Wife and Ex-Wife Ch. 10

Amelia crawled painfully out of bed the next morning, her stiff joints and her aching bottom reminding her all too clearly how out of practice she was at protracted lovemaking. (Her last boyfriend, the infamous Jack, barely managed to have one climax before he fell asleep, alternately comatose and snoring.) She threw a nightgown over her head and tramped into the kitchen.

Nina was there already, whipping up their usual big weekend breakfast.

"Hi, dear!" she said cheerfully as she saw Amelia walk into the room.

"Hi," Amelia said.

As Nina surveyed her friend's tousled hair and sleepy expression (not to mention her occasional rubbing of her bottom), she said, just a tad sarcastically, "Had a good time?"

Amelia eyed her askance. "I feel like a truck ran me over."

"Yeah," Nina said reflectively, "Patrick can have that effect on people."

Amelia didn't feel the need to reply to that as she helped to prepare the meal.

"It was good, though, wasn't it?" Nina said, suddenly concerned.

Amelia looked over to Patrick's wife. "Yes, of course it was. You know what a good lover he is. I'm just not quite used to his . . . enthusiasm."

"I think," Nina said, "he wanted to be especially ardent for you."

"Maybe. I guess I have to get back into practice."

Patrick now stumbled in, looking not much better than Amelia. Although he had brushed his teeth, he had neglected to brush his hair—a very unusual oversight for him. Nina looked at the others and said:

"I think you two overdid things a bit."

"Yeah, I think so," Patrick said. "I'm sorry, Amelia."

"Don't worry about it," Amelia said. "I'll make sure to take a nap later."

As Nina was taking the used dishes back to the kitchen, Amelia approached Patrick and whispered in his ear, "You'd better make sure you give Nina some affection tonight."

The idea of the two women having Patrick in their bed on alternate nights had already become an unspoken part of the new dispensation.

"Oh, Amelia," Patrick complained, "I don't think she expects that from me. I mean, until last night I've shared her bed every night for a year and a half or more."

"Don't let her cheerfulness fool you," Amelia warned. "This is a pretty difficult moment for her too. She needs to know that you still love her."

"She knows that," Patrick snapped.

"Well, you're gonna have to prove it," Amelia said sharply. "A little cuddling isn't going to be enough."

Patrick trudged off, grumbling something about his cock falling off.

But that evening, as they prepared to lie in the big bed upstairs, Nina did seem a little pensive as she undressed. She had stripped naked and was merely holding her nightgown in her hands as she looked over to Patrick. "Do I—I mean, should I put this on?"

"There's no need for that," he said as he also threw his clothes off.

They embraced while standing near the bed, enjoying the feel of their bodies from head to toe. Patrick's member was hardening and pushing its way into Nina's belly, and she took it in her hand and stroked it a few times while being treated to a deluge of kisses all over her face, neck, and shoulders.

She slipped down to her knees and put his member in her mouth. Maybe it was her imagination, but she felt it smelled and tasted a little different, even though Patrick had of course washed it thoroughly during his morning shower. Something about the experience made her eyes fill with tears; and as she stood up, she stopped Patrick from retreating to the bed, as he was about to do, and said:

"Do me standing up, please."

There was no doubt that she was trying to re-create their first union in her downstairs shower so many months ago—but was she unconsciously thinking of something else? Patrick and Amelia can't do it this way: she's too short, and their parts don't line up!

Patrick went into her, lifting one of her legs with one hand to allow better entry while placing the other hand in the small of her back to keep her steady. They didn't kiss, but simply looked almost blankly at each other as he pounded her with increasing force, his thrusts making her breasts quiver lusciously. To his own surprise, he didn't last long, and as his juices flowed into her she surprised herself by having a sudden, shuddering orgasm that almost dislodged him from her pussy.

But he remained firmly embedded in her, and they remained clinging to each other for minutes after their climaxes had faded. Both of them loved the feeling of utter unity and intimacy that such a moment brings, and Nina for one wished Patrick could stay in her forever.

But at least they separated and fell into the bed. They snuggled luxuriously for a time, Patrick kneading her bottom as he always did to get himself ready for another go. And as he reached behind himself and opened the top drawer of the nightstand, Nina said warningly, "Patrick, what do you say?"

He looked like a scolded schoolboy. "Sorry. Um, may I?"

"Yes, you may, dear."

She positioned herself appropriately, and he applied the lube and then plunged into her. After his initial entry, he proceeded at a sedate pace: there was no question he was already tired, and Nina wouldn't have been surprised if he had eventually pulled out without an orgasm. Poor dear! Amelia and I are working him a bit too hard! But his slow, sure strokes ultimately resulted in a climax for both of them.

Patrick pulled out and flopped over onto his side of the bed. He was obviously too tired to go and clean up. Nina, herself pretty exhausted, managed to clamber out of bed, go to the bathroom, and bring back a moist washcloth with which she washed his cock like a dutiful mother tending to her son's scraped knee. Then she fell asleep, recognizing that Patrick was already sleeping like the dead.

She talked about the situation with Amelia the next morning as they both prepared to go to work. Amelia could tell that Patrick had done his marital duty, but she also saw that Nina was vaguely troubled.

"How was it?" she asked.

"It was fine—wonderful," Nina said absently. "It always is."

"I'm glad."

"But you know, Amelia, we can't overdo it—or have him overdo it. He's not Superman!"

"He comes pretty close."

"Maybe, but we don't want him getting exhausted. He might end up resenting us for that."

"I know what you mean. I never expected him to perform every single night with either of us."

"That's right: we have to give him time to recover."

"A lot of the time I'll be happy with just a little cuddling before we go to bed."

"Me too."

"Well, then, it's settled. But I have a feeling he'll want to have enough action to satisfy both of us."

"Yeah, I think so too."

It was on the following Friday night, when Nina was getting ready to head upstairs, that Amelia put a hand on her friend's arm and stopped her progress.

"What is it, dear?" Nina said. "Something wrong?"

"No, no," Amelia said airily, "nothing wrong at all. I was just wondering . . ."

"Wondering what?" Nina said.

For some reason Amelia couldn't look Nina in the face. Patrick, for his part, was staring intently at his two women, but was otherwise offering no help in getting Amelia to say what was on her mind.

With a huge sigh, Amelia said, "I don't know how to put this exactly, Nina, but—would you, um, care to join us tonight?"

Nina stood stock-still, her mouth opening a little. She looked wordlessly at the two of them.

"Patrick and I," Amelia went on quickly, "have been talking about this, and we thought it might be—fun. More than fun, really."

"Is that right, Patrick?" Nina said agitatedly.

"Yes," was all he said.

Nina's mouth dropped still further. "Omigod," she whispered. "Do you really—?"

"Oh, Nina," Amelia said fervently, "I think it will be so nice! There's nothing wrong with it, is there?"

"I don't know," Nina said dreamily. "I guess not."

"Then you'll do it?" Amelia said urgently.

"I suppose." Nina's response wasn't quite as enthusiastic as the other two were hoping for. Still in something of a fog, she went on: "We're going to need the big bed for this, won't we?"

"Yes," Patrick said again as he marched up the stairs ahead of the others. Amelia followed, and Nina brought up the rear.

By the time Nina got to the bedroom, well behind the others, Patrick had already stripped naked. Amelia had taken off everything but her bra and panties, and Patrick helped her with those.

Nina gazed at the other woman, saying, "Omigod, Amelia, you're so beautiful!" She took in the swell of Amelia's breasts, the curve of her bottom, her somewhat heavy thighs, her delicately tapered calves and slender feet, all surmounted by a face of radiant beauty that at the moment seemed more than a little flushed.

"You're beautiful too, Nina," Amelia said as she approached her and began unbuttoning Nina's blouse. Patrick's wife watched in a daze as his ex-wife peeled off her remaining clothes, whipping off her panties with a flourish and giving her bottom a squeeze.

"Wh-what do we do?" Nina said shyly.

"Oh, just improvise," Patrick said placidly.

But, as if on some silent signal, both women dropped to their knees in front of their man and began simultaneously licking and sucking his cock. Each woman alternately put it into her mouth, and sometimes they licked either side of the shaft with their tongues as they gently played with his balls—something both of them knew drove Patrick wild. After several moments of this, Patrick pulled both women up to their feet and hugged them both, delighting in the feel of a pair of breasts on either side of his chest. And as he kissed them on the mouth and face in turn, he used one hand to stroke each woman's sex, eliciting little squeals of pleasure from both of them.

At some point in the proceedings, Amelia bent over to Nina, took her face in her hands, and gave her a deep, wet kiss on the lips. Even though they had done something like this at least once before, Nina was nonetheless shocked and excited, and a jolt of shivery pleasure went through her.

From here the proceedings got a little complicated. There are of course many different things that two women and a man can do; but as none of them were terribly well versed in the situation, they were at times a bit clumsy in the execution of various positions. In the blur of multitudinous climaxes that each of them received and elicited from the other, there were things like this:

As Patrick entered Amelia in the standard missionary position, Nina lay down next to both of them and alternately sucked one of Amelia's nipples and massaged Patrick's back and bottom;

Nina lay on top of Amelia at full length, Patrick entering her from behind as she thrust her tongue deep into Amelia's mouth;

Getting bolder, Patrick alternately invaded each woman's bottom as they hugged and kissed each other while lying on their sides;

As Patrick lay on his back, Amelia squatted over his groin while Nina sat on his face.

Then there was the time when Patrick was lying exhausted on one side of the bed while the women were also taking a little breather. Their bodies were glistening with sweat, and various dollops of Patrick's discharge were scattered on their persons. But as Amelia gave Nina a searching look, she said:

"You know what we have to do now, don't you?"

"What?" Nina said weakly.

Rather than replying, Amelia expressed herself by demonstrating. Having Nina lie flat on her back, she got into sixty-nine position, draping her body carefully over Nina's and gazing fixedly at her sex before plunging her face into it. Nina cried out sharply at the sudden sensation, but her cry was muffled by Amelia's thrusting her own sex into Nina's face.

They licked and sucked with gusto. Nina, pausing every now and then, found herself amazed at the sheer beauty of the female sexual apparatus. She of course could never have gotten such a close-up view of her own parts, but now that she was seeing Amelia's she felt an almost breathless sense of aesthetic pleasure at the delicacy of the labia (so much like rose petals!), the fragrance of Amelia's juices (I hope she likes mine too!), the ineffably gentle swelling of the clitoris (so much more elegant than a man's crude tumescence), and so much else that made a woman's sex Nature's most exquisite work of art. Both she and Amelia lost all track of time as they induced climax after climax in each other, achieving a kind of fugue state where nothing else existed but their own and the other's sensations.

But, as Patrick watched his women pleasure each other, he eventually revived. He had already had four climaxes and wasn't sure he could manage a fifth, but he'd give it a go. He positioned himself behind Amelia and thrust his organ into her anus, forcing out of her a choked cry that Nina felt went right up into her pussy. She herself was mesmerized at this incredibly close look at male-female penetration, Patrick's cock inches from her face as she saw it thrusting in and out of Amelia's bottom.

After some minutes Patrick knew that he would be successful in his quest—but at the last moment he pulled out of Amelia and sent his seed all over Nina's face, some of it falling on Amelia's pussy and eventually dripping down into Nina's mouth. The hot substance—and, more, her startlement at the surprising action—sent a jolting climax through her, augmented by Amelia's continuing licking of her sex.

After that, it was a collapse into sleep for all three. Nina barely had the energy to wipe her face before she fell into what felt like a drugged slumber. Patrick was between the two women, one arm draped over each of their chests.

Nina was the first to wake in the morning. Patrick's arm was still lying heavily on her, and she gently pried it off without waking him—although she sensed that it would take quite a lot to make him emerge from his exhausted near-coma. She looked up and saw Amelia's eyes open groggily.

"Amelia!" Nina whispered. "Come and help me make some breakfast. We'll let Patrick sleep a bit longer."

Both women got up stiffly and awkwardly, throwing nightgowns on and padding into the kitchen on slippered feet.

They were unusually quiet as they went about their accustomed tasks. Finally Nina couldn't hold it in any longer, and she said:

"That was—pretty wild, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Amelia said in a small voice.

"Have you ever done that before?"

"You mean a threesome?"

"Yes."

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"No."

They lapsed into silence again. Then Nina said:

"Have you, um, ever done it with a woman?"

"No. Have you?"

"No."

"You liked it, didn't you?" Nina seemed keen on knowing.

"I liked it with you," Amelia said fervently.

"So did I," Nina said.

As if on cue, they both stopped what they were doing and turned to each other. In a choked voice Nina said:

"You're such a sweetheart, Amelia."

"So are you, dear."

Nina took Amelia's face in both hands and gave her a long, slow kiss.

"I love you, Amelia," she said.

"I love you too, Nina."

And they kissed some more.

That was how Patrick saw them when he stumbled into the kitchen.

"Hey, you girls," he mocked, "didn't you get enough last night? Man, you two are insatiable!" And for good measure he gave a hearty slap to each woman's bottom.

Nina squealed in outrage and scowled at her husband. "This was a tender moment, guy! And we're women, not girls!"

"You certainly are," he said drily.

"Just sit down and wait for your breakfast," Amelia said sharply. "I'm beginning to feel like a drudge here."

"Yeah!" Nina agreed. "Why don't you cook us breakfast sometime?"

"I'll be happy to," Patrick said with aplomb. "But you always beat me to the kitchen."

"Well, we'll see what happens next time," Nina said.

And they went on with the preparation of the toothsome meal.

*

The women fell into a pattern of alternating with Patrick. Every other day seemed to be a good rhythm. There was some talk of Nina having Patrick three days in a row, and then Amelia three days in a row; but Nina confessed that she couldn't bear to be without Patrick that long, and Amelia admitted to the same thing. They made sure not to overtax Patrick in bed, although he seemed to find a single act of copulation almost every night well within his capacities. They also agreed that whichever woman was with Patrick on a given night should be in the big bed upstairs, with the other in the guest bedroom downstairs.

Nina surprised both of them by saying on Thursday, "I want Amelia to myself tomorrow night."

Amelia looked at her wide-eyed. Patrick's gaze was unreadable, but Nina suspected he felt a little crestfallen at not being able to repeat the threesome of the previous Friday.

"We'll do that again next week," Nina said pointedly, "but tomorrow I want some girl time with Amelia."

"I thought you said you weren't girls," Patrick said sourly.

"We're not. It's just an expression. You're gonna be okay being alone?"

"I suppose," he said with very poor grace. Imagine having two women under my roof—and I don't get to be with either of them.

When Friday night rolled around, both Nina and Amelia were somewhat on tenterhooks as they entered the upstairs bedroom and got ready for bed.

"So," Amelia said slowly, "what's this about?"

"Oh," Nina said with faux casualness, "I just wanted to talk a little. And," she added with a hint of naughtiness, "maybe do more than talk."

Amelia blushed crimson. She was still a little freaked out at how much she and Nina had let themselves go during that threesome. "So should I take this off?" she said, referring to her nightgown.

"No, leave it on for now. Let's talk first."

"About what?" Amelia said apprehensively.

"I think you know," Nina said a bit ominously. As they slinked into bed and into each other's arms, Amelia somewhat on top, Nina went on: "Do you really think this will work?"

"This what?"

"Oh, Amelia, this arrangement, of course. What else?"

"Sorry. I wasn't sure. . . . Um, I guess it will."

"You guess?"

"Well, I don't know! Maybe it's too early to tell. I mean, this is kind of an unstable situation."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But I'll tell you one thing." Nina seemed peculiarly emphatic on this point. "I actually feel a lot calmer about everything than I used to. People have called me a bundle of nerves, and I guess they're right; but I'm starting to feel tranquil in a way I haven't for a long, long time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. And I know Patrick does too."

"It's hard to read him sometimes."

"I know. But I can read him—and I'm sure you can too. You've known him a lot longer than I have."

"He seems different now."

"Really? How?"

"Oh, it's hard to describe. He was already more relaxed before this—arrangement—happened. Less uptight. And maybe less impatient."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. And so that's all good."

"But how do you feel?"

"I don't know yet," Amelia said frankly. "I hope that doesn't bother you."

"I just want you to be happy."

"I'm pretty happy."

"And I don't want you to be—you know . . ."

"No, I don't."

Nina had trouble getting the word out. "Jealous."

"Me jealous! Nina, Good God, you're the one who would have every right to be jealous! I mean, he's your husband!"

"Yes, I know—but somehow I don't."

"I think part of my concern is that I feel I've poked my nose into a situation where I don't belong—that I've invaded your marriage."

"Oh, Lord, you mustn't feel that way! I certainly don't."