After the trash was picked up they both sat back and looked at
each other. “Would that it was the way it was,” noted Sandy with
down-cast eyes.

The drive to the marina is only about half an hour, but seems to take
forever. We even have a few near misses when my attention drifts from
the road’s hazards to your charms, but we eventually arrive safely to
find my uncle’s boat right where he promised it would be. It starts
up on the first try, powerful engine roaring, and we skim out over the
water, leaving a trail of churned white foam behind us.

Soon we are out on the open sea, bouncing across the waves. Here,
where there is nothing to hit, I’m paying more attention to you than
to the boat. You are teasingly shifting in the seat to make your
skirt slide higher up your thighs, and leaning over to examine the
dashboard, not incidentally giving me glimpses of your tanned tits
sliding inside your blouse. All of this is giving me a monumental
hard-on, a detail that has not escaped your notice. We spend the
entire hour making each other hotter and hotter without a single
touch. By the time we reach the secluded cove on the back side of
Catalina, both of us are fantastically horny.

I run the boat up to the shore, and help you out – not missing the
chance to caress your soft breast and give the stiff nipple a quick
squeeze. Handing you the blanket, I grab the paper bag and ice chest
that hold our provisions, and we walk up the shore several yards to a
grassy little area overhung by shady trees. You spread out the
blanket and barely have it on the ground before I am holding you
tightly, my hands squeezing your bottom, my groin rubbing against your
belly, and my mouth locked to yours, tounges writhing and twisting
together. Our embrace lasts for several minutes, just holding each
other close and kissing hotly. Finally I raise my head and say,
“Shall we eat?”

Our clothes drop off quickly – I actually pop the button off my shorts
in my haste to get them off. We hold each other again, enjoying the
sensation of skin against skin. My cock is trapped between our
bodies, and you can feel it throbbing against you. I move gently
against you, feeling your soft breasts crushed against my chest, the
hard nipples standing out like bullets. I lift you in my arms,
carrying you across the grass to the blanket, where I lay you down.
Reaching into the ice chest, I pull out a glass and a bottle of
champagne.

I hand you the filled glass, and with a wide smile kneel between your
legs with the bottle. I hold it over your smooth crotch and begin
pouring a slow trickle down, licking it up as it runs through your
pussy. The combination of the champagne and your own juice is
delicious, and I lap rapidly at your cunt trying to catch it all. You
are feeling incredible sensations, as the champagne tickles your
sensitive pussy and I voraciously lick you. The champagne in your
glass is not going to waste – dipping your fingers in it, you rub it
on your nipples, which are quickly becoming as hot as your crotch. I
begin concentrating on your erect little clit, and the pleasure grows.
You know that orgasm is not far away.

Then I abruptly set the bottle down and reach for the chest again,
this time pulling out a bunch of grapes. Leaning back over you, I
lick quickly at one champagne-flavored nipple and exchange a kiss
before moving back down between your legs. Spreading and stroking
your cunt, I begin pushing the grapes inside, one by one. Finally,
they are all inside, and once again I place my mouth over your crotch,
sucking them out. As each pops out and into my mouth, new shivers of
excitement shoot through you, culminating at last in a raging,
explosive climax that almost lifts you off the blanket. Lying back
gasping for breath, you look down at my head, still buried between
your thighs.

“C’mon, I’m hungry too” you say softly as you sit up and I roll over
to take your place on the ground. My cock stands up straight, stiff
and hard, as you bring out the condiments – chocolate sauce, whipped
cream, and a cherry for the top. Soon my crotch is a mound of
chocolate and whipped cream, the cherry balanced precariously atop my
rigid cock. You waste no time in lapping up the sweet mixture, my
shaft quivering with each stroke of your tongue. A steady stream of
fluid is trickling from the swollen red head, and you lick it off,
swirling your tongue around and around the cherry still miraculously
balanced on top. Finally you slip me into your mouth, and after only
a few moments in that hot wet grip, my cock lets loose, shooting it’s
own special sauce into your throat.

Looking down at your chocolate-smeared face next to my still half-hard
rod, I fumble behind me in the bag to see if there is anything left in
our supplies. I find what I am looking for, and gently draw you up
next to me. Sliding down, tracing a trail over your body with my
tongue, I lie down again between your legs and taste your pussy. If
anything, it is wetter than before, and a slight taste of the
champagne remains. But then I take the bananna that I am holding in
my hand, and begin rubbing it up and down along the length of your
slit. You moan with pleasure, and reach down to hold your cuntlips
open, showing me your hot pink hole. The bananna slides in easily,
and you gasp as it twists inside you. Leaving it buried inside, I
lick and nibble your clit for several minutes before pulling it out
again with my teeth, eating it as it emerges from you.

When it is gone, your body is hotter than you can ever remember it
being. You are desperate to come, your body straining for climax.
Your fingers are rubbing and digging at your clit, and you beg me to
make you come. “We’re out of banannas – I guess this will have to do”
I chuckle, and shove my hard cock all the way inside you. Your scream
and my shout at the sensation emerge at the same time, and for a
moment I hold still inside you while we enjoy it. Then I roll
sideways and pull you close, our sweaty bodies sliding together as my
cock slides in and out of your quivering pussy. Our hands are roaming
over each others’ bodies, stroking, squeezing, caressing, and we are
kissing hotly, trying to devour each other with our lips and tongues.
Your climax is first, even more violent than the last, and as your
body shakes and quivers my release is triggered. For long moments we
are held in ecstasy, rolling and bucking on the ground together.

We finally catch our breath, and lean together against a tree, you
sitting with your back to me between my spread legs, with my arms
around your waist and hands idly stroking your belly. You turn your
head and laugh as you say “Hey, you want to go into town and get
something to eat?”

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.