“I won’t stop. But you may start.” Her hand, not needed to
allay his advances, fell limply. Not missing a stroke on her
clit, he gentle picked up her hand and placed it over his bulging
crotch. Her hand stayed there for what seemed like minutes.
Whether it was trepidation or fear of the unknown or whether it
was just the rapture at what was taking place in her body, we
will never know nor care, but her hand remained motionless.

“No, Jim. You can’t do that.” “Yes, Sandy, I can. You cannot
do anything about it, except enjoy it. There is no room in this
car to do anything, but explore, so don’t worry.” “I…I don’t
think we should.” “All right, just a few brief moments. It
won’t hurt.”

But she would not have the chance. The kiss became even more
passionate as his warm wet tongue forced its way between her
passionate lips. They circled around her glisteningly smooth
pearly teeth, hastening this way and that. They snaked along her
teeth into her cheek searching this way and that. The suggestive
nature was not lost on Sandy, nor was Jim’s desperateness. She
made the mistake of trying to speak and as her mouth opened, his
probing tongue entered unobstructed. “This is where I belong,”
it seemed to say. It hungrily searched out her tongue and
entangled himself with her’s.

As their tongues played gaily like little children Sandy became
acutely aware of what Jim had been noticing for a long time. She
was stretched nearly prone along the seat of the car and he was
covering her full length. The relative positions of their bodies
was nearly as a couple in the act of intercourse. The not
unpleasant increasing pressure from him on her loins was not lost
on her either.

With that he pulled her to him. The gear shift was decidedly in
the way, but he slid past it. Desperately he sought her lips.
“Sandy, I am going to kiss you and you cannot stop me. I have
longed to kiss you, but I have not wanted violence. But if I
must force you I will.”

Sandy had slid down in the seat trying to get away, but it only
allowed Jim to use his weight to hold her. His arms were now
firmly around her, pinning her upper arms to her side. As his
face came near to her, she turned her face away from him. “No!
Don’t, Jim.”

“Sandy! Look at me!” She stopped and turned her head. She
looked up at Jim with fear and anguish in her eyes, “I can’t let
you do it. I can’t live with it. Suppose someone comes by?”
“Sandy, I love you. Those things matter to me, but I do love
you, dearly. I have tried to express my love for you with
things, with notes, with spoken words. You acknowledge the fact
like it is a notice on the 6 o’clock news. ‘Interesting, but it
has nothing to do with me.’ Well, it does!”

With that he bent down and kissed her. She struggled to break
free, but he held her in a vise grip. Violently twisting her
face away she practically screamed, “This isn’t fair! Let me
go.” “No, Sandy, I have wanted to hold you close to me and kiss
you for longer than you could imagine. I shall not let this
moment pass.”
He reached up and held her face, twisting it around so he could
look deeply into her lusciously fierce blue eyes. “Sandy, I love
you, so very much I love you.” And he kissed her again.

Kristin apparently has also of late been thinking a lot about Dianne.
The signs are obvious — daily phone calls, visits to her apartment, her name
being brought up in our conversation, etc. Last week, Dianne and Kristin went
backpacking by themselves to the local wilderness area while I kept our two
kids at home (it is important for my wife, a financial planner, to get away
from the daily grind and enjoy her friends apart from me)….

Last Friday, Dianne called me up and wanted me to meet her for lunch at
our favorite restaurant. After a light lunch with some equally light but
strangely forced conversation, Dianne looked into my eyes with a look that
I’ve never seen before, a look of fear combined with a look of desire, and
asked, “Mark, it is difficult for me to say this, but I have fallen in love
with both you and Kristin.”

I didn’t know how to respond to this. On the one hand, my sexual desire
for her was burning bright, and I got excited about what was soon to
transpire, yet her simultaneous love for my wife confused, scared, and
intrigued me. What could I say? I looked at her for a moment, and without
thinking I said, “Does Kristin know your feelings for her? As far as I know,
Kristin is straight, and has never in our relationship stated anything to the
contrary. All I know is that my desire for you is very strong, and that I
have wanted for several weeks to make love to you.”

“I know about your feelings for me,” Dianne replied, “I could see it in
your actions, in your words, and in your eyes. And my feelings for you are
just as strong. Kristin knows about my love for her and for you, and she is
in love with me as she is in love with you. It was during our backpacking
trip that we expressed our love for one another.”

I didn’t know what to think, I was really confused by my feelings. “But
why are you telling me this? What do you want from me if you and Kristin are
lovers?” I asked.

Dianne replied, “Kristin wanted me to tell you these things if I felt
from our conversation that it would not damage your marriage relationship –
she wants me to tell you that she still loves you deeply. She has known for
awhile that you were infatuated with me. You know, women can see these
things. I desire you so much and I want to make love to you. Let’s go back
to my apartment and there we can enjoy one another and talk more about this
crazy situation.”

Making love to Dianne that afternoon was heavenly. Her body, though
short, was well proportioned, more like a 21 year old rather than her real age
of 35. Her breasts were not large, and not small, but were of the right size,
firm and did not sag one bit — taking her brassiere off, which was a low-cut
front snap design, was an experience I’ll never forget. When I cupped her
breasts in my smallish hands, I wished that I could become her brassiere so I
could cup her breasts all day. And Dianne was sexually free, boy, was she
free. She was even more open about her sexuality than Kristin, and Kristin
has always been a tiger in bed.

What was even more surprising to me was that my sexual excitement was
greatest whenever I fantasized my wife Kristin making love to Dianne while I
was watching. In these fantasies, Kristin and Dianne totally shared their
bodies — there was no inhibition of any kind. The number 69 appeared often
in my mind. And I imagined my throbbing, erect penis being inside Dianne’s
vagina from the rear, while Kristin, my beautiful wife, was in front massaging
Dianne’s clitoris and sucking on her breasts, and that Dianne was massaging
Kristin’s swollen clitoris. And I imagined that we all came to orgasm at the
same time this way. What a fantasy!

After one hour of sheer erotic sex (I have never made love to a woman
who could have several strong orgasms in a row like Dianne could), we lay
together exhausted. I asked Dianne, “When did you and Kristin first make
love?”

She said, “During our backpacking trip. It was cold, and we were close
to each other in our sleeping bags. And we just talked, and slowly we got
closer, more intimate, touched each other more, and finally we were making
love. Kristin said to me afterwards that that was the first time she ever had
sex with a woman. She never consciously realized before that she was
bisexual, although she said that she recalled having strong feelings for other
women before. Her greatest fear was that you would reject her for being
bisexual and for making love to me.”

I said, “If she made love to a man, I would have been jealous and a
little angry — I’m sounding a little hypocritical here — but the thought of
her making love to another woman, especially you, excites me, and I don’t know
why. Maybe most men would be turned off and very angry if they were faced
with this situation, but I’m not. I really would like to watch you and
Kristin make love and I want to share in your lovemaking, for I want Kristin
to be happy and I know that you and I can sexually fulfill her in ways that I
cannot alone.” Dianne smiled, hugged me, gave me a dreamy kiss, and said, “I
would like that. I love you. And tell Kristin when you see her that I love
her, too.”

When I came home in the evening, it was, suffice to say, a very unusual
conversation. I told Kristin that I was with Dianne that afternoon, that we
made love, that I knew about Kristin’s love affair with Dianne, that I am not
angry or jealous, that I loved both of you, and that I would like all three of
us to make love to one another. Kristin was quite taken aback by what I said,
but she quickly recovered with a look of anticipation and desire that I have
never seen in her before. Kristin then said, “Let’s send the kids to my
mother’s for the weekend, I’ll think of a good excuse, and invite Dianne to
stay with us.” I agreed to this, we called Dianne, she readily agreed and we
were all excited. Needless to say Kristin and I made passionate love that
evening and we later talked very openly about the different ways we could make
love together with Dianne.

….Watching two passionate women, who love each other, mutually gratify
their sexual desires is something that every man should see — and I’m not
talking about those loveless scenes one sees in most X-rated films. Men can
learn an awful lot about how to please a woman sexually by watching how a
woman does it to another woman. After all, who knows more about a woman than
another woman?…

Kristin and Dianne were obviously very much in love with each other.
You could feel the passionate heat they generated even before they touched
each other. They made me sit in a chair while I watched them in bed. They
each wore a negligee, and I could see the outlines of their breasts and of
their black triangle of hair where female sexuality resides. They obviously
loved the way they were dressed, since they looked at each other just as I was
looking at them. They started with slow kisses, which became more passionate
as time went on — it seemed like an eternity. Their hands, which started out
being fixed on each others back, became more and more mobile. There was no
part of their bodies that their hands did not touch. Kristin, my beautiful
wife, was gasping at every caress given by Dianne. Dianne, being very turned
on by now, loosened Kristin’s negligee and took it off, gloriously revealing
Kristin’s body to both of us. “Your breasts are so beautiful,” Dianne said,
“please let me kiss them.” Kristin pulled Dianne’s head to her breasts and
moaned “more” as Dianne eagerly yet tenderly licked them.

Dianne then broke the kisses, got on her back, and told Kristin, who was
sitting upright on her knees, to move forward until her vulva was near
Dianne’s mouth, as she has done for me several times. Dianne eagerly thrust
out her tongue to Kristin’s moist clitoris, and licked and kissed and sucked
it in a way I’ve never done for Kristin before. You could see Kristin’s body
slowly swaying, like a pendulum, which started to speed up as Dianne speeded
up her tongue motion. Then, in a frantic way that I have never heard Kristin
say, she said, “Please… more.” At that moment, Dianne inserted one finger
into Kristin’s vagina and another finger from the other hand into her anus and
began to earnestly and rhythmically bring her down the home stretch with her
tongue and lips and fingers. Kristin exploded into a orgasm that I have never
seen in any woman before, even Dianne on Friday. She gasped and fell limp on
the bed, exhausted, and content. I was in awe.

As Dianne was slowly caressing Kristin during her short time of
recovery, my passion arose to a height I’ve never felt before. I walked over
to the bed, took my clothes off (so I could relieve the pressure of my
super-erect penis) and got on the bed next to Dianne and started to kiss her.
I helped Dianne take off her negligee, revealing her beautiful breasts with
very hard and erect nipples; I could feel the animal heat emanate from her
vagina, begging for satisfaction. She then took hold of my very hard penis
and began to rub it firmly, and then went down on me and began to lick and
suck it. I could feel the moistness around her mouth, no doubt from Kristin’s
vaginal juices. Dianne then completely inserted my penis into her mouth as
far as it could go and really began to suck. It was a beautiful experience.
As I approached an explosive orgasm, but before it was too late, she let go of
my penis, leaned back on the bed, with her beautiful breasts pointing
majestically upward, and begged Kristin to come down on her.

Kristin, whose passion was beginning to come back again, got on her
hands and knees and began to lick Dianne’s clitoris with her tongue. Kristin,
being very flexible, had no trouble with this position. Kristin’s
super-swollen vulva revealed itself to me in all its splendor in this
position, which I could not resist; I entered Kristin from the rear, reached
around her to massage her swollen and moist clitoris and her erect nipples.
When I did this, my wife began to moan, and increased her tempo on Dianne.
Dianne began to moan wildly, too, and Kristin reached up to cup Dianne’s
breast and knead them vigorously. For one minute this went on, and as I
approached ejaculation, Kristin sensed that, quickened the pace, and brought
Dianne closer to ecstasy. We all reached climax at about the same time. My
orgasm was the most intense I have ever experienced. I felt as if I filled
Kristin up to the brim.

This did not end here. Kristin continued her oral caress on Dianne’s
clitoris in the most loving, tender, and yet vigorous manner, and from this
very delicious stimulus, Dianne had four more orgasms in the next few minutes;
each orgasm was more intense than the previous one. Her last orgasm was so
intense and obviously so pleasurable that Kristin broke down and cried for
Dianne in happiness. We all then fell into a long and dreamy sleep, snuggling
close together, to recharge for another round several hours later (I’ll spare
you the details of our subsequent lovemaking, except that it was even better).

Many would say that nothing good could ever result from a bisexual
menage a trois such as ours; however, Kristin’s and my love for each other was
enhanced by this experience (which, by the way, never happened again with
Dianne, for reasons that will remain unsaid to the outside world). I also
learned how to become a better lover to Kristin, since my teachers were two
beautiful women who passionately loved one another and understood one another
in ways that men can never fathom.