1994: Expanding Our Game Ch. 01bygggsss1962©
1994: Expanding our game: Fun with the Friends Ch. 1
1 - Marco
Karin and I were so much intimate that we felt frustrated we couldn't get even closer. Or so we thought.
One of the funny examples of Karin unexpected shyness, was her reluctance to tell me stories from her kinky past. She wasn't proud of it, and she was afraid I could lose respect for her. The strange thing was that there was much less kink than you may expect.
When it came to the real business, even if Karin had always been very open to sex and anything involved, her fantasy (and the one of her many partners) had been quite limited. Once I managed to loosen up her tongue and have her discussed her sexual past, it came out that most strange request of her partners had been dressing up. No BDSM, no domination, no orgies, no fetish or perversions of sort. No anal either, as I knew already.
Quite a lot of drugs, but that was another story, one to try to forget.
One of the most surprising points was, she had never experienced Group Sex; not even a threesome. Basically, having Ysa to watch while she was using her lovers was the kinkiest thing she had been doing... Ysa being her – now ours - Bull Terrier.
Okay, my own experience in that field wasn't a large one either, but I was boosting a total score of about twenty partners (at the time), not two hundreds plus!
The closest she went to a threesome was one day in Amsterdam, when after fucking her boyfriend-of-the-week's brain out, she left him almost unconscious in the bed to go and answer at the door. It turned out to be a common acquaintance, a boy from their group of friends (?), a couple of years younger than her. It appears that she fucked her on a standing position, on the very doorframe and in full view on the street. Then she slammed the door closed, and got fucked a second time, doggy-style on the carpet of the living room. As it often happens to her, she screamed loud, and the boyfriend-of-the-week (she couldn't recall his name) got up and found out. He got pretty upset, got loud and called her a whore. Now, this was the only derogatory name Karin couldn't stand for, so she kicked him out of the door straight away, naked as he was, before throwing his stuff out of the window. That was, she told me, the main reason why she wanted her boyfriends to move in, rather than the other way around: it was easier to get rid of them... Usually.
I tried to enquire about her feelings about the subject: was her interested at all? It looked strange to me that a girl so open-minded about sex wasn't interested in trying a threesome.
"Well, of course I would be interested," she confirmed, "But of course this is not to be."
I asked why.
"Because I'm not going to be unfaithful to you," she explained matter-of-factly. "All the man I want, it's you."
I knew that was absolutely true. Karin was absolutely reliable under that point of view. I remembered my father commenting once about a statistic Carabinieri made, about former prostitutes who got married and turned into very respectable wives: they were the most faithful of companions.
But it was evident Karin and I was talking about two different things.
"Honey, we don't need to involve any other man. I mean, I have no interest in another man screwing you. What I would be interested in, is a threesome with another girl."
She looked at me: "Well, I have no interested in you screwing another girl either. You are mine. And honestly, I have absolutely no wish to get intimate with another woman."
That was something new. I never thought women could be as hostile to have sex with somebody of their own sex in the bed as men usually are. But of course, it made sense. Karin was a full heterosexual. A men-huntress.
"You mean you find other girls disgusting?" If that was the case, farewell dreams of a threesome for the rest of my life...
Karin hesitated. "Well, I never really thought of that but... I think it is the same for you, isn't it? I mean, would you like to have another naked man around while making love to me, and having to watch him fucking me?"
I shook my head no. "Of course not... Not at all."
I feared the subject was closed, but after a while, Karin asked: "Would you really like to have sex with another girl?"
I hesitated. I didn't mean to imply she wasn't enough for me. But hell, I did dream of another girl in the bed, at least once! "I think it's every man dream... I don't mean to just have another girl, but to have her together with you... And only to have sex with."
She didn't take it that bad. She just kept quiet for a short while, and then asked: "Should I ever accept to try, would you reciprocate?"
I looked puzzled.
"I mean, should I accept to have another girl in the bed to play with together once in a while, would you accept to have another man too, just after?"
I gulped. The very idea was quite disgusting. Like many men, and most soldiers, I am quite homophobic. I am not proud of it, but that's how I am.
Karin took my silence for an answer: "That's what I thought."
It sounded quite sound and fair. No threesomes. Ever.
I decided to try again: "You mean, if we play a threesome with a woman, we have to play another one with a man too?"
She nodded solemnly: "Right. On a one-to-one ratio. I think it would be fair, don't you agree?"
I had to admit it did. "But it would not be the same thing... I mean, I would never play with another man!"
"I would never play with another woman either. I have never been bi-curious or anything... I would just accept her around for your sake, let you screw her in front of me after I get my share first, and that's it. And then, I expect to fuck another man in front of you, the same way. What about that?"
It sounded as fair as a court rule. She looked pretty serious about this one.
I nodded slowly: "It sounds reasonable... But the girl first. Then you get even. I can't stand feeling like a cuckold, not even for a short while."
This time she smiled: "I'd never cheat on you, and you know that. But I am also possessive. You can get your gal first, fine. But I am sorry; this is the maximum I can accept. And, there is another thing."
"I chose the girl. Trust me on that, and you won't regret. But I'm not ending up in bed with a bimbo with big boobs and no brain. I can't feel physical attraction to her, so if I have to share my bed and my man, I want at least to appreciate her as a person."
"Hmmm... Okay, but we will have to discuss about it in advance. I don't want to have to fuck a girl I don't like..."
"I know you. Trust me. And of course, you'll have a veto power about the man. Deal?"
It sounded far too abstract to me. So I just nodded my agreement, and jumped on her, to take advantage of her beautiful body.
I won't say I stopped thinking of it. I didn't. But I put the thought on the side, just assuming it would never happen, not for the time being. Leaving the initiative to find a suitable girl to her, meant to me it was going to take a long time before anything happened, and anyway I was not sure about this bloody idea to reciprocate and getting another male in my bed to fuck the woman I loved.
Time went, and the arrangements for our wedding were now at a quite advanced stage. The ceremony was planned, the wedding dress prepared, the party organized, the honeymoon booked. Most was paid for already; something had still to be arranged, but all in all, our life was quite a blur.
The list of the guests was ready too. It was quite a complicate one, since people were coming from quite far away, due to our large array of acquaintances... Apart from my family, friends and colleagues, there was the whole group of my parents friends (since the ceremony was taking place in our town); a big patrol of Dutch's coming down from Amsterdam and from Karin's town, plus isolated friends from England, Switzerland and Portugal.
The guest coming from most far away was an old school friend of Karin, who was half Dutch and half Croatian, and at the time lived in Australia: she was called Carina, and supposed to be anyway in Europe around the time of the wedding.
"Carina won't make it for the ceremony," Karin told me one day: "Her time schedule doesn't match ours. But she will be here one week before the wedding to see us anyway."
"Oh?" I was not that interested to have guests at home the week before the wedding, but on the other hand, if a friend comes to see your wife-to-be from Australia, you can't say no. "That's nice of her to make the effort. How is she?"
"Oh, she's very Dutch I suppose. Almost as tall as me, same age, fair, short-haired... Very attractive; and pretty slutty if you ask me."
Quite a statement. And a very typical one from Karin.
"By the way, I believe she could be the girl for our threesome."
"Beg your pardon?" I was flabbergasted.
She looked at me and smiled: "I'm absolutely positive you'll like her body as much as you'll hate her character. She's game for all what is kinky; she used to say, 'The dirtier, the better'. You will die both to screw her and to kick her ass out of the door... She's perfect for our threesome. Don't you think so?"
I looked at the picture she was handing to me, and I couldn't but agree.
Carina was going to stay at our place two nights the week before the wedding. This really disturbed me.
Not that it was annoying just because we were busy: that wouldn't be that upsetting, considering that I was getting the opportunity to screw an extremely cute chick. The problem was, after doing Carina, I was compelled to reciprocate, and allowing Karin her threesome with another man. And since there was essentially no time before the wedding, this would happen after. I was going to allow my newly wedded wife to screw a stranger?
No way. Even after fucking Carina, I would feel cuckolded. Call me stupid, but I could not stand that. I had to think of something. Quickly.
I was on duty at our CFE Inspection Agency the week before Carina arrived. I asked to anticipate my shift in order to avoid problems during the honeymoon. It was an easy job: it involved just to be in the Agency base in a team of five, ready to meet any sudden CFE requirement on our national territory which may arise due to any possible (or impossible) reason. There was a permanent team 365 days a year on alert and all CFE-trained personnel was taking his shift, basically twice a year.
The only problem was, the Agency at the time was located in Viterbo, a small city North of Rome. I didn't like to leave Karin alone in our city, for the reason that you already know, and also because I just wanted to stay with her as long as possible; so I just took her with me.
We lived in a cute small hotel next to the Army Aviation training Centre, where the Agency was located, where the Army had a contract for a number of rooms, and I just took a double one, paying for the difference.
As we arrived, we met of course the rest of the team; none of them had the wife with them, so everybody was quite happy to meet us and have dinner at our table.
The dinner turned into a nice evening and Karin, whose Italian was by then quite good, ended up as the queen of the night. Easy, being the only female, but it wouldn't work if she wasn't as stunning as she looked like.
The Team Leader in particular was very pleased. As an Air Force pilot, he saw himself irresistible and knew very little of military regulation, so he went as far as inviting Karin to join us at the base at our duty time. Regretfully, we had to decline.
But the best surprise for me was discovering one of the members of our team was another Captain from my same Academy course, a very nice guy I used to be very good friend with during our captivity, and which whom I had maintained a quite good relationship, even if the distance between our bases prevented us from meeting more than once a year. He was also in Somalia together with me, but being a parachutist, he was back in Moga during the whole period, and we had met only once, when out patrols met in Giawhar.
Marco was a slim, tall guy from Rome, with a very good humour and decent English, which made it suitable also for Karin to make friends, once she was tired to exercise her Italian. I knew his wife quite well: they were already engaged back during the Academy, and we even went out together a few times in Rome. As a typical southern wife, she got nuts when her husband was at war; poor Marco had to worry for her being on pills due to a nerve breakdown, while he was under fire in the streets of Moga, commanding his company in action next to Checkpoint Pasta. Quite a story.
Marco was partly responsible about my anal sex obsession, since he had been my first friend claiming he had been practising it (of course not with his present wife!). Until hearing his stories I just thought it was hardly impossible to coax a normal girl into sodomy; after that, I started craving my piece of ass.
We ended up having dinner with Marco every evening of the week, carefully avoiding the others with the excuse that Karin used to eat early. It was nice company, we didn't only recall our stories from the Academy and from Somalia, which would have excluded Karin, and we involved her in all sort of discussion and debate. As I said, the girl had a very good culture, and could stand confrontation on most subjects.
A good hit was politics. Of course, we had strong differences: Marco and I, being in the Army, were of course rather on the right wing, while Karin, as a good 'progressive intellectual' (as she called herself), was quite leftish. Our discussions could last long into the night, and she proved perfectly capable to meet our arguments. She knew nothing of our domestic politics, and we knew nothing of Dutch one, so our subjects were quite high, and involved international events, the war in the Balkans, the Third World debt...
Often, I would stand out of the discussion, and just witness my woman fight back my friend opinions (which I mostly shared), cheering her wit and capability. Gosh, I loved that girl!
The shift was changing on Monday afternoon, so we had to cover Sunday knowing in advance that nothing was going to happen then (any CFE event has to be notified 24 hours in advance); which meant the day was essentially free.
After checking up the Agency, Marco and I met Karin at the local Chinese restaurant, the only one in town which would provide you with lunch at 12.00 am. Karin was rearing a sleeveless, pink-shocking blouse which made a sparkling contrast with her long blond hair and dyed short jeans which exposed not only all of her stunning long legs, but a fair portion of her firm and tanned buttocks too. The tissue of the blouse was just thick enough to hide the lack of bra, but it was plain evident she had no underwear from the total bareness of her back. She was beautiful, and also a bit slutty, just as I liked her. You would never say she was 34!
It was late June in central Italy, and very hot. It is an Etruscan archaeological area, and we both knew it well, due to the fact that in the vicinity there was a large training range we often used with our respective units. So we thought it would be a good idea to show Karin something of it. Not the museums, but the very area of the excavations, where normal tourists rarely went.
There is an area nearby the old Etruscan town of Tarquinia, where the ancient Italic people buried their folks for over 1500 years. It is kind of a canyon in the middle of the hilly plateau, with kind of an island in the middle, which name was Norchia: along the sides of the canyon next to the island thousands of Etruscan graves were dug into the soft stone; on the island itself, during the very first century of our era, the early Christians had built a church on the location of an ancient Etruscan temple, and later on a medieval castle had been erected a few hundred metres away, to exploit the strong natural position. Both construction were long abandoned and reduced to small ruins, but were hard to reach and very characteristic. Besides, both were old and abandoned before the first Dutch built their first stone wall, so we thought Karin, with all her intellectual pretences, would find it interesting.
We weren't wrong.
We drove to the edge of the canyon, where only a couple of cars were parked, and we walked down along the steep staircase carved in the rocks until we reached the bottom of the canyon, where all the grave holes were dug. There were two small groups of tourists, all middle-aged males, who were roaming around the caves, snapping pictures and reading small guides.
We explored the archaeological area for almost an hour, with the sun getting hotter and hotter, until the largest group of tourists disappeared to look for lunch. When we started climbing the path which led to the island and the ancient cathedral, the last two adventurous tourists were slowly climbing the steps to the car parking.
I couldn't blame them: the heat was really strong. But Marco and I were quite well trained by our Somali experience, and Karin was very resistant herself, not to mention very lightly dressed...
It was evident it was a while since the last tourist had been along that path: a week at least, since the grass and leaves were obstructing it in more than a point. We crossed a small pedestrian wooden bridge and we started hiking towards the flat top of the island, which was a good hundred metres high. Good the path was in the shadow.
We had a pit stop at the top and got some water from my field canteen I kept in a small backpack and took some pictures of us, and then we moved on towards the ruins.
The path run along the mid of the narrow island, first towards the castle, which sat in the very centre of it, and then to the church, that was on the opposite side and couldn't be reached without crossing the castle.
They weren't big buildings: the ruins of the castle were about 25 metres long and almost as wide, and the church was cross-shaped, with the axis not more than 20 metres long. Small, ancient buildings.
The castle was in slightly better conditions, since it was a few centuries younger... It was sort of a permanent checkpoint on the road to the church: the path went through it, via a room which must have been either a place to check the pilgrims or to host them; probably both. The rest of the fortification was beside and above the passageway, but looked dangerously unstable.
We weren't the first to arrive there, of course... And the ones before us had been impolite enough to leave the remnants of their picnic and some more waste. Insects were feasting on the remnants and the air stanched a bit.
We went over after snapping a couple of shots, and I took the opportunity to fondly caress my wife-to-be sweet bottom.
Karin purred, without any embarrassment; Marco smiled and looked away.
"No reason to risk your lovely legs to be bitten by those wasps," I said; "Let's go to see the old Cathedral."
I took a last pic of Karin and Marco, and I led the way.
The church was just a hundred metres further, on the last rock before the chasm.
I reached the ruins the first and climb on the mound which lay where once had been the external wall; inside there was one single, cross-shaped room, with four different chambers at the extremes, which had been the chapels. Three were filled with vegetation, while the last, right on the edge of the chasm, was pretty clean. Not easy to reach, but clean. Apparently it had been cleared by somebody, since it had the remnants of a window through which you could look down into the chasm, where the two branches of the creek rejoined after the island and flew downstream along the canyon. Quite a sight.
I gestured the others to follow and started to climb down, opening the way through the plants and the thorns to reach the small chapel.