Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 15

The Live Sex Show

Geoffrey performs in public.

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

We were sitting cuddling together on the sofa when Colin arrived, with Mia in tow. Angie had offered to cook that afternoon and we were trying to decide what we fancied. I suggested a chilli con carne with rice. Angie decided otherwise.

"Kids," she called. They wandered in from the kitchen with glasses of milk and a chocolate biscuit each.

"If I go shopping for ingredients, would you two help me cook tea tonight?" The two teens shared a look and agreed. "Right," she announced, standing up. "Go and sort out your homework with grandad; I'll go shopping."

I stood and went to get my wallet. She glared at me. "Go on. Do it," she challenged me. "I bloody dare you to offer me money to get food for the people I care about."

I carefully closed the drawer and apologized for my insensitivity. "I just don't want you to think that we take you for granted," I explained.

Her expression softened. "And if I ever feel that way, I'll say something, but right now it's my turn to give. Please allow me that."

I went and pulled her into a hug. "Sorry Angie. You know I wouldn't deliberately upset you. Am I forgiven?"

She returned my hug. "You were never in trouble. I was just reminding you that we're family now and I want to contribute too."

She gave me another squeeze, a brief kiss and she left. I turned to the kids, who had watched our exchange, fascinated. "What?" I asked.

Colin shook his head. "Not sure about this whole adult relationship stuff," he griped. "They are all weird." Mia smiled at his comment, but didn't argue. To be fair, the lad had a point.

"Okay." I clapped my hands. "Homework?"

It turned out that they were studying climate change. Their teacher had given the class three questions and they were free to choose which one to answer. I suggested that Colin and Mia avoided answering the same question so they weren't accused of copying, and sent them off to the study.

Angie was back and in the kitchen laying out her ingredients when the teens finally reappeared. Colin, ever the gentleman, had allowed Mia to use our laptop for her slides, while he had used my tablet. That was fine; it wasn't as though we regularly used our devices to cruise porn sites. Besides, I had made sure that Marie knew to use private tabs if she was viewing adult content. The kids were old enough to start learning about relationships. Images of explicit sex were not on their agenda for some years to come.

I sent them in to the kitchen and, with their permission, went to check over their homework. I was reassured. If I had seen job applications written that thoughtfully, they both definitely would have qualified for an interview.

I joined the others in the kitchen, only to find that I was redundant. Colin was slicing an onion, Mia was chopping mushrooms and Angie was trimming what looked like a pork fillet. She looked up and shook he head, smiling. "The sous chefs are doing fine," she explained. "I want them to feel confident that they can work without being micro-managed."

I watched Colin. He was doing well. Slow, perhaps, but careful. Mia was taking equal care to have all the slices of mushroom a similar thickness.

"Shall I set the table then?" I suggested. The consensus was that yes, I could perhaps make myself useful that way.

"Set for a starter, main and dessert, please," Angie advised me. "We have a full menu planned."

"Wine?"

"A nice white, maybe an oaked chardonnay," suggested Colin. "I checked on my phone," he explained, in response to my surprised expression.

I grunted and went to set about my assigned tasks, and that was how Marie found me when she returned from work. "That's my job when you're the cook," she observed.

"I have been supplanted by our wicked betrothed and her evil teen minions," I sulked.

"That's nice, dear," she said, absently, as she bustled about putting her coat away.

We went into the kitchen together once I had finished. My wife walked up behind Angie and gave her a big hug. "Geoffrey is feeling emasculated," she told her friend. The minions looked on in amusement.

Angie gave a derisive snort. "It's my turn to cook with the kids because I'm here today. Geoff can take his turn any day."

"There you go, Geoff," my wife reassured me. "We still enjoy your cooking, it's just that Angie gets less opportunity." Seeing as how I was only pretending to be upset, it was easy to pretend that all was forgiven. I accepted the explanation with a kiss for both of my girls and went off in search of a bottle of wine.

I sat and red, while Marie and Angie caught up in the kitchen. Marie joined me ten minutes later. "Angie's bursting to tell me about her day, but all she dare say in front of the kids is that you and she had a pleasant afternoon."

I glanced at the door. "I don't think we should have this conversation here and now. If one of the youngsters walks in, the guilty silence will just be uncomfortable for everyone. So how was your day?"

And so we sat and I listened to her accounts of generous donors, sweet natured old ladies and the occasional twat who tried to bargain down the price on the ticket. For Fuck's sake! It's a charity shop. And Marie was clear; the worst offenders were most obviously not short of change. They were just tight bastards. Not that my beloved ever capitulated. She would just smile sweetly and remind them where they were, pointing out that they were welcome to try the same approach in John Lewis with her full support.

We made the occasional foray to the kitchen but our offers of help were politely, but firmly, rebuffed. To be fair, the atmosphere was relaxed. I asked about the menu and, after looking to the chef for approval, Mia ran through it. "We are starting with cubes of baked breaded brie on a bed of salad with a lingonberry relish. Then there is pork stroganoff with green vegetables and rice. For dessert we are having individual warm pear frangipane tartlets with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream." She paused. "Oh, yes," she continued. "If anyone is still hungry there's a selection of cheeses as well as olives, and some nice bread to go with dipping oils and vinegars."

I did a quick calculation in my head. "At today’s prices, I reckon that meal would come in at about £50 plus per head just in a country pub." Mia just grinned at me. I carried on. "Can I afford to get used to eating like this?"

I looked around the kitchen brigade and saw three unreasonably happy cooks. Angie was obviously less demanding of the children and seemed thrilled to be able to pass on her knowledge. Colin just loved cooking and Mia seemed to be determined to learn so that she could help her mum.

I turned to Angie. "This all smells wonderful. Wendy and Linda should both be here well before six. Is that okay, Chef?"

Angie looked at her team. "Starters on the pass for six o'clock."

"Yes Chef!" They shouted in unison. We shook our heads and left them to it.

Wendy arrived first. Mia had sent her a text to say that they were eating at our place again. Wendy tried to apologize for intruding but we, particularly Marie, were having none of it. "We love having Mia with us. I know she's very mature but, as Colin is here anyway, it makes no sense for her to be at home, alone," my wife told her. "In addition, Angie is doing a cookery masterclass and she is way more tolerant of the kids than she is with me, so it's easier just to let them get on with it."

Mia must have heard her mum's voice because she left the kitchen, briefly, to give her mum a hug before apologizing. "Sorry mum, but I need to turn the tarts so they brown evenly." And, with that, she dashed back to the kitchen. We led a bemused Wendy to the living room, sat her down and asked about her day. Her eyes filled as she explained just how grateful she was not to come home to have to start cooking a meal, even just for one night. She had a decent job in the Civil Service so money wasn't too much of a problem. She just struggled finding time to be the wage earner, housekeeper and mum. She felt guilty too that Mia seemed to feel obliged to sacrifice her spare time to help around the house rather than being a teenager.

Marie glanced at me. We're not telepathic but I was certain we were thinking the same thing. Wendy was so caught up in being the perfect single parent, she had forgotten how to be Wendy.

We never really got the chance, that evening anyway, to pursue that thought as we heard the front door open to herald our daughter's arrival. What followed, by then, seemed oddly familiar. Hearing his mother greeting us, Colin emerged from the kitchen, hugged his mum, and promptly departed, shouting over his shoulder, "Sorry mum. Got to dash. I can't let the rice overcook. Love you."

Linda appeared as flummoxed as Wendy had. "I don't know what it is about this house, but there always seems to be something odd going on just lately." Wendy looked at her in surprise. "What?" my daughter retorted. "How many other throuple weddings have you been invited to? Even more particularly, how many with a Star Wars dress code?" She shook her head. "Christ, I hope it isn't genetic; otherwise I'm well and truly fucked!" She put her hand to her mouth guiltily and checked to see that neither of the youngsters had overheard. "Sorry all. That just slipped out," she apologized. "I've had a weird day at work too. Some half-wit manager wanted me to;” She did the 'air-quotes' with her fingers. "; Expedite a delivery to an important client in Nice."

"Let's sit down and you can vent in comfort," I suggested. I led our daughter through and Marie followed with Wendy. "Now, go on. Story so far, idiot, big words, France. New readers start here."

She explained that, in order to cover his ass for something that his team had screwed up, said half-wit tried to make it Linda's problem to solve. The vehicle in question was already in France and the driver had to observe French law. The only way to 'expedite' the delivery would be to exceed his permitted hours or fly another driver out to take over; neither was going to happen. Being Marie's daughter, of course she just picked up the phone and asked the operations manager for a cost code for the air fare from Gatwick to Lyon. Apparently the idiot had just assumed that Linda, being a woman could just, who knows? Make it go away?

Ops manager had obviously queried the request and Linda, quite disingenuously, told him. It was not well received. She sighed. "On the upside, I got the problem back where it belongs. On the other hand, now I have to watch my back in case he tries to retaliate." She took a deep breath and sat back. "Thank you." We must have looked puzzled. "For just listening and not telling me what I should have done," she explained. She thought for a moment. "This place is still weird though."

As she finished that thought, Colin appeared from the kitchen with a white napkin over his arm, to invite us take our places at the table. Linda looked at me. "See?" She mouthed. I could only grin in reply.

We took our seats as directed and were joined by Angie and Mia. Colin disappeared to the kitchen and returned with the bottle of wine I had selected and placed in the fridge earlier. Handing it to me to open he returned to the kitchen. Angie cleared her throat. "Wendy, Linda; would you be prepared to let Mia and Colin have a small glass of wine with their meal? They have put their hearts into preparing it; it seems unfair that they miss out on that one component."

Mia sat, apparently startled, and watched as her mother considered Angie's request. Wendy nodded slowly. "That seems fair. I'd rather she experienced alcohol in a civilized setting like this." She looked around the table. "Rather than getting hammered at her first student party at Uni."

Linda nodded in agreement. "I'll get some glasses for them." Colin reappeared carrying three plates that he placed in front of Angie, Marie and Wendy. He made the journey again, this time serving Linda, Mia and me. He made the final trip for his own starter. As he sat, I reached across and poured a half measure of wine into his glass. He looked to his mum for reassurance. She smiled in acknowledgement. I poured a similar glass for Mia and then shared the remainder amongst the adults.

I picked up my glass. "Ladies, Colin, a toast to the Chef and her crew." We four non-cooks raised our glasses in tribute; the cooks acknowledged our compliment and then joined in the toast. Then we attacked the food. The brie was delicious and matched beautifully with the sweet fruit jam. I watched surreptitiously as Colin finished a mouthful and self-consciously took a sip of wine. His brow furrowed as he reconciled the flavors of the wine and the food. He went back to his food looking thoughtful. We finished the starter and complimented the cooks on the flavor and the presentation. It had looked as good as it tasted.

We moved onto the main course. Angie and Mia plated up in the kitchen, while Colin worked 'front of house'. Again, the meal was delicious. Angie's version was discs of pork in an onion and mushroom sauce made with crème fraiche, Dijon mustard and smoked paprika, finished with a hint of lemon juice. The plain white rice was perfect for soaking up the sauce.

Colin sipped his wine again. "It tastes different with this course," he commented. "It still works but in a different way." He looked to Mia for opinion.

"Is it because the lingonberry was so sweet that the wine tasted sharper?" She asked me.

I shrugged. "Probably. It might even be something to do with the lactic acid in the crème fraiche. What matters is whether you like it."

"I do," she smiled and turned to Angie. "Thank you;” She hesitated. "I'm sorry. But I don't know what to call you."

"Grangie," offered Colin.

"Or Angie," suggested our fiancée.

Wendy seemed uncomfortable. "Isn't that a bit familiar? Wouldn't Mrs. and your surname be more appropriate?"

"Technically," interjected Linda. "If you were going to insist that we stand on ceremony, Mia should address Angie as Professor Weston." She frowned at the thought. "Nope. This place is weird enough already. Angie or Grangie. He's Geoff or grandad; that's Marie or grandma and I'm Linda. We want you and Mia to be comfortable here."

Mia considered. "Thank you Angie for getting mum and Linda to let us have wine with the meal."

"You both earned it dear," Angie assured her. "Now. Desserts, I think."

Again, the two girls plated as Colin served. The tartlets looked amazing; a light short crust pastry filled with an almond flavored sponge topped with poached pear cubes. On each plate there was a swirl of chocolate sauce over a generous quenelle of vanilla ice-cream, starting to melt where it touched the still warm tart. I knew where Angie had gone shopping for the ingredients for the meal, and the small fragrant black specks confirmed that she had not economized on cheap ice-cream. This was made with actual vanilla pods. The aroma from the plate was amazing; it was all that I could do not to dive straight in. Still, manners required that I wait until everyone was served, so that's what I did.

Once Colin was seated, we began. The taste was amazing. I glanced towards Angie in inquiry. "Star anise as well as cinnamon," she clarified. I nodded, impressed, and turned back to my dessert and savored the remainder. I watched as Colin took another sip of his wine and then Mia as she followed suit. Colin actually shuddered. Mia merely looked disappointed.

"Have a sip of water," I suggested. "And then wait a couple of minutes after you've finished eating."

After the seven plates were all but polished clean, we thanked our catering team. It had been an absolutely lovely meal and the final course had been a triumph. Linda and Marie stood to clear the table, but returned immediately to sit with our guests and chat as we finished our wine.

"I've never eaten like that before," Wendy admitted.

"At home, you mean?" Asked Linda.

Wendy shook her head. "Ever. My husband didn't like 'fancy foreign muck' so it was fish and chips, takeaways or just ready meals." Her voice cracked with emotion. "Even now, most of our meals are out of the freezer. I can boil potatoes and grill sausages and reheat tinned or frozen veg. My dad just liked the same old stuff too, so that's all my mum taught me. That's about my limit. At this moment," she admitted, sadly, "Mia's almost certainly a better cook than I am."

Angie surprised me. She isn't always the most diplomatic of us. "Being untutored is not the same as being a failure." She reached for Wendy's hand. "Tell us how we can help, and between us, you have a group of capable cooks here who are happy to teach you whatever we can."

Marie and I finished our drinks and Linda joined us in the kitchen. The brigade had washed and tidied as they went so there was only really the crockery to deal with. That went in the dishwasher. We cleaned the hob and worktops and sorted out the saucepans then returned to the living room. The teens had disappeared, leaving Angie and Wendy talking about food.

When Wendy confessed that she would struggle to even shop for a meal such as we'd just had, Linda made a contribution. "A girl I work with wanted to branch out from the same old stuff she always cooks, so she orders from one of those on-line delivery companies. She swears by them now." She picked up her phone. "I can call her and if you decide to do it and say she recommended them to you, then you'll both get a discount."

Wendy looked uncertain. The poor woman had no self-confidence at all. Linda left the room and returned two minutes later scrolling on her phone. "Here," she said, passing her phone to Wendy. "Jan told me how to install their app. Pick four meals for two people from this menu list and you'll get everything you need delivered next week, along with recipe cards. Jan said the instructions are dead simple and she's actually learning to cook from doing it."

Wend called for Mia to come and choose with her and, together they picked four meals that they thought they might enjoy cooking together. While they did, Colin and I chatted about his first experience of wine with a meal. "It tasted nice, except with dessert," he told me. "Would a sweeter wine have been nicer?"

"Probably," I acknowledged. "There's a lot of snobbery and nonsense about wine, but some types do go with some foods better than others. I didn't find it clashed to the extent that you did, so personal preference and experience play a part too."

At that point Mia called him over to see what she and her mum had chosen for the following week. He pointed to one selection. "Grandma makes that sometimes. It's ace."

Wendy passed the phone back to Linda and the pair completed the sign up and the first order, making sure to claim the discount. Wendy seemed conflicted. "I'm a bit nervous about having to make something I've never done before," she confessed. "But I'm excited at the same time."

"Think of this," my wife suggested. "As long as you have a loaf of bread, a tin of baked beans and some cheese in the house, even if it all goes horribly wrong, at least you won't starve."

The conversations about food carried on until Wendy looked at her watch. "Oh goodness," she exclaimed. "Look at the time!" And after collecting Mia and thanking us for our hospitality, within ten minutes they were gone.

Linda pulled me into the kitchen. "That poor girl's husband did a proper number on her: the bastard," she spat. "She copes okay at work because she knows her job. But as a person;” She paused, speechless.

"I know, sweetheart. We all do. And she's such a lovely woman too."

She stared at me, suspiciously. "Are you three planning something?"

"No," I answered, sort of honestly. "But if an opportunity presents itself, we would probably try to help her see what a worthy person she is."

Linda didn't seem convinced but seemed prepared to let the matter drop; well almost. "Just don't hurt her," she warned me. "Or else." And with those words, she collected Colin, her coat and her car keys and, after saying goodbye and thanking Angie for the meal, they left.

I went to put the kettle on for a coffee and, as I expected, on strolling into the living room with our drinks, found the two women deep in conversation about our afternoon's sex. "It was so messed up," Angie was complaining. "I hated him, but I needed him so much at the same time. And when he did finally let me come." She paused as she re-lived the memory. "Fuck! Marie, it was amazing."

My wife took her cup from me and looked up uncertainly. "Geoffrey?" I had a reasonable idea what she was thinking.

I considered my reply as I passed Angie her drink. I sat next to my wife. "Obviously, in this situation, I would be totally in control of your pleasure. Submissiveness does not sit well with you so this seems unappealing. I understand entirely." I took a sip and carried on. "The purpose of the game, though, is to extend your orgasm beyond what you would willingly do yourself: hence the restraints."

Angie seemed to be bursting with frustration. I signaled her to calm down. "Perhaps if you reframed the play," I suggested. Marie seemed intrigued. "Instead of thinking of me dominating you in a master/slave relationship, perhaps think of me as a trusted agent providing you with an uncomfortable service that benefits you in the long run."

"Go on," my wife prompted me, cautiously.

"Like a dentist or a masseur. Uncomfortable in the short term but with an outcome that makes you feel better. But, in order to achieve the benefit, you have to surrender some freedom for the duration."

Angie couldn't sit quietly any longer. "That's it!" She blurted out. "That's how I felt. Not humiliated or hurt or abused; I wanted him to stop but at the end, fuck! It was worth it."

"Even so," I cautioned. "The fact that, again, you are thinking about ceding control of your pleasure to me is a worry. Angie enjoys it. Lucy seems to relish gifting herself." I put my cup down and took Marie's hand. "You were worried about normalizing restraint, and yet here we are discussing it again. I will say this once more. This was my treat for Angie. I enjoy making her happy but that has no bearing at all on what you and I do. I have boundaries too but, as long as you or any of your, what's your preferred word? Coven; that's it. As long as you or the others in the coven don't overstep, I will happily do whatever is asked of me."

"So, if I didn't want that experience, you wouldn't feel slighted?" She asked, cautiously.

"Okay," I replied. "Stupid analogy coming up. Wendy asks me to show her how to chop onions. I show her. She's happy; it cost me nothing; it cost you nothing. Now, you could say, 'show me too,' or you might say, 'I prefer my own way.' My ego is not so fragile that you taking option two in the kitchen, or the bedroom, will crush it."

"He means it, babe," Angie added. "He got a quick bang at the end, but the rest was all for my benefit." She stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Would it be different if it was me; a woman?"

I saw my wife's expression change as Angie's words sank in. "I don't know," she admitted. My cousin was much bigger and stronger than me, the way that Geoff is, but you are less intimidating, even though you're taller than me.""

"That's it then," Angie declared with finality. "You and I will play together sometime and we'll find out where your comfort zone sits. If needs be, I can have you climbing the walls begging for cock and then Geoff can join us when I think you're ready, and he can give you the porking you'll be craving." She sat back with an evil contented grin.

"That sounds very supportive, dear," Marie responded, with more than a hint of sarcasm. But I knew that the seed was sown and she'd make her decision in her own time.

I changed the subject at that point; I needed some help with Jo's birthday surprise. I explained my thinking, my girls offered some improvements and we had a plan. The next couple of hours were spent cuddled up on the sofa watching TV; Marie in her usual spot on my right and Angie on my left. I wasn't sure when this became our practice, but they seemed content and that's all that mattered. We weren't late to bed but, oddly enough, we just snuggled up together and went to sleep. It felt like it had been a long day.

So; Friday morning. A fine day, if a bit breezy, so I suggested a walk after breakfast. We strolled through our favorite park but, instead of retracing our steps home, we carried on into town. We meandered. We stopped by the gallery where Lucy's works were still on display, marveling at the number of 'Sold' stickers on the frames and the prices in the catalogue. With my new understanding of her style, I could see myself in some of the paintings and speculated whether I could see Marie or Angie's presence.

There was a new canvas in the gallery. It was titled 'Patterns at the dance'. Swirls of vivid color with corresponding more somber lines. Of course! The women's dresses and the men's suits. And there, in the bottom left was our table. My turquoise blending with coral pink to my right and dark orange to my left; obviously Marie and Angie. In turn the pink merged into a pale yellow and the orange into a vivid green; obviously Sue and Margie. Now I knew how Lucy saw my girls. I was fairly certain which was which.

I reeled when I saw the price. Ten thousand! Admittedly, it was a large work by comparison with the others, but still; I pointed it out to the girls. Marie was amused. "We'll pop into Boots and see if we can get some lipstick in our colors," she suggested, mischievously. "See if she notices when we see her this afternoon."

So that was the next half hour taken care of. On the way to the café to recover, we passed a menswear shop. I was dragged in and, to the delight of both women, there we found a turquoise silk tie. Not buying it was never an option.

We stopped in at the pub on the way home. Tony confirmed that everything was set for that evening and agreed to my request to have the small room downstairs for my additional guests to assemble before we joined the party. He reminded me about swearing everyone to secrecy and making it clear that this was a sex show, not an orgy. He was not going to lose his license or his reputation because one of my guests blabbed. I agreed, of course.

After a light lunch at home, the three of us sat and chatted until it was time for the girls to get ready. I picked up my book. They reappeared at about three thirty, both looking very smart: Marie in a knee length dress that showed a discreet cleavage and Angie in tailored black trousers and a smart blue tailored jacket. Both were wearing heels and both were sporting the lipsticks they had bought that morning.

I offered them a lift to the pub but they decided to walk. Marie had thought of some items that we might need that evening and wanted to stop off at the newsagents to pick them up. Angie also held up bag, saying that she had raided our toy box;  just in case. They left, giggling like schoolgirls, almost forgetting Jo's present in their excitement.

I sighed, made myself a coffee, took my erection pill and sat down with my book to relax. I red for an hour or so then went to get ready. I showered and shaved and then looked thoughtfully at my groin. Should I manscape? Recognizing that I should have thought of this earlier, and resolving to discuss it later with Marie and Angie, I decided that a scissor trim could work but shaving was a step too far. After ten minutes, I was happy; any more ran the risk of being too much.

My outfit was, as I had expected, laid on the bed. Tailored trousers, slip-on leather shoes;  no socks, a fitted cream shirt and my blue silk tie. There was my smart charcoal grey woolen jacket hanging on the wardrobe door. The girls ( I assumed both were involved) had chosen pale blue square-cut hipster briefs for my undies. I agreed with their selection. I checked my watch: five thirty; Jane and Wendy would be arriving at the party around then, after work, and my special guests would start to arrive about fifteen minutes later. I dressed quickly, checked myself in the mirror, grabbed my wallet and set off to the pub.

I was still at the bar ordering my drink, when Ken arrived. He and the woman I instantly recognized from our previous video chat as Cath, his wife, were helping Charles into the bar. I left my drink with the barmaid and led them to our private room. After getting them settled, I returned to the bar and ordered drinks for them too, adding them to my tab. The rest of my party started to drift in after that. The students Mark, Tabby and Alice; then Mike, his wife Becky and their shared partner Ruth, Becky's Ex-Sister-in-Law, now divorced from Becky's brother. Adrian and Emily were only a minute or so behind them. They all chose a drink and I directed them to the back room.

Tony shooed me away to entertain my guests, promising to bring the order through for me. I thanked them all for being there, and Ken for collecting Charles. I explained in general terms what I had planned for that evening and, as diplomatically as I could, reminded them that this was a live sex performance, not an orgy. Although as a private event with no paid performers I wasn't sure what laws we would be breaking, this was our pub and we didn't want its reputation trashing. That led to my warning about discretion. The details of this evening should remain in the room upstairs. Could they say that they had once seen a live sex show? Yes. Could they say who, when and where? No. They all agreed without reservation.

I checked my watch: ten to six. Checking with Ken one last time, I left to congratulate the Birthday Girl.

Now, I'll be honest here. From my perspective, I only found out how the party had progressed up to that point when I spoke to Marie and Angie later that evening. But from the purpose of narrative continuity, perhaps I should insert that here.

Marie and Angie had arrived first, as planned, and sat at their usual table where they were joined by Sue and Margie straight from the school where they both taught. Lucy arrived next, having collected Jo's pre-ordered birthday cake from the local patisserie. Marie showed her to the upstairs room and they put it on the table. They checked that all the curtains were closed and were pleased to find that the room was pleasantly warm.

Marie put the bottle bag with our gift on the table and Lucy placed her gift, in a beautifully wrapped box, next to it. The went back to the bar to await the others; Marie stopping on the way to order drinks for everyone. Well, a liter bottle of Prosecco and nine glasses. Tony took the order and opened a tab as I'd asked. Megan was next, as elegant as ever, followed by Jo. The girls greeted her excitedly, wishing her a happy birthday. Our newest friends were introduced to the group as the girls arrived, though Lucy had already met them and knew them, literally, intimately. It was then that Lucy twigged that my two had color coordinated their lipstick with her canvas.

"Did you like it?" she'd asked nervously, realizing that they must have seen the painting.

They reassured her that she had captured the atmosphere and movement beautifully and she had sat back, satisfied.

They had just settled down when Kate and Sam arrived. Marie poured everyone a glass of fizz and they toasted the birthday girl. They sat and nattered happily while they finished the bottle and then Marie had Lucy lead everyone upstairs while she collected the menus and another two bottles of wine. Just Pinot Grigio this time though.

They sent Angie back to the bar with their choices from the menu and, on her return, allowed Jo to open the cards and presents. She opened Megan's first: a gorgeous thigh length ivory satin dressing gown. Next was ours, the Trinidad rum. Apparently it was a name Jo was familiar with and she knew it had an excellent reputation. She had frowned at Marie. Jo was aware of how expensive it was. My wife had dismissed Jo's concern; the gift was from the three of us so the price was commensurate. Jo knew better than to argue.

Kate and Sam used the same excuse for their combined gift of Victoria's Secret bra and brief set in fuchsia pink to complement Jo's caramel complexion. The set, I was to learn later, was an open cup demi bra matched with a wisp described as an embroidered lace thong.

Sue and Margie, not having met Jo before, had shared the cost of what Marie assured me was a rather exclusive skin care set.

Lucy was grinning like a Cheshire Cat when she passed across her gift. Jo had hefted the box in her hand, commenting how heavy it was. The others were as intrigued as Jo as she removed the paper to reveal a plain cardboard gift box. Removing the lid, she had frozen at the sight of the contents nestling on a bed of crumpled tissue paper. It was the first of the limited edition replicas of my cock to leave the studio. Lucy beamed as she informed her friends that Jo's gift was in a hard wearing and washable turquoise acrylic and contained a drop of my semen within it.

Jo turned it over in her hands, glancing at Marie, possibly to see if she was offended. She wasn't. "Good God," Jo had murmured. "To think I've had the original inside me." Marie laughed as she told me that they had all had a quiet moment of introspection until Angie cheerfully observed that she and Marie had both had it (the original) up their bums too. That had lightened the mood and Jo started to open her cards and was still reading them when the food arrived.

The rest of the afternoon, apparently, went much as usual, the two new girls and the seven old friends laughing and joking over their drinks: the bottles of wine being interspersed with soft drinks or teas and coffees as Jo cut and shared out the cake. The first change came at five thirty when Tony showed Jane and Wendy into the room. Wendy was a little uncomfortable in social situations and this group had a very strong dynamic. Fortunately Angie and she had formed a strong bond, akin to aunt and favorite niece, and that seemed to have settled her nerves somewhat.

In Jane's case, there was a matter to be resolved. When she had met Marie for a coffee some days before, Jane had appalled my wife by repeating some malicious personal gossip that Jane had heard from her friend group. Much as she liked Jane and sympathized with her, particularly admiring the way she'd coped after her husband's death, Marie was reluctant to proceed with her plan to invite Jane to meet the rest of 'the girls'. Jane had redeemed herself, a little, when she recognized the hypocrisy of her judging other's private lives as I showed her around my favorite adult store.

Marie had taken her to one side as Angie introduced Wendy to the others. Jane had taken the initiative and apologized to my wife for making her uncomfortable. She also thanked Marie for being sufficiently secure to trust me to take another woman, particularly one I routinely flirted with, to a sex shop. Jane explained that she had sat listening to her friends the following day and realized what a bitter and venomous group of people she had fallen in with. She had finished her coffee, picked up her shopping and left. She had not spoken to them again and nor, she had assured Marie, would she, ever.

My wife had hugged her, kissed her cheek and led her back to the group to make the next round of introductions. Pre-warned, both Jane and Wendy had brought token gifts. Prosecco from Wendy and a Hotel Chocolat selection from Jane. The girls were still chatting when I appeared. Apparently, Lucy's gift had already been discreetly replaced in its box.

I realized as I entered the room followed by Tony, that I had to navigate the next few minutes quite carefully. First I greeted my wife and our girlfriend. Jane was shocked to see the affectionate kiss from Angie. Then it was my little sex-toy's turn; obviously Lucy wasn't about to wind her libido down for any reason, so the kiss I got from her could have powered a searchlight. That surprised Wendy as well as Jane. Wendy knew about Angie but not the rest of our complicated relationships.

I greeted each of my lovers in turn, leaving Jo until last. I opened my arms and pulled her close. We kissed briefly. "Happy birthday, beautiful," I whispered, kissing her again and luxuriating in the feel of her warm full tits against me. She thanked me for her gift. I smiled and looked at Tony who, with his wife's help, was clearing away the plates from their meal. He signaled his understanding and left.

I turned towards Jane, holding out my hand. She looked uncertainly to Marie for reassurance. My wife just inclined her head in approval and Jane stepped into my embrace. She looked up, her eyes moist and I bent to kiss her. I heard someone sigh;  I think it was Angie;  as Jane and I finally shared a genuine loving kiss. I felt her body shaking with emotion and I broke away. "Speak to Marie," I told her quietly. "She'll explain everything, and then you'll understand why we hold our privacy so dear." I kissed her once more and then released her.

Finally, I faced Wendy. "I know how strange this must all seem, but these women are all our friends; some old, some new. I'd be delighted if you would share a hug with me, but what you do next is completely up to you." I made no move towards her. I'm not a predator and nor was it my place to persuade her. The offer was there and the choice had to be entirely hers.

She gazed appraisingly around our little group. I tried to guess what she was thinking. Was I blackmailing them? Forcing them into a sex cult? But no. She'd been chatting with them; they were strong, intelligent, fiercely independent women. They had greeted me the way that friends or lovers would, without any sign of reluctance or compulsion and, in Jane's case, as though an unrequited love was finally being returned.

She walked slowly forward. "I want whatever they are having," she said, slightly hesitantly. Then she smiled, seemingly realizing that she had paraphrased the line from When Harry Met Sally. She pressed herself close and embraced me. We savored the feel of each other's bodies before we finally kissed. "Slowly, Wendy," I cautioned her as we separated. "You've been hurt. These women will help you to heal, but Linda will kill me if I hurt you too."

She looked across to Angie and then Marie, trying to gauge their reactions. Obviously, neither seemed anything other than content to see this statuesque but emotionally vulnerable woman experiencing a moment of quiet intimacy. "I like this feeling," she admitted quietly. This time she initiated the kiss without hesitation then stepped away. "I think that I need to speak with Marie too."

The doors opened again; this time it was Tony followed by my special guests carrying their drinks, apart from Ken and Adrian who were assisting Charles. Tony's wife, Gail, followed with two more bottles of wine. I returned to Jo, as Tony and the five students began to rearrange the tables and chairs to face the small stage, and explained. "When Marie reminded me that it was your birthday, I remembered your fantasy. We played it out in front of Kate and Marie but teased you by offering a performance in front of all your friends." I saw realization start to dawn as I spoke. "But then," I continued. "It occurred to me that it would be an even bigger thrill for you in front of an audience with strangers in it." I took both hands in mine. "Did I misjudge? Will you accept this birthday gift from all of us?"

"But I'm old now, Geoff," she protested. "Who would want to see me naked?"

I caught Mark's eye and waved him across. He put down the chair he was moving and joined us. "Yes Geoff?" He asked, obviously trying not to stare at Jo.

"Mark," I said. "It was my intention that Jo would be part of the show tonight but she tells me that I've made a mistake because she's too old to be attractive."

His expression spoke volumes. "But;” Words seemed to fail him. When he finally recovered, he blurted out, "Me and the girls," I decided not to correct his grammar as he pointed to Alice and Tabby. "We were just saying how stunning you were."

I squeezed her hands gently. "No pressure Jo. No judgement; just this one chance to live out your fantasy in the safest space that we could create." I leaned in to kiss her forehead as she deliberated. "So, what will it be? Be that woman or always wonder how it might have felt?"

She stared at me thoughtfully and then turned to Mark. "Truthfully, Mark. Don't you find the idea of an old lady like me stripping, repulsive?"

Mark swallowed and shook his head vehemently. Before he could speak, I interrupted. "Jo. Was it your fantasy just to strip? That wasn't my impression."

"Well no," she answered. "It was to be like her; the woman who had sex in front of;” Her words trailed into silence as the final realization hit. She sought out Marie who had settled into a seat between Angie and Sue. My wife gave her a little wave and an encouraging smile.

"You're serious!" She gasped. I nodded in reply as Mark looked at her, pleadingly. "And you'd find that, what? Arousing?" She challenged him.

By now Mark was desperately worried that this might not be going to happen after all. "I'm halfway hard already, just thinking about it," he confessed. "Actually watching a real woman like you having sex in front of us would be amazing."

"I'm scared," she admitted, softly.

"I understand," I told her. "But think of this, Jo. 'Our greatest regrets in life tend not to be the things we did wrong or failed to achieve; but rather the missed opportunities or things we didn't do that we wish we had'. I can't remember where I heard that, but it has stayed with me for a long time."

She considered. "I'm still scared but;” She took a deep breath "I admit, part of me knows that if I pass this up I'll never forgive myself."

"Jo." I spoke quietly but urgently. "Think of it this way. Let this Jo, the uncertain Jo, just come along for the ride. Channel Josephine, the sexual being; the woman you wanted to be at that moment all those years ago. Let her take the lead. Say 'yes' and she's the woman I'll introduce."

She looked up at me, hesitated, and then, very softly, said, "Yes."

I regarded her carefully for any real signs of doubt. Seeing none, I signaled for Angie and Lucy to join us. "Girls. Would you attend to Josephine please." As they led her away, I directed a thumbs-up to Tony who locked the door, turned on the recently installed LED, dimmed the ceiling lights and began the mood music. Suddenly, the drab white room became a nightclub. The guests began talking quietly, the intimacy and anticipation in their conversations enhanced by the subdued mood lighting.

"Will she be okay?" Mark asked, possibly concerned that we had pushed too hard.

"Do you know?" I replied, "As soon as we begin, I'm certain she'll be fine."

He gave me a hopeful smile and returned to his friends. I spent a few moments talking to my wife and her pals before walking to the curtain at the back of the small stage, to find Lucy helping Jo adjust her new bra while Angie folded her clothes. Donning the silk dressing gown gifted by Megan, Jo threw her shoulders back and grinned at me.

She looked amazing. Yes, she was old enough to be Mark's gran but she was a proud, attractive, woman of color. I've said this before but it's worth repeating. Her Indian Afro Caribbean heritage has imbued her skin with a luscious café latte glow. Her features are perfect and her figure oozes femininity and sensuality. And that was the vision who stood before me that evening; about 5 foot 8, with C cup boobs; her shapely legs enhanced by heels; her revealing lingerie, chosen especially for this occasion, barely concealed by a short, near translucent, robe.

"I'm ready, Geoff," she told me, her voice low but steady.

Her nerves seemed to have been replaced with an intense eagerness to begin. I understood. "Mark was telling the truth. You look stunning. I'm going to go out now to introduce you. You make your entrance and after that I'll simply follow your lead. This is your fantasy. Just go for it."

"Thank you, Geoff. For remembering. For caring." She took another deep breath. "Now go, before I lose my nerve."

I strode to the front of our small stage and stood quietly. One by one our audience noticed me and the conversations died down; Tony took the cue and faded out the music. Expectation filled the silent room. "Ladies and gentlemen." I tried to pitch my voice to carry without sounding strident. "Welcome to the Black Swan Fantasy Club." I swept my gaze around our invited guests, hoping to catch everyone's eye; wanting them to feel included; complicit almost.

I carried on. "Tonight we are privileged to welcome a performer of spectacular beauty, and it is my pleasure, literally." I smiled and lifted my eyebrows knowingly; getting a ripple of nervous laughter from the audience. "To introduce the one, the only, the gorgeous; Josephine!" There was a discreet smatter of applause.

I stepped back and held out my hand, guiding Jo to her mark. Tony turned on our solo spotlight and faded the music back in. I scanned the sea of intent faces one last time. Marie seemed content; Angie and Lucy were rapt; Wendy and Jane seemed confused, I think they were expecting to see a strippagram for Jo. The rest of the girls seemed excited for their friend. Well this was it: the die was cast. I needed to focus entirely on Jo now. This was her show to choreograph. I was just the support act.

Jo acknowledged the audience and whispered, "Display me." Tony knew that the show was beginning and turned off the spot. What was to follow demanded subtle lights, red, blue and yellow tints to enhance the shadows created by her glorious curves.

I understood. Stepping behind her, I reached around to undo the simple belt fastened loosely around her waist. Her robe fell open. I slipped it off her shoulders, kissing the exposed skin as I went. Eventually, I let it fall. Jo stepped forward, arms raised and pirouetted, displayed her near-naked backside, the fulsome cheeks separated by little more than a shoestring.

As she swayed to the music, I bent and collected her robe, laying it on a chair to the side. When I turned back, she took my hand. "Your turn," she told me.

At least I had no choice to make now. Jo removed my tie and unbuttoned my shirt while I ran my hands down her flanks. She reached for my belt buckle and paused, turning to the front and putting her index finger to her mouth, in a faux innocent gesture, asking the audience for guidance. Tabby broke first. "Do it," she called out, possibly louder than she intended, and then looking sheepish.

Jo took her advice and unbuckled my belt, unfastened my top button and then, so slowly, unzipped my fly. She knelt in front of me, still holding my waistband and looked up. I got the message; I slipped my shoes off, glad that we'd anticipated how ridiculous socks would have been. By the time I stepped of my trousers, my briefs were thoroughly tented. Again, Jo looked to the audience for approval. "Oh, please God, stop teasing," came a plea. I think it was Jane's voice.

Very slowly and carefully, Jo pulled the elasticated band upwards and outwards to clear my erection and finally pulled my briefs to the floor. I stepped out. I was fully naked and totally erect now. Jo slowly closed her fist around my cock, gently massaging it up and down, all the time gazing submissively up at me. She paused and then looked around. Again, the naughty girl finger to the lip gesture; should she?

I followed her gaze. The men were interested, probably aroused but the women were entranced. I noticed Jane squirm in her seat, moistening her lips with her tongue, as if that would somehow influence Jo. Of course, she did it. Slowly her mouth engulfed me.

She dragged it out, tormenting the audience as much as me. Inevitably my hands were on her head: where else? But as she brought me closer I realized that I had to play my part too. Being just a passive prop was not going to be entertaining. I moved my hands from the sides of Jo's head to lace them behind her. I saw recognition in her eyes as she realized my intention. At this point she could have pushed me away. She chose not to. This was like dancing and she seemed content to follow my lead.

The audience gasped as I pushed my cock deep into my gorgeous Caribbean queen's mouth. I released her to let her breathe then pulled her even harder forcing myself even further into her throat. By the third stroke, her lips were touching my belly.

Of course, it was faked. Jo was in charge; I was just playing along. I knew from our previous encounter how capable she was at oral sex. I had no illusions of being significantly bigger than her late husband. We played like that for a couple of minutes before changing position.

I was still far from orgasm. Jo had resisted actually trying to bring me off. Like me, she was playing to the audience. Then it was my turn. I pulled her up and turned to face her audience. I unfastened her bra and slipped the straps down her shoulders. She crossed her arms across her chest, barely covering her dark chocolate nipples with the now unfastened lingerie.

"Circulate," I whispered in her ear. This was a private party; Jo's party. I wanted her to revel in the sensuality of revealing herself to strangers. She looked back at me for confirmation. I nodded. "Go. Tease them. Let them wish that they were you or could have you. Show them who Josephine really is."

Even in the dim light, the realization of what I was suggesting made her pupils widen even further. She smiled, turned and stepped off the stage. She stalked around the tables like a panther. Every man and woman in turn was treated to a private view of her tits as she went. Young Mark was particularly blessed as she sat astride his legs, dropped her bra and pulled his face into her cleavage. Gently raising his head, she further rewarded him with a soul melting kiss that, I guarantee, had him on the verge of ejaculating. She moved on, touching Tabby and Alice’s faces leaving them open mouthed as she took Emily's hand and took it to her tit. Adrian smiled at his girlfriend's gasp of excitement.

Eventually, Jo returned to the stage. I led her to the chair and slowly pulled the thong down her legs. She raised each leg in turn, exposing herself as I carefully pulled the waistband over her heels.

Naked now, I had her sit in the chair. I bent between her legs and lapped at her lower lips and clit. Delicious though it was, I didn't spend too long there, my purpose was twofold; to get her nice and wet, and to let the women in our audience have a fantasy to savor. Jo responded, possibly more vocally than my efforts justified, but I could tell that her arousal was real. Mine, of course, was clearly apparent.

It was time for a change of position. I stood and helped to her feet.. Again, I turned her to the audience and stepped behind her. I bent to kiss the side of her neck. "Lift your left leg and put your foot on the seat of the chair," I whispered in her ear.

She understood and, reaching down and back with her right arm to use me for support, she slowly and lasciviously did as I suggested, exposing herself completely to our guests. I played my part by steadying her by holding her tits. Once she was settled, I bent and rubbed the end of my cock along her vulva, lubricating myself. I heard gasps from beyond the lights. We'd already gone too far, I assumed someone was thinking, surely we wouldn't actually.

We did. I slipped slowly and carefully inside my Josephine, easing out and then sliding a little deeper each time. In no time at all, I was embedded to the root. The atmosphere in the room was electric, the only sound was the mood music from our speaker. Everyone was deathly silent as we stood like statues, conjoined.

Then Jo pushed back against me with her bum. It was time to deliver. I started to stroke in and out. I needed to make it look good, my pleasure was not a priority just then. I used long slow strokes so the audience could see as much cock as possible. That was the plan, anyway.

Jo was on fire though. She was already aroused beyond belief before I even entered her and my cock plunging into her from behind took her to the edge and beyond in only a few minutes, certainly before I was quite there. Not one to waste an opportunity, I helped my unsteady-legged lover into the chair and faced her, side on to the crowd. I pulled her head towards me and she understood. This time she went for it. This time was for my benefit not the audience's. This time there was tongue and suction and this time, in inly minutes, I came.

I had considered ejaculating in her mouth but, erotic as that may have been for me, spectacle was more important. At the last moment, I pulled out and jizzed over her throat and chest. There was a gasp as the crowd saw the opalescent fluid reflecting the colored lights from the spots. Jo, largely recovered from her own orgasm now, turned towards them and collected a gobbet on her finger, idly inspecting it before slowly and deliberately sucking the digit clean.

She repeated her promenade, naked this time and wearing my semen like a badge of honor. She stopped at Marie's table and bent towards my wife. Marie reached forward and caressed Jo's tit also teasing a smear of my sperm on her finger. My wife, however, stared meaningfully at me and then turned towards Jane, sitting diagonally behind her, offering my seed.

Jane recognized the significance of Marie's gesture; it was not lost on the rest of the coven either. Jane, the widow of a good friend of mine accepted my wife's gift and, by fellating Marie's finger and ingesting my semen, became one of them.

Jo moved on, offering herself everyone in the room. The girls, her friends, all gave her a gentle caress. Her tit, her bum, her belly, her cheek. Angie and Lucy, of course, partook, as did the others. Wendy seemed entranced as Jo approached her. Jo bent and whispered something to the younger woman, then softly kissed her lips. Jo moved on then, leaving Wendy looking rather dazed and confused.

Now it was Ken's turn. Jo took his hand and looking to Cath for approval slowly took it to her mound. I saw a flash of concern on his face as he seemed to be pulling away; until Cath put her hand on top of Jo's and guided him to my lover's slit. As his hand reached her junction, Jo pulled Cath in for a kiss. Ken couldn't complain. Four of the coven routinely kissed him out of sheer mischief; and then, with his wife's approval, I'd unleashed a naked Lucy on him.

In time Jo moved to Tony and Gail. Gail appeared mesmerized by the residue on Jo's tits. Jo nodded approvingly as Gail stooped to suckle. Tony received the same invitation as Ken. Tony, emboldened by his wife's actions, did not resist. After a minute, Jo pulled Gail upright and kissed her too. Taking Tony's hand, the one that had touched so intimately, she offered it to Gail. The audience sat entranced as she licked Jo's essence from her husband's fingers.

Then onto Mike and his two lovely women. The show repeated, only this time with a woman on each tit. This time it was Mike, though, who Jo graced with a kiss.

Back to Charles, Jo kneeling so that he could bury his head in her bosom and then; Then finally to the youngest members of the audience. Mark seemed almost paralyzed with trepidation as his mature fantasy woman approached him again. For the second time that evening she straddled his lap, this time naked. This time she kissed him, lifting his hands to her tits as she leaned in. For Mark, whatever sexual experience he had up until that evening, few could have matched the intensity of this exotic beauty toying with him in front of an audience.

Again Jo guided a man's hand to her cunt to pleasure her but this time she offered his finger to Tabby to savor. Entranced, the younger woman sucked his fingers clean until Alice, almost as quiet as Emily begged, "Please me too."

Giving an angelic smile, Jo moved to stand beside the girl. She parted her legs and cocked her head at the young woman. Alice understood. Tenderly, gently she reached forward and ran the back of her forefinger down Jo's neatly trimmed curls. As if in a dream, Alice continued her exploration, causing Jo to moan in appreciation. After a few moments, Alice hesitantly offered her finger to Mark. Without pausing to think, he too savored Jo's essence.

Finally, she approached Adrian and Emily. Adrian pointed to the floor and Emily obediently knelt beside him. I watched fascinated as Adrian spoke quietly to Jo. She seemed to agree to some request and then he instructed Emily. The entire room drew breath as the younger woman turned and buried her mouth in Jo's cleft.

Jo reached out to the table to steady herself. Mark, seeing how affected she was, stood and put his arms around her waist. She moaned and moved one of his hands to her tit. Mark's groin was pressed against Jo's naked bum cheeks and I would have wagered my pension that he came at the same time that Jo did.

While everyone's attention was elsewhere, I set out the yoga mats on the floor, center stage. I finished before Jo did, though I'm certain that she had more fun. Mark helped me to guide her back to the stage where I laid on my back on the mats. Jo understood. She straddled me reverse-cowgirl style, facing our spectators, carefully feeding my rigid cock into her warm wet place.

The first time that I had fucked her that night, it was clear what was happening; this time though, it was clinically explicit. My balls on display, my erect cock sliding in and out between Jo's engorged nether lips, her juices glistening in the dim lighting.

Four or five minutes she rode me like that, alternating between sliding back and forth and raising and lowering herself onto me. This time I felt her start to pulse around me so, needing to make my own contribution, I added my efforts to hers. Yes, we played up the vocals, but the climaxes were as genuine as it gets. I felt the warm burn along the length of my cock and thanked my good fortune for the chemical the allowed me to replenish my sperm so quickly; the latest 10 c c currently spurting deep inside Jo.

I lay spent, supporting Jo by the shoulders as she slumped backward with her hands on my thighs. We were both breathing heavily and glazed with sweat. I knew, Hell we all knew, that was it for the night. After a minute or so, I felt my cock slip out of her adorable snug tunnel, and the warm wetness that followed reminded me that our audience was now witnessing my sperm oozing from my lover's cunt. I thought that wrapped the show up rather nicely.

After another minute, Jo rallied and gestured to her new best friend, Mark to help her up. It says much about the maligned youth of today that he managed without any inappropriate touching; not, I suspect, that Jo would have been offended. On a related note, no-one offered to help me up, but there you go.

I took Jo's hand and we faced our friends. Tony anticipated my look and turned on the spot. The music faded. "Ladies and gentlemen," I announced. "Thank you on behalf of myself and our special guest performer tonight; The gorgeous; Josephine!"

The audience applauded enthusiastically as we took our bows then as the applause tailed off Tony turned the music back up and killed the spot. We bowed one last time and retired to the back of the stage.

As we wiped ourselves clean with the baby wipes that Marie and Angie had thoughtfully provided, Jo thanked me for letting her live out her lifelong fantasy. "I don't want to do that again," she admitted. "But that was so exhilarating. Thank you, Geoff," She stood up on tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

"Put my husband down, you hussy," came a voice from behind me. Jo reached up again and pulled me into another, this time lingering, defiant kiss.

"How was it, sweetheart?" My wife asked her friend, fondly.

"Oh, God, Marie. My heart was pounding; every sense was heightened; if this is what drugs make you feel like, I can almost understand people getting hooked."

"You were magnificent, dear." Marie turned to me. "You too, my love. Only now there are a few more women out there I may have to watch out for. But, anyway. Hurry up and get dressed. We're taking Jane back to ours for a couple of hours before she has to go home."

I favored my wife with a Number 3 look from my new repertoire, horrified befuddlement, and noticed that it concerned her not at all. "Is there any point?" I grumbled, pulling my trousers on. "It's not as though they'll be on that long."

"Don't be difficult darling," Marie chided me. "Jane has been a cock free zone for a decade and I think she's ready to climb back into the saddle."

"If I had said that about a woman," I chuntered to myself as I put on my shirt. "I'd be crucified by militant feminists but, just because I've got a cock, it's bloody open season on me."

"Dear oh Lord, Geoffrey," she sighed in exasperation, and don't think that the use of my Sunday name was lost on me. "I'm taking you home to have sex with a woman nearly twenty years younger than you. Are you really going to bitch about it?"

Jo watched our exchange in amusement as she also started to get dressed. "She is very pretty," Jo reminded me.

I had to admit, however grudgingly, that she was right. Jane had the sort of features that advertisers dream about to sell to mature women. Pretty, but not so glamorous that their looks seemed unattainable. Jane was who they could possibly be with the right cosmetics. Personally, I just thought that she was really cute.

I slipped my shoes on and picked up my jacket. Marie had already rescued my tie. Marie and I both kissed Jo goodbye, with my wife assuring her that Angie had promised to see her and her birthday presents home safely.

I returned to our guests. They had all apparently decided to stay in the function room where they could talk openly about our little entertainment, rather than have to speak in guarded whispers in the lounge downstairs. There also seemed to be an atmosphere of fellowship developing. Charles was talking to Emily about engineering; Adrian and Lucy seemed to be deeply engaged in an argument about texture, color and shape in art; Wendy and Jane appeared to be receiving the official briefing about the coven from Angie while Megan was giving a more edited version to our other guests.

I looked round feeling rather content. Who would have thought a live sex show between a couple of children of the sixties could be such a successful networking opportunity?

Tony came over to shake my hand and thank me for being allowed to join us. I rather suspected that he regretted that he couldn't run more evenings in the same vein, but he knew he'd lose the regulars. We both realized that popping down the pub is one thing, but wives were significantly more likely to object to their men popping down to the pub on live sex night. On the other hand.

Marie was by then talking to Mike, Becky and Ruth. The other two women expressing their appreciation for the example my wife had set in sharing me with her friends. I probably should have been offended, but I understood their sentiments. When I joined them, they were discussing our prospective wedding. Becky was keen to do something similar but was concerned that we might be upset at them copying us. In fact, Marie suggested that they should use our ceremony as an opportunity to select the elements that they wanted to include in their own. We certainly wouldn't be offended.

And then it was time. Signaling for Jane to join us, We waved goodbye to our friends and we left.

 Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.