs. She made sure to display to me how the dress also hugged her meaty buns, and that one could easily see the wondrous line separating the two buttocks.

That scandalous gown held her tight across her breasts. The outfit featured a plunging neckline, barely covering the Double D-cups they cradled. The pièce de résistance was her sparsely glittered and mascara accented cleavage. She stood tall and proud, with a disguised smile that belied a tigress's prowess. I kissed the back of her hand in a manner of awe and deference. She looked like a queen, and she had visually surveyed my body head to toe. Her smile developed fully when her eyes dwelt upon the blooming tent within my groin.

He dressed rather smartly himself. He sported a leather vest, unbuttoned, with crisscrossing suede laces binding the front and rear panels. His long sleeved shirt was a dark lavender, the top two buttons unfastened. His partially exposed chest hints at a forest of silver curley locks beneath (and below!) The cuffs were folded just short of his elbows. The snug slacks are a contrasting black, also cuffed on the bottom. His laceless shoes were of a dark red semi gloss patent leather with a fish-scaled pattern. It was quite a stunning vision. Like wifey, his bottoms held in a shapely posterior, no doubt sculpted from frequent gym visits.

Hubby spoke first, "Glad to at last meet you in person."

I smile, returning the handshake, and retort, "Same here. What ya'll drinking?," I said, staring at their glasses, and trying to preemptively guess what's in them.

"Oh no! You're OUR guest, so what are YOU having?" chides wifey, "I'm Olivia, by the way."

"Sorry, I didn't introduce us: my wife's name you now know, and I'm Gregory," he had a vice grip, which I thought I'd be prepared for, "so, you didn't answer my wife?"

I had to think for a minute, then clumsily answered, "oh! Drink, right. I'll take a Dewer's on ice," trying not to look too stupefied from their easy manner and physiques. After our respective intro's were done, we all relaxed and had a great time getting slowly sloshed, at the same time laughing at each other's war stories. By 9:00 pm, we realize that we're the only one's left, and the bartender has been scarce. That was our cue that it was the time to move it to the next level (Their apartment was on the third floor -- ha,ha.)

Looking around at the vacant oasis, Olivia suggests, "Looks like we have a mutual rapport here," pointing with her eyes to our full-blown erections, "And I see the gentlemen like what they see!. Why don't we give you 'tour' of our place."

When Gregg turned to walk to their apartment, Olivia took the opportunity to sneak a squeeze of his left buttock, looking back at me to ensure that I saw what she did. She then motioned me forward with her head in a "come hither" motion. I quickly assumed myself to the right of her. She giggled at my startled reaction to her impromptu grasp of my buttock. Good thing no one else was around to raise their eyebrows in shock, but I had a feeling that would have only encouraged her further.

Once inside their door, Olivia spun me around aggressively facing the front door that her husband had just locked and chained. The bolted lock was on the inside and only opened with the key Gregory had been guarding. Before I had a chance to protest, Olivia roughly pulled down my pants and draws, exposing my smooth behind. She quickly took a firm hold of my balls from behind. She had me motionless. Meanwhile, hubby had stealthily bound my arms behind my back with a strong zip tie. My first thought evoked my darkest fears: I'd voluntarily walked into my own demise and blew by the warning signs. But then, Olivia gave my left bun a squeeze and cooed into my ear, "Don't worry, my sexy new friend, we're just living out little fantasy of abducting a young Turk like yourself, and having our way with him," that was good enough for me, and I willingly played along with their rouse.

"And, here I thought you were such a nice couple," in victim character I continued, "Oh! Please don't take advantage of me. I'll do anything you say!," as I fed into their game.

"Darn right you'll do what we say," barked Greg, "we call the shots around here, bitch boy! Now you better listen to Olivia if you know what's good for you. What would you like to do with him, dear?"

She smugly declares, "Let's take this one to our bedroom. He can watch you make love to me so he can see how I like it," says Olivia.

They marched me into their boudoir with her leading and Gregory pushed me along while I was in between them. I stumble at the threshold before noticing the sensual burgundy hued trappings: heavy drapes that allowed only a sliver of moonlight to pass through, a four post king bed with a sheer white canopy, Victorian era fumed oak makeup station complete with a large mirror, heavy mahogany Hepplewhite armoire, and fleur-de-lis patterned area rug. There was also a full wall-covering mirror just opposite the bed. Kinky me thinks!

"Stand by the dresser boy. Watch and learn," Gregory demands of me. I shuffle mutely to said location and stand at attention.

Olivia reclined on the bed with her legs spread wide, and I drooled at the sight of her dripping pube framed pussy lips. It was pink and needy, and its petals were open wide for plunder. Gregg checked to see the progress of my hardon, he need not worry of its extreme turgidity. After visual confirmation, he sidles up her legs, applying butterfly kisses along the way to her wanton snatch. He stops at the apex of her crotch and deeply inhales. His eyes were closed in reverence of her musk. She grabs a hold of his short hair and shoves his face down on her pussy. I can see that he intentionally teased her with light licks along her outer labia. In frustration, she cupped the back of his head with her left hand and further pushed him into her. Gregory got the message and proceeded to fervently lavish her with his tongue and lips. Olivia now drops her head back on the mattress. Her mouth became agape in pleasure.

I had just shifted back and forth from foot to foot trying to contain my lust, but it's getting near impossible. When she raised her head, she looked in my direction and discovered my dilemma.

She pushed hubby off to say, "Awe, look at our 'catch' dear husband, he looks so lost without a nipple to suck. Come here, my pet and feast upon your queen's teat," as she grasped her right breast and raised it for emphasis. I dutifully approached their marital bed and knelt upon the mattress.

It wasn't easy to bend forward without flopping face first with my arms bound, but I did manage to reach her protruding nub and latch onto it with my lips. Hubby does the same with her left. The dual breastfeeding must've been heaven for her, because her response was to begin to reach down and manipulate her own vagina. In mere moments afterward she issues a muffled cry of ecstasy.

When she opened her eyes, she said, "not bad fellas, for the first one of many. "Slave...," (as she beams right through me), "attend to my juices. I don't wish to spend the night sleeping on a wet towel. G, darling, be a dear and cut our prize loose so he can attend to us unencumbered!"

Her husband fetches a knife and cuts my restraint. Immediately I rubbed my wrists from discomfort and awaited further instructions. It is not long before they were delivered, "I'm just in the mood to watch some mano-a-mano. Gregg, I want you to show our 'guest' his proper place at the altar of your cock."

He gave me a sly look and stood on the floor looking down at me with his arms crossed, waiting; waiting for me to apply oral service to his long and thick manhood. Despite my hesitancy, my own had not diminished at all. I tentatively brought my mouth up to his package while I sat on the edge of the bed. Looking up into his eyes just to see if he really meant me to follow through or not, I met his impatient glare, It was all the confirmation I needed. I stuck out my tongue and made initial contact with his cock head. I slowly breathed in his musky aroma, enjoying the sensation of capturing his essence into my nostrils. He had about enough of my tentativeness, and demonstrated that by pushing my face directly into his crotch. My mouth suddenly became full of him, my nose buried in his coarse nest of pubes. He got a hold of my hair and oscillated my head back and forth along his length, and in a sense, gently face fucking me. His own head was tilted at the ceiling, a sure sign that I'm doing right by him.

The matriarch spoke, "That's enough! Husband, come hither and fill my cunt with your now saliva slick dick."

He's more than anxious to comply with her wishes. She leans back on top of the mattress, and rolls onto all fours, "fuck me my husband and let him lick your balls while you pound me properly."