Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 10

Technology and Medicine.

Advancements can be good and bad.

Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

I was standing in front of another of Lucy’s works, 'The Girls', trying to decide which element was Marie when I felt an arm slide around my waist. I looked to find my favorite artist alongside me. I bent down, intending to kiss her forehead but she had other ideas. Her arm snaked around my neck and pulled me into a full on passionate kiss. Marie looked on from across the gallery, amused.

"There," Lucy said, sounding slightly frustrated. "I suppose that will have to keep me going until Wednesday." She strode off to talk to my wife.

Jen, who had been admiring the work next to me gave me an old fashioned look. "I'm definitely not going to ask, but if you ever feel the need to explain?"

"I'm not sure that I can," I admitted. "If you really want to know, then ask the artist," I pointed to Lucy, still chatting to my wife. "to explain the meaning behind that work." I pointed to the one I'd found so compelling. "Be sure to tell her who you and Peter are first though."

I moved on. Now that I'd realized the symbolism behind the older paintings, I found the dystopian themes of an abusive marriage disturbing. Great for a goth student bedsit. Not for our living room. I loved the other stuff though, and tried to find one that was still for sale.

I found my wife examining some of the other artists' works on display. Even to my untrained eyes, none were in the same league as Lucy's. I put my arm around Marie's waist and kissed her cheek. "Hi. I'm an artist's muse. Fancy a coffee? If I ever get any etchings you'll be the first to get an invitation to come up and see them."

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she protested. "You're wearing a wedding ring."

"It's fine. My wife is a beautiful, successful, confident woman. She knows that I'd never abandon her for an art gallery groupie.

She checked her watch. Yes, we're both that old. "Well this groupie wants her caffeine fix, and you're paying. Let's round the others up and we'll go. I'll see if Lucy wants to join us too."

She did, and fifteen minutes later found the five of us round a table in our favorite little café. Lucy was fascinated by pictures of First Nation art that Peter had taken in Toronto. I could see her absorbing the way the indigenous artists portrayed movement and space. I suspected that a disentangled Lucy might be open to expanding her geographical horizons shortly.

Then Jen asked about 'that' picture, Friday, four thirty. Lucy looked to me and then Marie. "They know," she said quietly. "It was the day and time of my release." Marie and I both saw the double entendre, even if Lucy didn't intend it.

Lucy looked at my wife, who just smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath. "My husband has changed. He drinks, gambles and lies to me. He treated me like his whore for a while but at least I got laid. Now he can't even have sex with me. He blamed me for being too old and wrinkly, you know, down there, to be sexually attractive." Jen gasped in surprise. Today Lucy was wearing heels, a mid-thigh skirt and a blouse that only just hinted at uncontained tits beneath it. In short, she was a knockout.

Our son looked at her in disbelief. "Your husband says that You are the reason he can't get it up?" Lucy nodded. "Then the man's an idiot," Peter concluded.

"But what does that have to do with the painting?" Jen asked, still confused.

Glancing at me, Lucy explained. "I told Geoff, in the pub, what Eddie had said when he rejected me: 'Who'd want to stick their cock in a wrinkly old snatch like yours?' And Geoff told me to show him and he would tell me, honestly, if it was true. So I did; I showed him. He told me that my snatch was perfect and then he touched it. And he cuddled me, and I came. All my best friends were there and they saw me have the best orgasm I can remember, just sitting on Geoff's lap as he touched me. That happened one Friday at four thirty. That's what I painted."

Jen stared open mouthed for a full minute as she unpacked Lucy's story. "Jesus!" She eventually exclaimed, "I'm going to the wrong pubs."

"Lucy omitted to tell you we were with a small group of friends in a private room," Marie explained.

"Then I need new friends," Jen decided out loud. Peter just laughed.

He looked at me. "In a way, I can understand. She was hurting. You knew it wasn't her fault. You did what you needed to do to make it better. Weren't you worried that mum would;” He stopped in mid-sentence. "But she was there; wasn't she? She could have stopped you. But she didn't because;” He thought it through. "Because she doesn't care. No! That's the wrong word. She does care about you and her friends but she isn't threatened by Angie or Lucy so she just didn't mind."

Jen broke in. "That explains the kiss in the gallery. You were aiming for a platonic kiss and Lucy turned it into a full-on lip-smacker. But I saw Marie had seen you and wasn't a bit bothered. I did wonder."

My wife added her contribution. "I didn't want to have to tell him, but I suppose he ought to know: it's his super-power. He just likes women; not lusts after, he just genuinely likes them, and most women respond. He's so used to it that he's never really noticed. For example; when we went to any of his company's staff parties, leaving do's or awards nights, all his female colleagues would hug him. No-one else really, just him. Not 'making a point in front of his wife' hugs, just real affection. So, when Lucy was sad, he had to help. It took nothing from me and he made my friend happy. It was actually quite moving."

I find, at times like this, silence is an effective strategy. Apparently, Lucy doesn't. "My husband had rejected me," she said, wistfully. "My friends were there for me, but Geoff just held me. He treated me like a person. Not damaged, but lied to. He showed me that I was still desirable, but not in a predatory way. I fell in love with him then."

I admit to being a little taken aback, even though Marie had told me how much Lucy, and the others, had appreciated what I'd done. But looking at Lucy, I couldn't reject her the way that Eddie had. I reached across the table for her hand. "I love you too, Lucy," I told her, truthfully. She squeezed my hand and smiled in reply

"Bloody Hell, mum." Peter laughed. "Just how many of your friends has he worked his super-power on?"

Marie looked thoughtful. "Well, Angie and Lucy obviously, there's Jo and Samantha, not Kate so much, or Megan; probably Sue and Margie and of course Jane." She looked at me for confirmation. That sounded about right. "That would be seven then," she concluded.

Jen and Peter shared a stunned look. Our son recovered first. "I have so many questions that I honestly don't know where to start.

Jen butted in. "I've no idea who these women are, but why not Kate and Megan?"

Marie looked at me for support. I just held my hands up. After all, I'm only the empath with a cock. My wife replied thus, "Well, Kate admitted that while she really enjoyed the spooning afterwards, mainly it was the sex that made her day rather than romance; and Megan's already happily married."

Peter was struggling to catch up. "You mean you've actually had sex with all seven of these women?"

"Not exactly," I protested. "I've only touched Lucy that once and I've done nothing with Jane."

"You kissed her in the sex shop," Marie pointed out, unhelpfully to my way of thinking. "And again in the car when you dropped her off at home. I think you suggested that it was to give her some motivation when she tried out the polyurethane cock you bought for her." I cringed at the look Peter gave me.

"Oh, yes." added Lucy as I winced in anticipation at whatever she was going to contribute next. "I've already agreed to do a cast of his thingy so that Jane can have a full size replica. We thought a signed limited edition run would be fun. I'll definitely want one too. I can make the initial mold when it's my turn on Wednesday." She squeezed my hand. "I could feel it in your pants when I sat on your lap. I can't wait to actually see it," she added, excitedly.

I looked up and noticed the café was starting to fill up. So far no-one appeared to have noticed the bizarre conversation at our table but that was unlikely to continue, so I suggested that we leave before we were evicted. Of course, Pete and Jen needed to see the painting again, now that they understood its genesis, so we trooped back to the gallery, the younger couple giving me odd sideways glances when they thought I wasn't looking. I sighed. There would be more questions tonight.

The questions, of course, started much earlier than that. As we walked back home Peter strolled alongside me while Marie dropped back to keep Jen company.

"Is this a kind of mid-life crisis?" he asked.

"I hope so," I replied. "That would mean that I'd survive to about a hundred and thirty or so."

"But dad: eight women."

"Peter. This wasn't my idea. I'd never cheat on your mum so, when she suggested that we do this, I refused. I can't deny that they are lovely women, each different in their own way, but I refused because I was convinced this insane idea could wreck our marriage."

Our son didn't look convinced.

I continued. "Look. There are things that I can't tell you; personal things that the girls shared with each other and then with me. It broke your mum's heart to compare their lives with hers. But the one thing that was missing for all of them was sex. They don't expect it every night; just often enough to reassure them that they're still sexual beings. But they are independent too; Megan being a special case. They didn't want to accommodate to new partners sharing their lives and their beds, so your mum came up with this idea."

"And you get to have sex with them all," Peter observed. "Isn't mum going to get jealous eventually?"

"Do you think that never occurred to me?" I replied. "We think we've found a solution. Ask your mum if you really need to know. But." I stopped walking and turned to him. "I truly don't regret what we have done. If, at some time in the future I realize this was what ended our marriage, that will be the time for regret. But you were there; you heard Lucy's story; you saw the painting that our shared experience inspired in her. Do you want me to wish that had never happened? That she stayed with that drunken, abusive idiot? Because now I guarantee she will have moved out before this year is over. Because another man, one that actually cared about her, told her the truth. She's lovely and she deserves to be happy and I'm glad that your mum was selfless enough to make that happen." I took a deep breath. I wasn't angry at Peter, but my passionate outburst surprised even me.

By now Marie and Jen had caught up with us. "Thank you darling." Marie took my hand and kissed it. "After all of your fretting, I'm glad that you finally understand how much you've helped my friends already." She addressed Peter and Jen. "We weren't sure whether to share the whole story with you, but Linda knows, and you accepted Angie so readily that it seemed only fair that you should know too."

We started walking again. Jen spoke next. "I'm sorry if this sounds judgmental, Marie, but I can't imagine knowing that Peter was sleeping with one of my friends. I think it would destroy me."

"Oh, I understand, dear," my wife replied gently. "I would have felt the same at your age. Geoffrey still does." She squeezed my hand affectionately. "But you have to realize; these aren't just casual acquaintances. These women, 'the girls', are my closest friends; almost family. Seeing Geoff with them doesn't threaten me. It's beautiful. Watching them respond to my man, knowing the pleasure they are feeling but never, for a second, believing that they would try to steal my husband or that he would abandon me for one of them."

"But you said one of the other women was happily married?" Jen reminded us. I decided to let my wife take that one.

"She is," Marie replied, her eyes filling up. "To a really wonderful man too." She glanced at Jen. "He knows and approves of his wife's visits but, again, he knows she won't leave him for Geoff. But that's all I'm prepared to say; and that's probably too much."

We carried on walking, closer together, as my wife continued. "Perhaps I can explain it like this." She sighed. "Imagine you are struggling to cope financially; you see family and friends in the same straits. But you can't afford to share what little you have. That's how fidelity felt when we were younger. Other women threatened my security." She lifted my hand in hers and pressed it to her tit. "But now, I feel secure. It's as though your dad represents stability rather than a potential loss. The women he's with aren't taking anything from me; it's more like they are just guests at our table. They arrive, we chat, they dine and, at the end of the evening, they leave, content. We all cherish the time together and I've lost nothing." She looked intently at Jen. "Does that make sense?"

"When you say that you all cherish your time together;” Jen ventured. Peter seemed reluctant to hear his mum's reply.

"Yes, that was our solution. Geoff, quite understandably, had no interest in sharing me with his male friends, and nor will I ever ask, but he was probably correct about one thing: I don't think that I would have been able to cope with him sleeping with my friends while I sat alone. So we share. Sometimes in the same bed, sometimes in separate rooms." She gave one of her brilliant smiles. "I'd forgotten just how good it felt to be with another woman."

Peter groaned. "So it's not just Angela then, mum?"

"No," she replied brightly. "In fact, Angie's a special case. We've decided that, as our betrothed, either of us can have sex with her whenever we want. With the others it always has to be as part of our regular evenings when we share." She giggled. "We call them our language classes."

The rest of the walk home was subdued. Peter and Jen walked together talking quietly while Marie and I cheerfully discussed taking them out for a meal that evening.

We picked up some farmhouse bread and a selection of cheeses from the deli on the way home for a quick and simple lunch. As we settled around the kitchen table Peter asked if he could add one observation to the chat we'd had walking home. We agreed, of course.

"Jen and I discussed what you'd told us, and we're honored that you trusted us to be open. You're my parents and I love you and Jen loves you both too. What you are doing sounds insane but, dad made it obvious you haven't done this lightly, on a whim. And, more than anything, Lucy's story really touched the pair of us. So, while I have no plans to follow in your footsteps, dad, Jen and I both pray that we are as secure in our love for each other at your age as you two obviously are."

Marie reached across and touched both of their hands. "Thank you, both of you, for not judging us. We love you too," she told them, sincerely. I stood and walked round the table pulling Pete up for a man hug, finding that Jen was stood waiting for her turn when we'd finished.

We spent most of the afternoon chatting about Canada and how much they had enjoyed their time there. By the time I got back from collecting Colin from school, Angie had returned and was sitting on the sofa talking to Jen.

"Grandad. Mum knows about Aunty Angela doesn't she?" He asked as we walked through the front door.

"Yes. She was surprised at first, but she seems okay with it now," I told him. His face lit up with mischief.

"Hi Uncle Pete, Aunty Jen, grandma." He called, walking in from the hall. He gave a wicked grin. "Hi Grangie," he yelled, throwing himself onto her lap. She hugged him, stunned at first by her new title, then burst into tears.

"Bloody Hell," I heard Peter mutter. "Dad's super-power seems to have skipped a generation. But Colin's definitely got it."

"It hasn't skipped anything," Jen whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. "You have it too. Your only problem is that I'm not the woman your mum is." I resolved to speak to Marie about that. Peter does take after me in build, and male pattern hair loss and yes, we share nerdy interests. But Jen is a wonderful woman. She is intelligent, elegant, attractive rather than classically beautiful and with a warm personality that fills the room. I love her like one of my own and I won't have her belittle herself like that.

I stood and watched as Colin reassured himself that 'Grangie' was crying happy tears, thinking to myself that the little charmer was probably more likely to get an Aston Martin than I was. Good for him. He'd probably deserve it too.

I packed him off to do his homework: Photosynthesis tonight. He showed me his worksheet. His task was to use the words in the box to fill the gaps in the description of the process. He went through it as we talked, noticing that Carbon Monoxide was in there as a trap for the unwary. He was back in ten minutes and straight into deep discussion with his uncle.

I gestured to Marie to follow me into the kitchen and told her what Jen had said. "Silly girl," my wife said. "She's perfect for Peter. Bullying my husband into screwing my mates hardly qualifies me as a role model for women in general." Her voice softened. "She's right though about one thing; Peter is a lot like you were at his age. The lucky girl." Marie kissed me gently on the lips and went back to our guests.

I couldn't be bothered to start cooking that afternoon so I sent a text to Linda to meet us at the pub at half past five and I'd treat us all to a bar meal, but she replied to say that she would come straight to ours so we would only need two cars. That's a logistics planner at work.

We had just finished off our meals when two young people greeted us. It was Adrian and Emily. She noticed me glancing at her neck and shook her head, smiling. Tonight she was here as his girlfriend, not his submissive sex slave.

Adrian explained that they had waited until we'd finished eating but would understand if we felt that they were still intruding on a family moment. When we explained to Peter and Jen that our two young friends were part of our wedding planning team; they were keen for them to join us.

Emily sat with Marie and Peter to talk about fabricating some lightweight body armor for my wife's costume. Colin joined them; partly as a fan of the Mandalorian, partly because I think he had an instant crush on Emily.

Meanwhile, Angie and Jen were in deep discussion with Adrian about their own costumes. In both groups phones were brandished, numbers exchanged and images shared. I saw Adrian examine one picture quite closely, look over at me thoughtfully and smile. Linda, who was sitting next to me, was intrigued. "What was that?"

"Well, love. As far as I can tell, my outfit selection has been approved. Have you and Mike discussed costumes? I did tell you it was a Star Wars themed celebration."

She shrugged dismissively. "We'll pop into that fancy-dress shop in town. They'll have something that will do.

"Not a chance," I told her. I leant across the table to check something with Marie and then turned back to my daughter. I showed her a picture of Bo Katan, my wife's character, on my phone. "This will be your mum's outfit. She'd like you to wear something similar, as her supporter."

"Where the hell will I find something like that?" She exclaimed.

I pointed across the table. "Adrian's actually in his second year of a costume design course. Angie has agreed to underwrite all the materials costs for our ceremony so he's been able to persuade several of his course mates to take part because we have a range of amazing outfits for them to design and create but at no cost to them." I patted Linda's hand. "Tell Mike to pick anything he thinks looks cool, subject to some constraints; No bad guys and full face coverings and masks are probably impractical. Other than that, we'll get him measured for whatever takes his fancy."

"X-Wing pilot."

"What?" I didn't see that coming.

"Obviously, I'll ask him but I'm absolutely sure that's what he'll choose." Linda seemed very certain. "Does it meet your criteria?"

I considered. Simple, colorful flight-suit and a helmet. "If that's what he wants, I'm sure it will be fine. Can Colin and Mia choose their own outfits or do you want to be involved?"

"Mia's invited?" She seemed surprised.

"Colin asked if he could bring a guest and I think that Emily," I nodded across the table to where he was gazing at her, rapt, as she compared notes with Marie. "Well, she's already spoken for and possibly a little old for him."

She chuckled quietly. "Dad, will you give him 'the talk' sometime soon? Mike and I have only been an item for a couple of years. Colin accepts him as my boyfriend; even as a pal, but not a surrogate dad. It's not his place and I think they'd both be uncomfortable."

"Of course, sweetheart. I'll sit down with him and we'll find a pace that suits us both. Now, their costumes?"

"No. He's thirteen and I trust his judgement. I know he has to get your approval anyway. Let them pick their own. Just, for Christ's sake, don't let the thirteen year old girl go with the bra-less Princess Leia dress."

"Ouch. That's definitely not going to happen," I agreed.

We tuned back into the rest of the conversations around the table and I decided to get another round in. It looked like this session could go on a good while longer.

In the end, it was Linda and Colin's departure at about eight thirty that broke things up. Colin was glowing as Emily gave him an innocent peck on the cheek in recognition of his sensible suggestions. I'd chat to him the next day about what costumes he and Mia wanted.

Once at home, we put the TV news on in the background. I didn't pay much attention though. I wish we could find a political system that worked. It just seems that, no matter how the government comes about, it always seems to have a bunch of useless wankers at the top. It was much more life affirming to sit with my two women as my son and his lovely partner chatted about their travels. But, by ten thirty we were all getting weary so we decided to call it a night. By now Peter and Jen thought nothing of Angie joining Marie and me in our bed.

Angie and I decided that it was our turn to focus on my wife that evening and we worked, more quietly than usual, to deliver two orgasms; one courtesy of Angie's tongue dipping in and out of her friend's cunt while I kissed, massaged and otherwise worshipped Marie's adorable boobs; the other as I slid in and out of her from behind while they kissed and stroked each other face to face. As she came down from her second climax she relaxed into the pair of us as we just held her close. "Love you, Marie," I whispered as she dozed off.

"Me too babe," added Angie. I hadn't taken an erection enhancer that night, so I was surprised the find myself getting hard again not ten minutes later, while Angie and I cuddled up together. "Ooh! Lucky Angela," she grinned, stroking me gently. "Can I ride you Geoff? To just quietly and gently bring us both off?"

I kissed her. "Whatever you need. I get to come again and watching you is pleasure enough anyway. Love you Angie."

She mounted me, straddling my hips, facing me. She reached back and slipped my cock inside her. Pleasuring Marie had obviously aroused her as I slid straight in. She gazed into my eyes in the dim light of the bedside lamp as her vulva drew figures of eight on my groin. I contributed by using my right hand to tease her clit while my left caressed her tits, swapping between them as she worked. All too soon, her rhythm started to go. "Some help here," she pleaded. "I'm not sure I can keep focused."

I pulled her down into a kiss as I took over thrusting upwards into her cunt. The position we were in ensured that the root of my cock brushed her clit with every stroke. I'd already ejaculated once into my wife, so this time wasn't so urgent for me. Eventually, though, I could feel the tension rising within me. "Soon Angie," I warned her.

"So close," she moaned. "Please just;” I tried to hold back but I needed to keep going. "Oh, it feels like;”

I speeded up. There was no merit in edging now; we both needed to come. I surrendered first but, as I tried to keep going after pumping my sperm deep inside her, I could sense her vaginal muscles rippling around my length. I gave two more deep thrusts before my erection began to subside and my lover collapsed on top of me. I thought, as we gave each other one last kiss before we dozed, "What did I do to deserve such luck?" Then I realized. I'd asked the cute, stacked, language graduate lying next to us to marry me. Smartest move I'd ever made.

Everybody seemed to have a morning-after glow over breakfast next day. "Sleep well?" I asked Peter and Jen, grinning at them over my cereal.

Peter looked uncomfortable. Jen less so. "To be honest, Geoff," she said. "Since we arrived, pretty much every conversation that hasn't been about Canada has been about your ceremony or sex. And even your celebration is about you, Marie and Angela having sex. So you'll excuse me if I don't apologize for being so horny that I tried to bang your son's brains out last night."

"We never heard you," Angie broke in. "So don't feel embarrassed. We all had a lovely session ourselves too. Marie missed the second act 'cos she was orgasmed out."

"For goodness sake, Angie!" Peter groaned. "Jen; really, did you both need to share that?"

Marie joined in. "We are happy to limit our talks about love and affection in front of Colin because he's only thirteen. But you two are old enough to acknowledge that mum and dad have sex." She shook her head. "You were both allowed to share a bed in our home when you were first dating. We understood that you were a couple in a sexual relationship then, and you still are now. Why dance around the topic?"

She reached across to hold Jen's hand. "Geoff is starting to understand and appreciate how women think about sex. Peter is his father's son. Talk to him. Tell him your fantasies, what you like. Ask him his. If they are a step too far, like our sharing, then role play. But enjoy each other." She looked wistfully across the table. We could have brought Ange to our bed years ago, when she had no-one, and who would it have hurt?"

"Maybe we just weren't ready, babe," Angie consoled her. "But we're here now, so don't let what might have been detract from that."

Peter was quiet for a moment; I worried that we'd overstepped a boundary. "No," he said, slowly. "I apologize. You are right. I don't want to do what dad is doing because, just now, it would hurt Jen and make her feel insecure. Equally, I don't want to share her either. But if, at some point, we were in your position, I would want to know that Jen could at least be honest with me: not be afraid to tell me how she felt."

"See." My wife smiled proudly at her son. "It didn't skip a generation. He's just as smart as his dad."

Jen leant over to whisper between Marie and Angie. I didn't entirely catch what she said but the words, 'good', 'bed' and 'too' seemed to be in there.

The three women disappeared while Peter and I tidied the kitchen, returning ten minutes later with bundles of bed linens for the wash. Of course! It was Wednesday; Lucy and Angie's turn to attend our language class. I wasn't sure how we'd schedule tonight, given that Ange was already a regular in our bed. Doubtless I'd find out in due course.

Anyway, Peter and Jen were setting off for home. It was only a two hour drive or so but they wanted to get there before lunch to get their house sorted before the prospect of returning to work raised its ugly head. We waved them off, promising to keep them up to date on our wedding plans. That being how we'd agreed to refer to our joining in future.

The house seemed empty as we walked back inside but there was plenty to do before our guest (note the singular) arrived. "Ladies," I asked as we began some overdue housework. "How will tonight work? It's Lucy and Angie's turn tonight but it seems odd treating Angie like all the other girls now. Should we just go with the flow?"

"I know," Marie mused. "It does feel different now, somehow. Let's ask Lucy how she wants to play."

Angie agreed so, that decided, we divided up the jobs and set to work. By one o'clock, the house was immaculate, the beds in the three rooms we were using; ours, the playroom and Angie's room were all freshly made and the toys were cleaned and sanitized, but locked away until Colin and Linda had left. We had a light lunch and decided to take an afternoon stroll to the deli together to find something for teatime. They had some nice Toulouse sausage that was begging to be made into a cassoulet and so the decision was made for us.

Marie phoned Lucy as we wandered back with our purchases, (well, you can't just buy one item, can you?) and invited her to join us for our evening meal. Apparently, Wednesdays, Eddie had decided, were now his regular darts night at the Fox and Hounds and so Lucy had the evening to herself, again. I resolved to give that some thought.

The girls (apologies to any feminists, but this is the label they chose for themselves) helped prep the garlic, carrots, onions and tomatoes while I blitzed some bread into breadcrumbs and grabbed some wine, beans and herbs. A little bit of frying in olive oil and then everything except the bread went into the pot and in the oven. The girls went to find the next episode of our Star Wars saga while I made a call.

"Mike? Yes, it's Geoff. How is your new living arrangement going?"

"Really? I'm so relieved. Yes, Marie and I were worried that your wife might actually find that the reality of sharing you with her sister in law wasn't the same as the fantasy."

"Oh! Wow. No, I'm only using the erection enhancer once or twice a week. Careful; at that rate it might just drop off."

"Yes, Angie's fine too. Actually, We're formalizing our relationship with a private celebration. Would you and your ladies like to join us? Great. I'll let you have the details once they're settled."

"Now. Do you know anyone who drinks in the Fox and Hounds? I need a spy in there, tonight if possible, next Wednesday otherwise."

"Yes, I suppose that I could be persuaded to contribute towards an evening out for you and your partners; especially after you got me onto the ED22 trial. Sixty quid for a report back on an overweight idiot called Eddie supposedly playing darts after work. Late fifties, scruffy beard, balding with a ridiculous comb-over."

"Great. Nice doing business with you. Speak tomorrow. Bye."

I joined the girls. We had time for one episode before it was time to collect Colin from school. I had a feeling that he'd want to watch another one with us too. Just in case Emily wanted to talk about it. He and I definitely needed that chat.

My suspicions were correct but an absence of homework that evening meant that watching TV wasn't a problem. As the credits rolled, I turned the set off and asked Colin to join me in the study.

"Okay Colin, your mum says that you can invite Mia to our wedding as your plus one. She also says that you and your friend can choose your own costumes but they must be age-appropriate. Can you live with that?"

"Do you mean that we can only wear clothes that children in the stories wear?" He asked.

"Not at all," I replied, thinking that it was a fair question. "You can wear any sensible costume that does not sexualize you or, more particularly, Mia. That would be inappropriate for thirteen year olds."

"I think I would like the black outfit that Luke wears when he confronts Jabba," he offered. I thought that was a reasonable choice. "And," he continued," Mia couldn't decide between Padme's white suit with the scarf cloak thingy or one of Rey's outfits."

I gave the matter some thought. "Well," I suggested after some consideration. "As long as your character doesn't mind dating his mum, you and Mia as a couple, you in black and her in white, would look quite striking. But neither of her suggestions are a problem. Choose whichever you prefer. When you've decided, send me a link and I'll forward it to Adrian." Then something else occurred to me. "Show Mia's mum first. I'm not getting dragged into a family dispute if her mum doesn't approve."

Colin thanked me and got up to leave. I bit the bullet. "One last thing."

"Yes grandad?"

"Your mum would like me to have a chat with you about sex. I've seen your biology homework on reproduction so I know that you've covered the topic in school, but she wants us to start to talk about how it affects you. Crushes, girls, bodily changes, on-line grooming, that sort of thing."

He looked a bit uncomfortable. "Do we have to?"

"Colin. I wish I'd had someone who'd be honest with me at your age. My dad was too embarrassed and, although my mother was terrified I'd bring shame on our family, she gave me absolutely no advice on how not to. I assume she spent my entire adolescence waiting for me to confess that I'd got some girl pregnant. Thankfully, one of my mates had sensible parents and he shared their guidance with me. My lot were no help at all."

"That makes sense, I suppose," he conceded.

"We'll have a chat next week. Just think of any questions that concern you at the moment and I'll answer them honestly. There are some things you don't need to bother about until you are older: we can just park them for now unless you really want to know."

"Okay," he cheered up. "Can I call Mia now?"

"Of course. Just make sure that she's being honest with her parents."

"It's just her mum. Mia never talks about her dad."

"That will probably be in your favor then. Dads are always suspicious of boys wanting to date their daughters. Go on. Scoot!"

He grinned and disappeared.

I caught up with the girls in the kitchen, to be informed that the cassoulet was doing nicely. I added the breadcrumbs in a nice thick layer over the top and followed with some more herbs and even grated hard cheese; not traditional but who's going to tell? Then the dish went back in the oven to brown.

We were setting the table and chatting when we heard the doorbell. Marie went and we heard her greeting Lucy. She was a little early but Linda was in the loop so why worry?

"Hi Geoff," she greeted me, following up with a big kiss. "Who's this?" She added, looking over my shoulder, having just removed her tongue from my mouth. Bugger! The sneaky little ninja must have crept downstairs thinking his mum had arrived.

I glossed over her over affectionate greeting. "Lucy, this is Linda's son Colin. Colin, this is grandma's friend Lucy; she's an artist. She's going to help with grandma's costume."

"Cool," he replied. Adding, "Nice to meet you," whilst giving me a rather searching stare.

"What did Mia say?" I asked, changing the subject.

"She liked the black and white idea but her mum says can she collect us from school tomorrow and let us do our homework together here while she talks to you. She says she's a little confused."

I glanced at the three girls. They shrugged. What the hell; if we were ashamed, we shouldn't do it, and Mia's mum was entitled to know who and what her daughter was mixed up with. "Of course," I acceded. "Tell her they are both welcome and we'd love them to stay for tea." I thought through some simple recipes. "Ask them if a paella would be okay. If they can't eat shellfish I can easily do something else."

Linda arrived shortly afterwards and, though obviously surprised to find Lucy there, she seemed comfortable with the situation. She and her boyfriend, Mike (no, not that one) were taking Colin to the cinema to see the latest film in the Marvel franchise, so they were dining out first. She chatted briefly with the other three women and they left; Colin reminding me that we had guests for tea the following evening and informing me that both were happy with my suggestion.

We repaired to the kitchen and served up the cassoulet, slicing the coil of sausage into bite sized pieces. I opened a bottle of Melini Chianti to go with it; I know Chianti isn't French but I'm a bit of a rebel on the quiet. We ate at the small table in the kitchen, chatting about Lucy's exhibition, a great success; our wedding, a lot of planning still to do and Lucy's marriage, still a total fucking disaster. I didn't mention my own covert interference. Well, I didn't really have anything to add to what Lucy already knew.

Marie finally moved us on to the reason for Lucy's visit. "Since we first set out our timetable," she pointed out. "Our circumstances have changed rather quickly. We initially assumed that you and Angie would be visiting us just like the other girls but the fact is that Angie has already been staying for a couple of days. So, really, we can do anything you want tonight. It only seems fair."

I sat quietly as Lucy considered. Eventually she seemed to come to a decision. "Anything?" She asked.

"Anything within our original terms and conditions," Marie clarified. "Consensual, no harm, discreet and nothing that threatens our marriage. Is that a problem?"

"No, don't think so," Lucy announced. "I'll let you decide though." She turned to address her next comment to me. "So Geoff, would you like me to be your free-use sex toy?" She looked back across the table to my wife. "Is that within the rules?"

Angie's shoulders were heaving with the giggles and Marie struggled to keep a straight face. "Well, as long as Geoff agrees, I suppose it must be. May we ask why?"

Lucy gave her question some thought before answering. "Well, it's like this. The other girls have all discussed their time with Geoff, and they all really really enjoyed it. But it seemed to me that Geoff was doing everything just for them. I want to be different and do whatever Geoff wants."

"But Lucy," I interrupted. "I'm getting to have sex with several wonderful women with my wife's approval. What part of that seems so hard? Be quiet Angela." I interjected quickly, knowing that she was about to pounce on my unfortunate choice of words.

Lucy was unrepentant. "Marie's your wife so you are probably reluctant to share your dirtiest fantasies with her, and the rest of the girls say that you go out of your way to be the lover that you think they need; Angie included." She took my face in her hands. "I am just so grateful that you showed me that I'm still a desirable woman that I'm happy to let you do whatever you want to me." She paused again to look at my wife. "Marie just told us that whatever we do has to be consensual." She stared intently into my eyes. "Geoff, in front of two witnesses I give you consent to do absolutely anything you want to me at any time you wish."

Now this might seem odd to you, sitting there reading this, but it gave me quite a conundrum. With the other girls, even with Marie, I had a goal; to make them happy, to give them orgasms. The fact that I would be touching tits, fingering cunts and having my cock in all sorts of fascinating places was a magnificent side effect that I was privileged to experience. I've said it before; I don't understand men who think that sticking their cock into a woman, pumping twice, ejaculating and walking away is a satisfying sexual experience. I take pleasure in giving pleasure, and Lucy turning the tables on me left me confused.

My wife and Angie watched on in amusement as I tried to assemble my thoughts. "But I liked pleasing the others." I bleated. Why I felt so defensive, I still can't really explain. "And Marie and now Angie have never refused me anything I've asked of them."

"But you're filtering, aren't you?" She said accusingly. "They don't refuse because you'll never ask them to do anything that you don't think they'd like." Well, that was probably true but nor would I ask Lucy. "I. Will. Do. Anything!" She all but growled at me. I looked helplessly at Marie, seeing from the smirk on her face that she was going to be no bloody help at all. I turned to Angie but she was too busy wiping tears of malicious joy from her eyes to contribute anything useful either.

I tried another tack. "But Lucy." I must have sounded like a whining kid. "I can't think of anything that I want to do to you that we can't just do anyway."

"When I get a commission," she said, in a quiet, reasoned tone. "I am like you. I need to listen to the client and deliver, in my style, the work that they asked me to produce." She looked to see if I was following. I nodded; I was with her so far. "But, when I'm producing my own work, I can follow my internal desires and express feelings locked deep inside me. That's what I want you to do and to use me as your canvas."

Marie looked intrigued now. I think that Lucy was speaking in her language rather than mine. I was used to researching materials to make jet turbine blades and the like. Expressing internal desires wasn't a particularly helpful approach; a knowledge of physics and math was generally far more useful.

"You should listen to her, Geoff." My wife surprised me with her comment. "Lucy is very different from you, even more so than me. Perhaps she can help you to access a part of yourself that you need to discover. At our age, why turn down a new opportunity like that?"

Angie agreed. "Geoff. Even though it was an accident, you found my submissive side. Why not explore yourself with Lucy's help?"

"And if I don't like what I find?" I retorted.

Of course, Marie had anticipated my concerns. "Then, my darling, all the woman that you have worked your magic on will help you deal with it, the same way that you have helped them."

I considered my situation. I had no doubt that Lucy's suggestion was sincere. Equally, I knew that neither Marie, nor Angie found it disturbing. I suspected that, from their point of view anyway, it was typical Lucy. But, at the same time, I did believe what I'd said: Marie had never denied me anything. Still, one of Lucy's arguments struck a chord. Was she right? Was I really limiting my requests to things that I was confident that my wife, or Angie, would be comfortable with?

I made my mind up. "Take few more minutes to finish your wine, ladies," I suggested. "If we're going off-piste this evening, then I would like a little more time to consider what inner desires I need to express, and how." I stood and walked to the kitchen door. "I'm going to raid the toy box and then the three of you can have the first hour and a half together in our room while I channel my inner pervert, then, after a quick drink, I'm taking Lucy to the playroom to accept her offer."

Leaving them giggling over their wine (it was excellent, by the way) I marched upstairs and raided the toy box for items that intrigued me for no obvious reason, and took them to the second en-suite bedroom that we had christened the playroom. Returning to the girls, I gestured grandly towards the stairs. "Ladies, ninety minutes of Sapphic delight awaits you. Please enjoy yourselves. Hot drinks will be available in the interval. I'll meet you back here at eight fifteen."

Angie, tall and rangy, held her hand out to her petite blonde friend. "Lucy. I know this seems too weird, but trust us. Tonight is going to be awesome." They almost skipped their way upstairs.

Marie held back. "Are you okay Geoff?" She sounded genuinely concerned. "Don't overthink this. Lucy just wants to let you be free. It shouldn't threaten your pleasure. If it does, stop thinking and just put your cock in her. She'll be fine with that." And, stepping up on tiptoes, she kissed me on the lips and followed her two friends upstairs.

Now, everything that I'd said that night had been true. But there was one thing that I needed to check. In my research since Marie and I reconnected, and particularly since we invited her friends to join us, I had found one website which was a particularly useful resource for describing fetishes. It even carried stories, some exploring said fetishes in detail. A few, like those involving incest, were of no interest to me; others, I admit, I had dismissed as being intriguing but unattainable. But now; perhaps.

So I logged on and looked through some of the stories that I had saved to my favorites and there were a number of stories from one particular series that seemed to have caught my attention. I opened the first tale and skimmed through it. The main character was a man who had the time and inclination to devote himself to making women orgasm. That was his thing. I approved. I red quickly through a few more in the same series for inspiration. While my resources were more limited than the fictional central character's, I certainly had enough toys to copy the principle, if not the detail of the delights he had for his lovers. I realized, as I logged out, that I was erect. Perhaps Lucy was right. I'd teetered at the edge but never actually committed; maybe little Geoff understood something that I didn't.

I returned to our playroom and check my inventory. It appeared that I had unconsciously curated everything I needed to make my turn with Lucy memorable. Who knows? She might even get another painting out of it. I went back downstairs and prepped some cups for a half time coffee break, took one of my erection enhancers and went back to my most recent Discworld book. I was still lost in its pages twenty minutes later when three flushed women re-joined me.

"Geoffrey," Lucy informed me breathlessly. "Your wife is a very dirty girl."

"I know," I grinned back at her. "I have been truly blessed."

"And Angie," Lucy continued. "She's got such stamina."

"And that's why we're keeping her," I observed, with some satisfaction.

I put my book down and patted my lap. Lucy perched on it, wiggling her cute tush to get my cock just so, her dressing gown falling open to show most of her pert little boobs.

Marie leaned over the side of my chair to kiss my cheek. "Our agreement was that we were never alone while the other was entertaining. Were you okay with this?"

I took her hand and kissed it. "It was my suggestion," I pointed out. "I had things to do. We're fine."

Angie came through from the kitchen with coffees and cakes and we chatted about Lucy's induction into three way lesbian sex. It's fair to say she seemed to have embraced it enthusiastically. Then, the cups were empty and all that remained of the cakes were crumbs. It was time to change ends for the second half. Lucy and I stood and, picking up my book, I led her to my room. I saw Marie's look of surprise, but I had no intention of explaining.

Once in the playroom I unfastened Lucy's dressing gown and admired her body. From a distance she could pass for a teenager. Even close up she doesn't seem to be in her early sixties. Her long blonde hair is still silky, her skin is smooth and her boobs are small but a perfect fit on her 4 foot 10 frame.

"What are you, Lucy? Why are you here?" I asked her. Not menacing. She wasn't being submissive, like Angie and certainly not like Emily, she had just given herself to me as a gift. That in itself didn't seem to excite her, it's just how things were. She's weird.

"You made me feel desirable again. In return, I'm willing to be your fuck doll. Marie and Angela both heard me say it. My body is yours to use as you wish. I trust you not to break it."

I decided to give her a chance to reconsider. "I have spanked Angie and sometimes caused Marie a little pain when she's aroused. If we continue tonight I intend do that, and more, to you. Our safe-word is 'Desist' and, if your mouth is full, just hold your forefingers to your thumbs on both hands. If I see you do that, I'll stop whatever I'm doing. But it's important to me that you understand: We don't have to do exotic things, if you prefer we can just make love like two sane people."

She shook her head determinedly. "I've had all the mundane sex I'll ever need already with Eddie. Even the way that you touched me in the pub was a first for me and I'd never kissed another woman. Tonight I've had sex with two. If you just want to stick your cock in me that's fine, but I think there are probably things that you haven't dared share with Marie. Experiment on me first and then let Marie decide if she wants to try."

Her message was clear enough; we were on. "Lay on your back on the bed, in the middle," I instructed. She smiled as she slipped her robe off as she complied. "Lift your arms above your head." She did and then watched carefully as I bound her wrists together and lashed them to the center of the bed-head. Moving to her ankles they were tied to the legs at the bottom of the bed leaving her in an inverted 'Y' shape with her sex exposed. She licked her lips lasciviously as she watched me work.

"You seem over-dressed, Geoff," she observed as I admired my handiwork.

I stayed silent as I fastened one of my own leather belts around her waist and pulled it tight. Two lengths of cord secured the belt to the side of the bed-frame. Now she was almost totally immobile and I dealt with her last residual freedom of movement by looping a soft rope around each knee and fastening them to the frame too. There was nowhere she could go.

That was just the first step though: now it got serious. On our first trip to the sex store I had taken the ball gag and the flogger out of our basket and put them back on the shelf. On our second visit, with Sue and Margie, someone had obviously reclaimed them while my back was turned and included them in our purchases. That was fortunate. The ball gag went in Lucy's mouth. A silk scarf, folded several times, blindfolded her. Now for the toys. I lubed up an anal vibrator and slipped it carefully into her back passage, her sphincter gripping the narrow neck to keep it in place. Lucy made a muffled sound around the gag, but whether it was surprise, anguish or delight, only she knew. I flipped the switch to turn it on. I turned on another vibrator and slid it inside her exposed cunt. I made a mental note to buy a Bluetooth model that I could control from my phone.

I had found the nipple clamps that the girls had insisted on buying. I wasn't sure if Marie had used them on anyone yet, but tonight they would adorn Lucy's small pink nubs. She gasped around the gag as I attached them.

My last act of exquisite torment was to take a wand vibrator, turn it to high and strap it with elastic webbing between her thighs so that it was permanently lodged against her clit. Then I walked quietly to my chair, set an alarm on my phone for twenty minutes and went back to my book.

As I red, I checked regularly to make sure that Lucy was not making our safe signal with her hands. She never did; I was inexplicably proud of her. I watched briefly as she spasmed through yet another orgasm and, satisfied she was still not too distressed, returned to my book. When my alarm went off, I checked her again and went down to the kitchen. I boiled a kettle and filled a cup, dropping a teaspoon into the hot liquid. Then I found out an insulated travel cup and dropped a handful of ice cubes in it. I returned to the bedroom and undressed.

As I watched this petite mature woman writhing as best she could against her restraints as the wand vibrator brought her over-stimulated clitoris to yet another orgasm, her fifth I suspected, I felt a little pity. I wasn't even close to being finished with her either but, given her determination not to tap-out, I decided to see my plan through and hope she'd forgive me if I misjudged.

I reached down and turned off the wand and unstrapped it. Her chest was rising and falling, an endearing sight even with Lucy's relatively small tits. I removed the vibrator from her cunt. She relaxed even more and sighed around the ball gag. Deciding that I may need access to her mouth, I freed her from that too. She took a huge gulp of air. I stroked her forehead. "Was it awful, Lucy? Do you hate me now?"

"Fuck me, Geoff," she pleaded. "I came so many times but I still need you to fuck me. Please Geoff."

"Soon Lucy," I tried to sooth her. "Just a few more games to play."

She started to argue until I removed the clamp from her right nipple. The sensation as the blood started to flow again seemed to be intense. I removed the left clamp and watched her face contort as her discomfort built. In hindsight, perhaps touching the ice cubes to her sensitized nipples was cruel; certainly the effect was electric. Her head shook from side to side as the ice chilled her newly freed buds. I took the spoon from my cup of hot water and tested it on my own lip: Hot but not enough to burn. I touched the bowl against her right nipple. She screamed, but didn't tell me to desist. Now the left nipple, a whimper this time. I moved the ice cube to her clit, another squeal.

"What do you want, Lucy?" I taunted her.

"Fuck me, you bastard," she yelled. "Fill me up with your spunk. For fuck's sake just fucking do me!"

"No," I replied. "We have one more toy to try." I ignored her entreaties to just fucking fuck her and picked up the flogger. The model that one of my scamps had sneaked into the shopping was about 18 inches long, about half that length being the grip and the remainder made up of 48 thin leather laces calculated to 'caress the flesh with light stings that bring blood to the surface for a heated sensation' according to the catalogue. One can only imagine what that felt like with ten strokes applied firmly to each of Lucy's tender tits. Lucy, of course, now knows. She knows too how it felt applied to her vulva. She did not thank me for applying ice to cool those areas. Or the hot spoon.

In fact, after about five minutes of experimenting with the flogger across her whole body, she was even more incensed. "Fuck me now you fucking cunt!" She all but shrieked. "Stick that fucking cock in your slut's cunt and just fucking fuck me you bastard son of a whore!" I think we had found a whole new level of sexual arousal.

I'd left the anal vibrator where it was, quietly buzzing inside her and it was an odd sensation when I finally slid inside her cunt. I was amazed at how wet she was but there was still enough friction for us both to enjoy our coupling as her cunt muscles gripped like a vice as I entered.

Lucy was still bound and blindfolded that first time. The uniqueness of our situation reflecting in her response as I began to slew in and out. "Yes. Yes. Fucking yes!" She bawled. "About fucking time. Now bang me like a fucking bass drum you fucking bastard!" I'm just like any other man of my generation. If someone asks nicely I'll always do my best to help.

Anyway, after five minutes and at least one more orgasm from Lucy, I pulled out. I moved to her head untying the silk blindfold. "Suck my cock really well and I'll untie you and we'll fuck again. Refuse or do it badly and I'll leave you here until our time's up."

She glared at me and opened her mouth wide to receive me. I admit to feeling like a total shit as I pushed the head of my cock past her lips; she still hadn't said the word though, so on we went. Feeling an odd fusion of shame and elation, I held Lucy's head as I fucked her face. I managed not to lose control though. I wanted her to feel used, not abused. When I got to the limit of her ability to take me without choking, that was the point I stopped at. It must have been another three of four minutes before I felt the burn begin and then I pulled out and pulsed my semen over her face and on her lips.

She licked it off and swallowed. "How did I do?" She challenged me. "Did I pass? Did I suck like a good girl? Do I get to fuck you properly now?" Her voice rose with each question so that the last could have been heard downstairs,

In answer, I pulled the cords that released her hands and feet and unfastened the belt around her waist. She luxuriated at the feeling of being able to move her arms again and then reached for me. This was the moment; was she going to slap me senseless for what I'd done to her?

Lucy took my face in her hands. "That was so fucking intense," she whispered. "Please, please tell me that you still have something left."

"Soon," I reassured her. "But just now I want to kiss you better and try to take away all of the pain that I caused." So saying, I bent down and kissed her. She responded enthusiastically. I moved to her tits. I looked up as I took her right nipple in my mouth. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God," she gasped. "They are so sensitive." I nodded in understanding and began to suckle, gently at first then more urgently as she adjusted. I alternated left to right and back. my hands palpating the tit that I wasn't tonguing. Her breathing quickened. "Jesus," she breathed softly. "You surely can't make me come like this? Oh God. Oh God." Turns out, I could.

When her muscle spasms abated, I moved down, kissing her belly as I went. Finally I arrived at the center of her pleasure. I pulled the vibrator from her bum, dropping it onto the towel by the bed alongside the other toys. Then I paused to revel in the sight of her sex. Her clit was engorged, as were her labia. The entrance to her cunt gaped, glistening with the copious amount of lubricant she'd generated as she orgasmed repeatedly. Her inner lips were a gorgeous coral pink and just begged to be kissed and you should know by now that was an invitation that I could never refuse.

I bent to my task and was rewarded by the sounds of her breathing becoming ever more ragged. By now I was almost erect once more so I knelt up between her thighs and slipped inside her again. This time she could participate; hold me, spread her legs, thrust up to meet me. This time we made love, kissing caressing stroking; our legs wrapping around each other’s as we both strove to find that magical unattainable position that makes that final climax the best it can possibly be. Personally, I think we did well. Lucy was on an orgasmic high and either came more than once or only once but for a very long time. Me? Five or six minutes was the best that I could do before being embedded in this wonderful little body become too much and I flooded deep inside her and collapsed, spent but euphoric.

Eventually I opened my eyes and turned to find Lucy regarding me thoughtfully. "What did you find, you know, inside yourself?"

I considered. "I think I understand better now how far I'm prepared to go. But," I cautioned. "Even all of this was because my kink is making women orgasm. It's who I am. I don't want you to be my sex slave but, if you're happy to be my guinea pig, girl have I got a treat for you next time." She smiled happily and snuggled up to me.

After five minutes cuddling it was nearly time to meet Marie and Angie downstairs. "Shower?" I offered.

"Not yet," Lucy surprised me. "I want Angie and Marie to see what you've done to me," she explained mischievously. Who was I to argue?

My wife and her pal were already there, pouring tea, when we arrived. Marie almost recoiled when she saw the state Lucy was in. Her silky hair was matted with sweat; her skin was flushed and glistening; her adorable elfin features were still streaked with my semen; when her gown gaped open her nipples were still obviously raw, and she looked, to be honest, as though she had just serviced an entire football team: and the coaching staff: possibly twice.

"Dear God! Lucy what has he done to you? Geoffrey." Oops that's my 'you've been naughty name'. "What the Hell did you do?"

It was a silly question, really. She knows that we promised to keep whatever went on behind closed doors private. "A gentleman never tells," I reminded her. It didn't go down well but she knew that was all she'd get from me.

She turned to Lucy, while Angie watched the entertainment. "Are you alright Lucy?" She persisted.

"Alright? It was incredible. I lost count after the eighth time I came. I had six orgasms while he wasn't even touching me. Fuck! How I hated him! But it was so intense. I've never experienced anything like it." The words spurted out of her like water from a hose. "He tied me up, blindfolded me, put things on my tits, put things in me and then left me, helpless, just cumming all the time. It was awful but I need to know he'll do it again, not every time. God, no, that would be too much, but sometimes. Oh fuck, Marie, you have to let him do it to you too. I feel so alive."

She stopped, having run out of breath. Angie looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I saw her eyebrow and raised her a wink. She nodded contentedly. "Soon," she mouthed. I smiled in acknowledgement.

Marie seemed less excited at Lucy's description. Her look was more appraising. "I think Lucy's brief summary releases you from any concerns about confidentiality. Would you like to share any thoughts?"

I was feeling a little defensive. "I did what you said and explored my inner self. Lucy has already asked me what I'd found." I had Marie and Angie's attention then. "I realized that my quirk is no more than taking pleasure in making women come. By prolonging the process for the woman I extend my own pleasure. I already know what I intend to do to Lucy next time she asks me. I won't tell her though; anticipation is part of the thrill." Lucy's face lit up.

I calmed down a little. "If I had known about Sam's preferences earlier, then she might have enjoyed what Lucy just experienced, if I'd had the nerve. I know that Angie is desperate to go there too but, without Lucy pushing me, with your support, may I add, then I don't think that I would have had the courage to fully commit. Now, I know how far I'm prepared to go." I leant against the table, my head bowed. "Only the fact that Lucy enjoyed it, justifies how badly I treated her. This isn't the me you know but, if you beg, this is who I'm prepared to be for you all."

"I'm in!" That was Angie. To be fair, I think she had a couple of decades of missed sexual opportunities to make up for.

Marie seemed conflicted. I think I knew why. We needed to talk, and sooner rather than later. "Angie, sweetheart. Please will you take Lucy upstairs and be there for her while she showers?" I asked. "She may still be a little overwhelmed and I need a word with Marie." Angie actually got the message and she and Lucy disappeared upstairs, Lucy revisiting the highlights of our session as she went.

"Okay love, it's just the two of us. Something's bothering you and you need to share before it festers" I said, my voice expressing my genuine concern.

"I don't think I want you to do that to me," she admitted quietly, walking up to me for a hug. Good! We weren't falling out over this.

"Are you unhappy that your friends might be excited about doing something that you find too extreme?"

"I think perhaps I am. Does that make me a bad person?"

"I'm having sex with eight other women but I'm still unable to think about you with another man. Does that make me any better?" I countered.

"But I know I'm being unreasonable," she admitted. "Why should the girls be denied something just because I'm too precious to submit? It isn't as though I don't trust you;”

"Break the problem down," I suggested. "Why don't you want to participate and why would it be an issue for you if Sam and Angie did?" Marie hesitated, unable to respond. I didn't want to push her. "Don't answer now: sleep on it. We can talk more later."

We changed the subject as we waited for Lucy to finish in the bathroom. After she'd left, thanking us all profusely, Angie went too. She said that she had some consultancy work to prepare for at home.

My wife and I went straight up to bed, just to hold each other and snuggle. Marie had some issues to resolve and the next day we had to explain to Mia's mum why Colin had invited her teenage daughter to a Jedi ceremony celebrating a retired couple adding another woman to their marriage. How could the conversation at that meal possibly be uncomfortable?

Still that was Thursday's problem. I never could get the hang of Thursdays, until recently, anyway.

To be continued in part 11. Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.