tagGroup SexFor the Stranger in 6B Ch. 05

For the Stranger in 6B Ch. 05


Dedicated to "The Professor" - who made it all possible...


The next few years were busy, full years - full of adventure, full of excitement and full of loving. Any of the possible ways that two males and a female body could be put together we certainly did - separately and en masse. And on those rare occasions when we could find another compatible playmate, we added him, or more usually her, gladly. There was a great deal of love between the three of us and sex was frequently playful, always enjoyable, but mostly loving. Anyone who doubts that a woman in bed with two men who love each other and enjoy each others' bodies as much as they do hers...well, anyone who doubts that she is loved in abundance has never been there.

In a way, it was extraordinarily liberating - not having anything to hide any longer. It no longer mattered who was the middle of our particular "oreo" cookie sandwich, and while it usually was either Ivan or myself in the middle, it could in fact be any of us. It was (and remains so in memory) an intensely erotic experience to have, Ivan for instance, hovering above me in 69 position - pressed skin to skin - his hands and mouth loving me in ways that his experience still knew best how to accomplish - teasing me and keeping me poised on a knife-point edge of orgasm. Hearing his muffled grunts and cries of arousal and excitement and seeing your thick, white cock buried deep in his ass above me. Smelling the mingled musky smells of both your arousals and reaching to finger your ass or fondle your balls on those occasions when we erupted together - you pumping your spunk deeply into Ivan's ass, while his jets of bittersweet cum pounded the back of my throat, and I ground my pussy wetly across his face.

Another occasion might find me on the bottom of the pyramid - one of you fucking me hard from the front, or from the rear while behind him another set of hands reached forward to fondle me or to fondle my partner while their cock was buried deeply in the ass in front of them. Alternatively, I might be wearing one of our custom-made strap-ons, at the end of the train (with the specially rigged interior dildo for my pleasure while using)....or with the harness that allowed me, on more than one memorable night, to be stroking Ivan's ass with the "Curt dildo", while he 69'd with you, allowing you the freedom to alternate who you were performing oral sex on, while keeping those lovely, agile fingers of yours busily buried in my juicy folds throughout.

There continued to be intensely private, personally loving times between Ivan and I - as well as times for you and I Curt. Those tended to be more public, it's true. Somehow it seemed as though the exhibitionism we enjoyed so much more together, made up, in some small way, for Ivan not being there all the time to play with us.

In some ways, at times, there was a near dream-like quality to our sex and loving... I have the memories - I was there - but at times, it is almost as though the memories belong to someone else. Curt, your restaurant continued to do well and we ate there often - nearly as often as you cooked for us at home. Ivan continued as a "bounty hunter" - jobs that were too "borderline" and too volatile for federal agents (whether US Marshall Service or FBI) to perform Ivan could and did perform, usually gladly and always at exceptional profit. It meant I never had to work unless I wanted to (which I usually did just to keep busy and to keep from worrying about him), but also meant that we had the freedom to "play" anywhere in the world we wanted, for nearly as long as we wanted. The fact Curt, that you had your pilot's license and owned your own plane, later upgraded to a G-150 Gulfstream, just made traveling that much easier and sweeter.

One winter particularly comes to mind - the year that you decided to revamp my kitchen as a(n extremely generous) Christmas present Curt- ostensibly to Ivan and I, but considering who actually DID most of the cooking in that kitchen - well, I giggle even now thinking about it. The design was beautiful as well as imminently practical (for a professional chef). Everything planned for the highest possible combination of beauty, convenience and function - from the polished granite counter tops to the hydraulic doors on the Wolf range. There was even an Induction Cooktop built into the center island - although only you and God seemingly understood how it worked.....or the need for it.

At any rate, while the kitchen was being torn out the apartment was nearly unlivable due to noise, paint fumes, wood and stone dust. Ivan and I agreed that, as OUR Christmas present to you, we would all fly down to the Islands for a period of several weeks. You DID have to do the flying, but with us paying for fuel, and for the month long rental of the Belmont House, it wasn't a half-bad present.

Ivan and I had gone to the Virgin Islands on our honeymoon years before but the Belmont had been booked at the time and we had stayed in one of the Agape Cottages overlooking Cane Garden Bay while we were on Tortola. It remained one of my favorite spots that Ivan and I had traveled to together. But even at the time we had seen the Belmont House on the hillside overlooking Smugglers Cove Beach, and agreed that "someday" we would stay there.

Looking back, I think it was a perfect spot for us - the three of us - to go together. Two large bedrooms with king-sized beds on separate floors gave us plenty of "play room" as well as sufficient room to "get away from it all" and just sleep when preferred. You opted for the upper level Curt and the second floor had it's own full bath, kitchenette and dining area, allowing you total privacy when desired. Additionally, the view was magnificent stretching all the way to Cane Garden Bay. And finally, the Belmont itself was secluded and private. Some of my fondest memories in this life will remain of sunbathing on the wrap-around porch, overlooking the royal blue and teal waters of Smugglers Cove - quite often with one or the other of your faces - or cocks - buried between my thighs.

One day stands out in particular. During the preceding days I had managed to obtain a warm, all-over tan, by dint of carefully confining my time in the sun to the morning or late afternoon hours, with heavy use of sunscreens, hats and other cover-ups at all other times. Mid-morning one lovely day I had oiled up and headed to my favorite spot on the balcony to sun. Before long the warmth of the sun and the silken caress of the breeze had begun to stir my blood. Sleepily toying with myself I had no idea you had stopped reading and were watching from your window. Not that I'd have stopped then, but perhaps I'd have been more open about my playing. Regardless, it seemed that my actions reminded you of that night when we'd first met, and it wasn't long before you showed up beside my lounge chair, erect cock in hand and a lustful emerald twinkle in your hazel eyes. Not far behind you, Ivan leaned in the doorway, watching and fondling his balls. As you knelt and parted my thighs, Ivan moved to the head of the lounge. He was still watching your movements, but for now, presented his shaft to me for attention. We played like that for some time, and while I came gang-busters, neither of you had reached orgasm yet when we decided it was time to cool off and swim for a bit.

During the time that we'd been there we'd all but ceased to wear clothes except for rare occasions when we left the house to go into town. A trip to the beach at sunset or mid-day was no reason to change our habits-we'd never seen another human, outside of town, during the time we'd been there. Strolling down the shady drive we laughed, talked, touched, groped and tickled - enjoying the day and each others' bodies as well as the companionship. And we spent several hours happily playing and swimming. The camera of my mind's eye captured scenes throughout the day - the incredible blues of sea and sky and the spot on the horizon where they disappeared into each other - my head nestling on your shoulder, your hands alternately supporting my back where I floated and stroking and tickling those areas of my body you could reach , while Ivan eagerly tongued my pussy - wet from the gentle waves and his loving ministrations. The bleached white of the shells I gathered while you and Ivan stroked and sucked each other lazily in the shade at the edge of the beach.

I can still close my eyes and be there and then - seeing the glitter of sand on Ivan's skin like a dusting of fine sugar - tasting the salt of ocean and sweat in the folds of skin on your scrotum - hearing the raucous calls of the gulls overhead - feeling and tasting your and Ivan's cum, sticky, hot and bittersweet along my lips and tongue and from between my thighs when you tired of each other and returned to me. Even the fact that the first strangers we'd seen along our stretch of beach strolled up to watch didn't slow us down. Young, 20-something locals, or caramel-colored tourists we never knew which, they never spoke. She lifted the long, broom-stick skirt she was wearing to hungrily stroke her bushy cunt while the young man tried to watch everything at once - stroking his rod through his trunks at first, then dropping them to tug himself more fiercely, one hand simultaneously cupping and rolling his balls. When her need grew too strong she knotted her skirt around her waist and dropped to her knees for a quick lick and suck of the boy's throbbing cock before pulling him down onto the sand so she could climb aboard.

We were now watching them perform as eagerly as they were watching us, the fact that everything was being done in relative silence and anonymity seeming to increase the level of passion for all exponentially. The wet slap of bodies coming together echoed the wet slap of waves hitting the shore while the smells of heated flesh and sex came close to overpowering the salt smells of the bay. Finally, closing her eyes and throwing her head back with a moan she came, grinding her pussy hard against her young partner's pubic bone and sending him into a frenzy of bucking thrusts. An instant later when he began to cum too she lifted off him, framing the dark purple head of his engorged cock against her nether lips as dense ropes of his creamy spunk began to spatter the two of them. Reversing to 69 position she began to delicately lick and suck the cum from his skin while, from her squirms, he seemed to be performing the same service for her. The sight of this was too erotic and the three of us came together in a flurry of throbbing, spasming limbs and genitals.

It was one of the last, perfectly happy times we three had together before his next assignment robbed us of Ivan's humor, love and person forever.

You were there, thank God, the day the call came from that sleepy little, nameless, border town. When I went pale, cold and numb you grabbed the phone with one hand, me with the other. You were the one who heard the details of Ivan's last shoot-out - the only one he ever lost. You got the details and coordinates to fly to, packing a bag for each of us before physically loading me onto your Gulfstream and strapping me in. Grieving yourself you seemed to worry more over my lack of tears, never leaving me alone for a minute, even taking me to the bathroom and cleaning me, as tenderly as if I was a child. I remember the tenderness. I don't remember much else from the trip. You were right to be concerned. If willpower alone would have allowed me to join him, two coffins would be flying back.

It wasn't meant to be. I withdrew from work and from life, eating only when forced to, bathing only because you brought me into the shower with you. I have no idea how you managed it all - your restaurant and caring for me - but you did. Until the night I woke you, my mouth on you until you grew hard whether you wanted it or not and we broke our long drought, fucking hard, with little of love or gentleness involved, until we came, gasping, together - and I collapsed on your chest, weeping for hours.

That night began both our healing. It wasn't fast, or easy. There were still long, sleepless nights for both of us. I was never able to return to the apartment I had shared so sweetly with my Ivan, but I did not want to continue to impose on your love and good-nature forever either, Curt. I found a small place and furnished it from second-hand stores. I didn't want anything that reminded me of Ivan and our love. There continued to be many nights when we clung together desperately - hungry for a way to ease the pain and loneliness. Eventually though, life itself, and the love Ivan had given so freely, enabled us to step out into the world again. We traveled - together at first, and then later, tentatively and with hesitation, we began to travel alone. Small trips at first, then larger and longer journeys. There had been many places Ivan and I had planned to see together, and I saw them now, alone - weeping at times with the pain of missing him.

Returning from one such journey we ate together at your restaurant - and you introduced me to your new Manager, Virginia. There was something about the way you two seemed drawn together - your eyes always looking for her in the room - and the same with her. When you sat together you leaned toward each other and your hands seemed to constantly seek each others' touch. I think I knew before you admitted it to each other that you were in love.

And now, as the jet circles to land from a journey of another sort, my mind drifts over the intervening time. My discovery that our experiences and times together were fodder for a lucrative career writing erotica. My more recent discovery that, not only was I capable of loving again, but that a man five years younger, would find me, not only desirable but worthy of love as well. My upcoming plans to move to Alberta, Canada and a certain Black-Irish R.C.M.P. who was waiting for me there. I knew you would be full of excitement with the plans for your imminent nuptials with Virginia but I could barely wait to tell you my own news too. One chapter of my life was about to close but I was looking forward to beginning the next, and as I wave to you across the terminal and am swept up for your hug and kiss I am forever grateful to have known and loved you Curt. Grateful and glad that you plucked up your courage that night to come find me - us - and shared yourself and your love so generously with us. And I know that somewhere, Ivan is watching, and smiling as well...


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