Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 8

Feel The Force

Geoff faces some peculiar challenges.

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

Angie arrived in time for tea on Tuesday evening and, being a math genius, helped Colin with his math homework. Well why waste an opportunity like that? Marie politely declined our invitation to join us at the pub later that evening for two reasons; first, it was likely to be a very nerdy conversation and she'd just feel marginalized; second, it was likely to involve a discussion of submissive lifestyles, something she really doesn't really engage with: She prefers Angie as a playmate rather than a plaything.

So anyway, she thought it would be better for all concerned if it were only Emily, Adrian, Angie and me involved. Truth be told, she had the latest Richard Osman book to start, and she fancied a quiet night in.

We watched the first episode of The Mandalorian before we left for the pub and I'm sure that my wife enjoyed it even more than her muted, "I suppose it was okay." suggested.

We arrived just before the kids and I got the beer in; All four of us were drinking pints of locally made IPA. We settled down and just caught up before we got down to business. Adrian had made some discrete enquiries and the University's Department of Fashion Design would be interested in creating costumes for our guests if we would be prepared to underwrite the cost of the materials. Angie agreed without even asking how much.

I glanced at her and she just frowned and shook her head. "Not now Geoff."

When we described Marie's fascination with a Bo-Katan outfit, Emily got quite excited. It turned out that she was on an engineering course and looking for a CAD (computer aided design) project for her coursework. She would love to create Mandalorian armor components in either aluminum or polymer but they would need painting.

Angie and I looked at each other and spoke together. "Lucy!" Yes. One of our little sex circle is a talented professional artist.

Then Adrian raised the issue of Intellectual Property Rights. He was concerned that Lucas Films or Disney or someone would sue the University for I P R infringement. Again, in chorus, "Megan!" Yes. Tomorrow night, Marie and I would be entertaining a well-respected solicitor. It wouldn't be something I'd be discussing during her visit, but I was rather hoping that we would have her feeling particularly well disposed towards us before she went home to Charles.

We also chatted about our costume or character debate but the kids couldn't help us to decide either. Talking about costumes eventually led us, reasonably neatly, to Angie's collar and what it represented. Angie tried to explain. To be fair, it was much as Marie had described to Emily on Sunday.

"Sometimes," she said. "There's just so much in my life, in my head, that I just need to turn it right down. When I submit to Geoff, I give myself entirely to him. My problems just don't matter anymore; I am entirely his to control. Wearing his collar just symbolizes that. But," she paused and looked intently at the young couple. "It only works because I trust Geoff implicitly. If he ordered me to humiliate myself, here now, then I probably would, and that thought alone strangely excites me. But," she paused again. "At the same time, I feel safe in his power because I know that he would ever do anything that would hurt my body, my mind or my reputation."

That's when Emily spoke up. "I think that's how I feel sometimes. As a woman, a shy woman at that, on an engineering course, sometimes it feels so; so; intense. Having somebody to take that weight off me, even just for a while, sounds so appealing." I was proud of the girl.

Angie smiled. "Yes, sweetheart. It's like meditation. Losing yourself in the moment." Then the smile morphed into her muckiest grin. "But the orgasms are so much better our way."

Adrian sat quietly, just listening. "Do you understand, Geoff?" He asked. "I want to, but I feel a bit lost."

It was a hard question to answer but I admired the lad for asking it, so I did my best. "Emotionally, No. I don't understand. The same way that I can't 'understand' being gay. It's personal and probably even individuals with the same inclinations experience them in their own way. But I do try to understand what Angie needs from me. So, while I will only do things that I'm okay with, they're mainly for her benefit, not mine. Does that make sense?"

"I suppose so," he admitted, as the girls looked on hopefully.

"Angela." I looked at her. "Did you bring your collar?"

She beamed at me. "Yes sir. May I put it on?"

"You may." I allowed.

She reached into her bag and took her gold collar from its box and turned so that Emily could fasten it for her. Adrian sat quietly watching and Emily's hands were trembling as she helped. Her chest was rising and falling in a most intriguing way too.

"Angela. You and Emily are to go to the ladies' room now. When you return, neither of you will be wearing underwear. Do you both understand?" They both nodded. "Then go." I instructed them. We watched as two pair, both in skirts and sweaters, bolted towards the ladies' loos.

I turned back to Adrian. "The issue I have is finding new things that she wants me to tell her that she has to do. I have to retain Angie's respect and affection because, well because I love her. But, at the same time I have to push her boundaries or else I'll disappoint her. The thing is, I'm not a natural Dom. I do it only for Angie's benefit. I really have no pool of experience to draw on."

"So where do you get your ideas from, Geoff?" he asked.

"There are a few websites that publish stories that include submissive fantasies." I explained. "I read through them to find ideas that might excite Angie without going too far." I thought for a moment. "I suspect that Emily may well be far more engaged than even Angie is. Would you be prepared to be her master?" I looked him in the eye. "I know she likes you. I think that she trusts you too. Are you interested enough to take on that responsibility though? are you worthy?"

He mused. "You seem to be acting as a surrogate Dad." He was obviously thinking it through. "I don't suppose though that this is a normal father boyfriend chat though, is it? He alternated between voices;

'What are your intentions towards my daughter?'

'Well, I'm going to tell her to do sexually perverted things and spank her if she displeases me.'

'Well, that's great son. Welcome to the family'."

I conceded the point. "So?"

"Actually, I've wanted to ask her out for a while, but I enjoy her company so much that I was afraid to spoil the friendship we already have. If I do ask her out, then she'll have to guide me how to be a good Dom."

"Here's my first bit of advice," I offered. "Agree in advance what are your boundaries, lines that won't be crossed. Will you give her to other men as a sex toy? I couldn't do that to Angie. I'd hope you wouldn't do it to Emily. She might, or might not, be excited at the thought that you could, though. How do you deal with that?"

He shook his head. "Fuck! aren't women complicated?" He stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to him. "You realize that when they come back, if Emily's complied, that means that she has submitted to you?"

"Okay," I stretched the word out, wondering where he was going.

"Then yes. I'll be her Dom. But I think that if she has submitted to you tonight, it makes sense that you should give her to me. Pass over the mantle, as it were."

"You sneaky little fucker!" I complimented him. "You may just be a natural at this. Heads up! They're coming back."

The two women returned and went to sit down. I checked to see if there was anyone taking notice but the pub was still fairly quiet apart from a group of lads playing pool in the far corner; and they were making enough noise to keep our conversation private.

"Stop!" I spoke quietly but firmly. "Who told you to sit down?"

"No-one, Sir," Angie replied, looking chastened.

"Then stand in front of your master until you are given permission." I ordered.

"Yes sir," said Angie.

"Sorry sir," said Emily, breathing heavily again.

"Are you still wearing underwear?" I asked them both.

"No sir," they replied at the same time.

"Who do you belong to?" I directed this to Angie.

You and only you sir." she responded.

"That's better. You may sit now," I told her. She thanked me and took her seat.

"Who do you belong to?" This time aimed at Emily.

"You and only you sir. If you'll have me," she replied, looking hopefully at me.

"I have no time to train another sub," I told her. She looked devastated. "I think instead I shall give you to Adrian to play with. Do you want her Adrian? Can you think of games to play with your new toy?"

Emily was almost quivering with excitement as she waited for his answer. He looked her up and down. "She's a pretty thing," he admitted. He took his time before he answered, dragging out her suspense. "Yes, Geoff. Give her to me and I'll look after her."

"Emily. You belong to Adrian now. Please him as you would have pleased me. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," she gasped. I suspected that she'd been on the verge of a minor orgasm, just standing there listening to us discussing her ownership.

Then Adrian took over. "Emily. Who do you belong to?"

"You sir, and only you." she answered, breathlessly.

"Then sit quietly while I decide how to play with you." She thanked him and sat next to Angie.

"Adrian?" That was me. "Do you think that our toys would like to play with themselves?" Both girls gasped.

"Does it really matter, Geoff?" He replied. The girls sat rigid with anticipation. "Emily, put your hand between your thighs," he instructed her. "Touch your cunt."

The atmosphere at the table was electric. Ever so slowly Emily's tiny hand crept under the hem of her skirt. Angie, watching, licked her lips. Suddenly Emily stiffened in her seat. We had a fair idea of where her hand had reached.

"Angela. Touch yourself the same way. You may come, but make no noise." I told her, firmly. She too put her hand under her skirt. Adrian added the same instructions to Emily and then we sat and watched, looking around periodically to make sure that our little play was going unobserved, until Emily and then Angie shuddered quietly and sank back in their seats. The smell of their sex was noticeable by then, so I suggested that we send them to the loos again, this time to mop up their lady juice and put their pants back on.

While they were gone, Adrian and I discussed some practicalities that two novices like us needed to deal with. One example was putting the girls into Sub mode and then recovering them. In my case, telling Angela to remove her collar worked, but the collar wasn't a pre-requisite; I could dominate her with my tone of voice alone. We also needed a voice command to release them. Adrian had an inspired idea. "We'll just tell them that when we say, 'you are released' they will have independent will again." I told you he was smart.

When they got back we gave the girls their new command and they reluctantly resumed their normal demeanor, though Emily's eyes had a sparkle I'd not seen before. Angie leaned over the table so only the four of us could hear. "Geoff," she whispered. "That was so fucking HOT. I'm going to ask Marie if I can give you a proper seeing-to tonight." Emily giggled, not repelled, as I thought she might be, at the thought of wrinklies like us 'doing it.'

"Well," I said. "Not to put a damper, as it were, on things. But do you have any wet-wipes in your bag? Your seats could do with a little attention."

We chatted some more before Angie and I decided to leave the youngsters to come to their own understanding. The two women had seemed to be happy sharing their secret desire with someone else who understood. Adrian and I'd had our own chat about the moral challenges involved in dictating someone else's sexual activity. Although I had no business really, I did feel somewhat paternalistic towards Emily but I thought that she had chosen wisely with Adrian. I hoped that I was right but, short of keeping her to myself, it wasn't my decision to make.

We got home a little before ten, to find that Marie had three coffee cups prepared ready for our return. As we drank, Angie excitedly updated Marie on the plans for our ceremony and even more excitedly described what Adrian and I had made her and Emily do in the pub. "Can we take him to bed and fuck him now, Marie?" She pleaded. "I'm so horny that my knickers are damp."

Marie picked up her book and found where her bookmark was. "You two go now and I'll finish this chapter, tidy the kitchen and then join you." She smiled at us both and then added. "And, Geoff. Take one of your tablets 'cos that story got my knickers damp too."

Sometimes we like to take turns to make love, but that evening the girls were on a mission. Even before Marie made it to the bedroom, Angie had swallowed so much of my cock that her nose was touching my belly. She'd pulled away before I was too close to finishing and hauled me on top of her. When I tried to return the compliment, she seemed almost annoyed.

"No fucking way," she told me, in no uncertain terms. "You stick that cock in me this minute and pound me until you come. I'm so fucking turned on I just want you inside me." Well, how could I have argued with a charming invitation like that?

Marie arrived just in time to hear Angie yelling, "Yes, yes, fucking yes!" as I approach my climax. To be honest, I'm not sure whether she came or not. That didn't seem to be her objective just then. To use the vernacular, I think she just needed a good dicking.

After a couple of minutes cuddling, we calmed down enough to welcome Marie into our embrace and the next ninety minutes or so were only a little less, shall we say, physical. There was kissing this time though. The girls lay face to face as I took Marie from behind until we came and then Angie laid between my wife's thighs as I took her from behind and then Marie rode my cock as Angie straddled my face and they groped each other. By the time we'd cleaned up and settled down, just before midnight, I was content that Angie, and Marie, had both at least come a couple of times.

Angie left after breakfast on Wednesday morning. There was some pleasant snuggling and kissing before we all got up but the girls had decided that we should remain fairly chaste because Marie and I were entertaining Megan and Sam that evening and little Geoffrey might need time to recuperate from his efforts the night before. I reluctantly agreed but 'he' wasn't happy at all. But I knew we'd make it up to him that evening.

Marie and I did some housework that morning, to prepare for our guests. We changed the bedding and made sure that all the toys were clean and sanitized. (We always do, both before we put them away and before we have guests again.) Marie had an early lunch before she went into town to the charity shop where she had offered to cover a lunchtime shift.

I had a lunch date with Jane, the widow of an old friend. She's a pleasantly rounded lady, a little taller than my wife with black hair, brown eyes and an engaging personality. We had agreed to meet the previous week but she'd had to cancel. I hoped everything was okay. We met in a local café as I felt as though I'd spent a lot of time in the pub of late. I was already in the queue when she came in so I ordered two lattes and a couple of slices of carrot cake while she claimed an empty table for two.

We chatted amicably for nearly an hour. Apparently, she'd had to postpone our last meeting because Ben, her 19 year old son, had been unwell and she would have felt guilty leaving him. I liked Ben so I was relieved to hear that he was recovered and back at work. We talked about his job, which he hated, and his other options, which were limited. It was odd; he was deceptively bright but his quiet nature and succinct way of speaking led some people to think he was, well, a bit dim. Let's be honest here: His interview technique sucked. I promised to give some thought to careers where, should we say, he might shine more brightly in a solo capacity. We moved on.

Jane told me that she'd enjoyed meeting Marie the previous week and lamented that they couldn't see more of each other. I just kept quiet at that point. She then showed some self-awareness that surprised me. "I think Marie was disappointed at some of the gossip I shared with her. Did I offend her?" She asked.

I had to be honest. "Well, my work used to involve commercially sensitive information, Marie used to provide pastoral support to her students and some of her friends in the health or legal professions have similar experiences. We just aren't used to sharing information about folk that might embarrass them."

She looked shocked. "Oh, dear. And now she can't share any girl talk with me because she'll be afraid it'll be all over town in an hour?" I shrugged, but she was right; that was exactly how my wife felt. "Do apologize for me, won't you?" She asked. "I was never that woman but, just lately, there's so little of interest in my life that I seem to live vicariously through other people's."

I asked if she was seeing anyone. She smiled. "Would you be jealous?" She asked, playfully.

I replied in kind. "Devastated, my dear. But my love for you would only hold you back."

She shook her head. "If only, Geoff. If I could persuade Marie to share, I would be a very happy girl." Oh Jane! If only you knew.

I persisted but she was adamant that she had no appetite for on-line dating and gorgeous single men rarely turned up at her door, so she was left to her own devices. I asked her how many devices she actually owned. She looked horrified for a moment and then we both lost it in a fit of the giggles. When we'd composed ourselves, and the other patrons had stopped staring at the pair of us, she admitted that she was tempted to buy a plastic pal but didn't know how or where to start.

I looked at her. "If you are serious, would you go in an adult store if someone took you? I mean it, but this must go no further."

She sat back, speechless. "Who?" She eventually managed to say.

"Let's see," I replied. I sent a text to Marie. "Jane lonely. Wants to buy sex toy but too shy. Can I take her to naughty shop? Do you want to come too to keep us out of mischief?"

I changed the subject to ask about her plans for Christmas but she seemed distracted. It took three or four minutes for Marie's reply. "We've had a no-show. If I cover, you take Jane now. Be home for half past three. BEHAVE! xxx"

I showed Jane the message. She looked flustered. I cocked an eyebrow at her in a way that Roger Moore would have been proud of. "Well?"

She leaned across the table. "Are you telling me that Marie is okay with you taking me to a," she mouthed the words. "Sex Shop?"

"Why not?" I asked, in my most reasonable voice. "If I take you shopping to Tesco it doesn't mean you have to cook for me. So taking you to that shop has no implications either. It's just a shop. You'll just have to rely on me being discreet." I couldn't resist a little dig. To be fair she took it on the chin.

"I deserved that; didn't I?" She took a deep breath. It did interesting things to her blouse. Nope! Stop. Not going there.

Her face, always attractive, was a picture now. A blend of excitement, anticipation and I think a touch of hunger. Or it could have been wind. "Geoff, if you've ever cared about me at all, please, please, can we go shopping?"

I texted my wife on the way to the car. "Going shopping ; ) "

Her reply was almost instantaneous. A thumbs up and a big cheesy grin.

The atmosphere in the car was electric. Now we were alone we could speak openly. "I'm excited and scared at the same time," Jane admitted. Then she thought for a moment. "What if someone sees me and talks?" She saw my glance and had the decency to look sheepish.

"We're not buying drugs you know. It's a shop where grown-ups can spend their own money on things that will make them, or someone else, happy." I risked another glance. Oh shit. Her nipples were sticking out like little bullets. "This is why we don't gossip. Here you are, desperate to do something that affects no-one else but you. But you're concerned that someone you know will find out and judge you. That can't be right."

"No," she conceded. "But you'll know Geoff. What must you think of me?"

I thought for a moment. "Let’s be clinical here. In every supermarket that I go into there are shelves full of feminine hygiene products. I know what they do and where they go. Every child we pass represents two people having had sex at least once. Thus, I know that women have cunts and people who have children have had sex. Why then," I posed the question. "should I have issues with you buying a silicone rubber cock substitute that's going exactly the same place as the tampons?" I couldn't resist adding mischievously, "only deeper, faster and repeatedly."

She squealed in horrified shock at my words. Then she looked levelly at me. "If; No, when I buy one, I'm going to ask Marie if I can call it Geoffrey. Do you think she'd mind?"

I considered for a moment. "I think she'll be okay with that. Just do me a favor and try to ask her when you know we're at home."

Jane looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Well," I replied, "mainly because that's where she keeps her clean knickers and she'll probably piss herself laughing."

After a few quiet minutes as Jane digested our conversation, she spoke again. "You noticed that my nipples are hard, didn't you?"

"Jane, a motorcyclist passed us going in the opposite direction at over ninety and I'm almost fucking certain he noticed."

She was quiet for another minute. "Did Marie tell you about our conversation?" She asked.

I waited until I'd passed the car in front, chuntering about drivers ten years younger than me driving as if they were in their eighties, then I replied. "No. Not in detail. She said you were both okay with the flirting."

She smiled to herself. "I told Marie that I was comfortable with it because I knew that you liked me, you know, that way, but that you wouldn't cheat on her. In Cosmo speak I suppose that you validate me as a desirable woman but you don't threaten me." She stared out of the window for a minute. "Geoff, I told your wife that I'd let you fuck me if you wanted to, but only if it was okay with her. I miss him so much and I couldn't live with myself if Marie lost you because of me."

She fumbled in her bag for a tissue. "So here we are." She wiped her eyes. "I'm too insecure to look for another man and you're driving me to a sex shop to buy a silicone substitute for, well, you. It's a funny old life, isn't it?" We both started giggling again.

We spent most of the rest of the journey laughing and joking about sex toys. Until I asked Jane if she could understand the appeal of nipple clamps and she went strangely quiet before making an unexpected suggestion. "Perhaps that's not a conversation for a car with nice fabric seats."

"Why n?" I began. "Oh. I see. Sorry. There are more tissues in the glove box if you need them. I promise to keep my eyes on the road." She shook her head.

I stopped talking after that, until we arrived.

The guy behind the counter must have recognized me, at least judging by the double take when he saw I was with yet another woman, this time one in her forties. Jane asked quietly what I would recommend. I suggested that, as a soloist, she could probably miss out the aisles of clothing, straps and fripperies designed to titillate.

"Dildos, vibrators and lube I'd focus on, in your place," I advised. "Oh and some dedicated cleaning products. I always worry that ordinary household cleaners might be a bit aggressive for; those special little places." her face colored beautifully as I cheerfully discussed the cleaning regime for toys she was going to buy to stick in her cunt. Still, if one was going to be named after me, I wanted only the best for him.

I watched with a pang of regret as this lovely but lonely woman browsed the shelves for a substitute for the man she lost all those years ago. I'm sure that we could persuade my wife to let me just bed Jane, but we had an agreement and Jane wasn't part of it. Anyway, she deserved a man of her own. The other women, apart from Sam, were settled in their lives; Jane was twenty years younger and her son would soon, I hoped, find someone to start his own home with. I imagined Sam would probably start looking for someone new one day too, when the hurt went away.

Anyway, getting maudlin wasn't helping anyone, so I got on with my task of making Jane as uncomfortable as possible. "There are some pink vibrating silicone ass plugs over here with a little bulb to stimulate your perineum. Are you interested?" I asked innocently. She flushed and just glared at me while trying desperately not to start giggling again.

"I suppose," I ventured. "That, as we're still in the novice stage, then perhaps we should shelve the back-door options for future shopping trips and concentrate on your vaginal pleasure." She got even more red. When I added, "Oh, and from your response in the car, nipple clamps are a must." I thought she was going to attack me.

She must have decided to retaliate in kind. Good. I was teasing her to bring her out of her shell. "Geoff?" She asked, sweetly. "Could you choose a dildo for me about your size and shape? You know. Just in case Marie ever does give you a pass. Then it wouldn't be such a shock to my system."

I gave her my best self-effacing smile and leaned towards her. "They keep those out the back so as not to upset the other customers." She got the giggles again.

Jane punched my arm. "I'm serious. I don't want a stupidly big toy. I just want something that makes me think of you." She looked awkward. "Is that awful? It would be terribly creepy if a man said it to me. Have I offended you?"

I decided to use my initiative and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. She looked stunned but soon recovered. I'd apologize to Marie later if I had to but I thought that Jane needed reassuring. "I'm not offended. I'm flattered. I'll go and look for a tiny one then." I grinned at her and strolled off to look. As I browsed, one of my weird little ideas popped into my head. I'd follow up on that later. Now I had to decide how honest I was prepared to be.

In the end I found one that looked sort of familiar. Not the smallest in the range but not even close to the largest. It even had balls and a suction base. "Here, Jane. This is me. I'll even buy it as my gift to you."

She looked at me, appraisingly. " I believe you. I'm sure some men would go an inch or more bigger, but you're being honest; aren't you?"

"Why lie?" I shrugged. "It's served me well. As long as it makes Marie happy then I'm satisfied too."

She gave me a hug and whispered, "Thanks for the kiss too. That was kind."

We finished shopping and went to the till. She had the rubber Geoffrey, a vibrating clitoral stimulator and a rechargeable rabbit. She also had some low residue alcohol wipes and a water based lube. She just couldn't resist and, despite my teasing, she eventually blew thirty quid on a set of app-controlled vibrating nipple clamps. Literally everything nowadays seems to come with Bluetooth. All she needed now was a Netflix chick flick and some wine and chocolates and she was all set for a quiet night in, except for the buzzing of course.

We chatted amicably enough on the way home but Jane seemed distracted. "Am I an awful person?" She eventually asked me.

She sounded serious so I decided not to be facetious. "I don't think so. Why did you even ask?"

She was staring out of the window but I'm not sure that she was seeing, if you know what I mean. "If we had just been driving past that shop and I'd seen someone I knew coming out;” She hesitated.

"Go on," I prompted her.

"I think I might have shared what I'd seen. In confidence, of course." She looked guiltily at me. "But that just means 'don't say who told you'; doesn't it."

"Yes, I suppose so or, at least that's how some people choose to interpret it. To me, 'in confidence' means I need to know but the information stops with me. If it's something I don't need to know then don't tell me. There are things that even Marie and I don't share because we've promised to hear something in confidence and the other doesn't need to know."

She looked ashamed. "So, because my life is so fucking boring," Her tone and choice of words surprised me. "I can take a malicious glee in being shocked by people with actual lives doing actual things that are, you know, unconventional. But the fucking minute a real person takes me somewhere even a little bit bloody interesting, then I'm cowering like a fucking kitten in case some no-life cunt, just like me, blows the whistle and outs me!"

She looked across, probably to see how shocked I was. Not at all, I think you'd find. "Feel better now?" I commented.

"Fuck, yes." Came the happy reply. "Is that how you talk to your friends, Geoff?" She asked.

"Of course not, sweetheart," I reassured her. "Only the ones that say they'd let me fuck them." She beamed cheerfully at my answer.

I dropped Jane off at her house just before three, kissed her soundly on the lips, just to get her motor running, I told her, and packed her off inside to play for an hour before Ben got back.

My wife was in when I got home. "Well?" She prompted.

I considered. "I think I'm in with a chance there." I offered.

"Idiot! You do realize she rang me the moment you drove off don't you?"

I acknowledged that the thought had occurred to me. "So," I asked. "Can she?"

Marie was too bright to fall for that. "Can she what?" She countered. "Can she sleep with you?" She seemed a bit sad before she continued. "No. Or; at least, not yet. Can she call her new bed mate Geoffrey? Definitely. Do you know? She actually sent me a photo of him. You were being very modest there, Geoff."

I shrugged, "Well, one doesn't want to brag."

"Anything else you want to share?"

"Ah. Is this about the kisses?"

"Did I hear a plural in that sentence, Geoffrey?"

"Indeed you did, my little pit-viper. A kiss in the shop to reassure her that she hadn't offended me with a comment about my cock, and a bit of a snog in the car for inspiration for her playtime. And, before counsel for the plaintiff gets too uppity, I refer the court's attention to Exhibit 1, viz. Ken the taxi driver. In fact, at the current rate of exchange in a quid pro quo, I estimate the appellant to be in credit to the tune of a full snog and a tit grope through clothing."

She stared at me through narrowed eyes and then conceded. "Well played. We withdraw our grievance."

I gave my gorgeous little fuck-bunny a big hug and then we chatted about our plans for the evening as we worked together in the kitchen to prepare an early tea.

By six forty five, we were showered, dressed and ready to receive visitors. Tonight we were hosting language lessons (Ha!) for Megan, a retired solicitor and Samantha, an NHS paramedic.

I've known Megan for a while and though the oldest of Marie's immediate circle, she has aged well. About 5 foot 9, with shoulder length honey blonde hair; her tits, I can personally attest, still stand proud, possibly because as a generous B Cup, they match her slender frame without the gravitational issues that some more ample women face. I have also seen her almost naked when she and Marie modelled their purchases from when they shopped while I discussed the nuances of me shagging Megan with her husband. Oh, and Marie's outfit hid little, if anything, from Charles' gaze either during their impromptu show. I sometimes think that she's using managed exposure therapy to help me deal with my insecurities.

Anyway, our understanding is that Megan and Charles will set their own boundaries and I will rely on Megan to observe them. I gave him my word that the only naughty stuff between us would happen on 'study nights' at our home; no extra-curricular screwing in shady hotels. Although the thought of a class act like Megan staying in any room that costs less than £400 per night is laughable.

Now Sam. She's another matter. Early forties, slim, toned, sweet natured. 5 foot 4, blue eyes, light brown hair usually in a ponytail. Long legs and C cup boobs. Both Angie and Marie are crushing on her like schoolgirls, hoping like crazy she'll play for both teams. At the moment she's separated and divorcing her husband. She was grateful to Marie for including her in our weird little coven at such short notice. Apparently, sex had been in short supply for some time and this way it's discreet, simpler than on-line dating and less demeaning than trawling the clubs for single guys who aren't single for good reason.

So, just before seven, our doorbell rang and I kissed Marie before we went to welcome our guests. Now, Megan is a charming woman with an incisive wit, so I know she has a sense of humor, but I'd never in my life seen her grinning like a Cheshire Cat, until Marie opened the door. Megan was, as ever, flawless. Yes, there were lines at the corner of her eyes and lips, but her make-up drew your attention away. Her skirt, blouse and wool jacket, all in complementary shades of cream, probably cost more than my entire wardrobe and I suspected that the price of her nude shoes alone could keep me in beer for a year.

I turned my attention to Sam who stood quietly next to her dressed simply in jeans, tee and short leather jacket. She was carrying a small, soft-sided bag; the sort you could use either for the gym or as a flight carry-on. In contrast to Megan's gleeful grin, Sam seemed apprehensive; well that wasn't surprising. I'd met her precisely once before and now she was here, in a strange house, to have sex with an old fart like me and my happily bi wife.

When we got inside and settled with a drink, Marie explained our house rules. Well, I say rules, the only rule is that, because all of activities are consensual, if anyone says our safe-word, "Desist", that means stop right now.

Our planned schedule is forty five minutes with one partner, fifteen minutes break, then the same again with the other partner and as long as we want afterwards all together or with a third partner; tonight that would be Sam and Megan's chance to play together if they wished.

Sam cleared her throat and looked uncomfortable. Megan's face lit up. Sam spoke. "Er, I wanted to ask if you would." She stopped, too embarrassed to continue.

"Go on, sweetheart," Marie encouraged her. "I think I know what you want to ask and I can guarantee it won't even be close to the weirdest thing we've heard today."

Sam looked at her gratefully; then at me. I'd just remembered that Marie had told me that all of her friends had acquired baggage in their lives. They had shared them when they had created the 'language classes' but my wife had to promise not to share them with me unless she felt they threatened our marriage. So Marie probably suspected what was coming. I was going in cold.

I tried to keep my face neutral as Sam continued. "Sometimes, when I'm really stressed, I like sensation play. My husband would indulge me when it suited him, but that's been a while now." Her eyes filled up. "I've had to deal with some real shit today and I need someone to care, just for a while." She looked up pleadingly through brimming eyes. "I'm sorry to drop this on you but could you? Please?" She held up her bag. "I've got some things in here but I don't care what you do to me, I just need to be;” She stopped and buried her face in her lap, her shoulders shaking. Megan looked shocked. She'd obviously known that Sam was going to surprise us. She equally obviously hadn't known why.

Oddly enough, Marie looked to me. I expected her or Megan, or both, to comfort the girl. "You and Sam take our room first tonight, Geoff," my wife said quietly. "Forget the schedule. Megan and I will see you at eight thirty. Only one swap this evening."

I led a subdued Sam upstairs to our bedroom. "Sam?" I said softly. "I don't know what has upset you today, and it's none of my business. What is my business though;” I put my hands on her shoulders to turn her towards me and then tilted her chin up so that our gazes met. I bent and kissed her forehead. "What is my business is whatever I can do to make you happy." She gave a wan little smile. Not much but it was a start. "So," I continued. "I probably understand your kink better than you expect, but still nowhere near as well as you. You need to be my guide. Can you do that?" Her eyes widened as she realized I was serious; she nodded, wordlessly.

This time I kissed her cheek and felt her relax a little. Progress, perhaps. She was still wearing her leather jacket, so I slipped it off her shoulders and she helped me by turning and straightening her arms. As I hung it on the hook behind the door, I saw her glance nervously at the bed. This wasn't the confident younger woman that I'd met, if only briefly, just a few days ago.

I surprised her I think, by sitting in the chair from the dressing table. I patted my lap. "Come, sweetheart. Sit with me and tell me what I can do to make you feel better."

Still silent, she settled on my lap. Despite her gorgeous behind being parked on my groin, this wasn't even slightly arousing. Well, not yet anyway.

As we sat I stroked her hair and whispered nonsense in her ears. It was important that I whispered, because it struck me that she craved sensation, and ordinary conversation just wouldn't do. Think ASMR. So, putting as much sibilance into my words as I could, I told her what a beautiful woman she was, what a privilege it was to even be able to hold her. I described how her hair felt as I stroked it and how I could feel the heat of her body through our clothes.

I heard her breathing quieten. I wasn't trying to arouse her yet. She seemed just to crave physical contact. I ran my hand down her bare arm and I moved my lips so close to her that she could feel my breath on her cheek. At last, she responded. "Thank you Geoff," came the muffled voice from my chest. This is so nice."

"Sam?"

"Yes Geoff?"

"Do you trust me?"

She looked up and, meeting my gaze once more, she bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, Geoff."

"Then take your jeans and your top off and lay on the bed, in or out of underwear, it's your choice." We held our gaze. "Then I have a treat for you," I promised.

I left her to undress and went into our en-suite. When I'd collected what I needed I returned to find her laid on her side, facing me, on our bed, naked. At that moment I needed to learn how to paint just to capture her image in oils. Oh, I also wanted to fuck her brains out too. Dear God! That vision will stay with me until I die. She gave me her first genuine smile. "I decided to prove how much I trust you," she told me.

"Then turn over and close your eyes," I instructed her. She did, and with an enthusiasm that convinced me I was on the right track. I let her lay for a full minute while I did nothing; she needed anticipation as much as stimulation. Then, without warning I dripped a line of massage oil up her spine from her buttock cleft to her hairline. She gasped.

I undressed. She must have heard me and known what I was doing but she didn't look. "Good girl," I whispered, straddling her naked back, not caring that my balls were resting on her bum cheeks. I leaned forward and began to massage her, starting at her neck and working slowly but steadily south. I kept a running commentary on how soft and beautiful her body was; partly to bolster her self-image and partly to bombard her with sound and scent and touch all at once.

I made sure to caress the sides of her tits, I wanted her primed for when she turned over. By the time I reached the small of her back she was moaning softly. I shifted down a tad. Now when I leaned forward, my erection dipped between those glorious mounds, the next destination for my hands.

Still describing every movement, I reached her bum. It was magnificent; the Oxford English Dictionary could use an image of Sam's bottom for the perfect visual definition of the word 'pert'.

I don't know which of us enjoyed that part of our shared experience most, but my cock was like diamond and the scent of Sam's arousal was obvious. As I worked my way down her cheeks, my thumbs tantalized and then touched, first her puckered little anus, then the entrance to her inner self and finally her clit. She jerked involuntarily as I made contact. Not an orgasm, but certainly a jolt of pleasure. Never slowing or rushing, I made my way to her feet.

Again, she mewled. This time in frustration.

"Turn over, sweetheart," I ordered. We're not even close to finished yet."

She complied. I watched her scan me from face to groin as I waited to straddle her again. She seemed content with what she saw. I'm not ripped, but there's no fat on me. I'm not hung like a horse, but the six women who have seen me naked in the last few weeks have all been kind enough not to fall about laughing. She seemed both shocked and excited as I straddled her waist, watching me with anticipation to see what I'd do next. I opened her bag on the bed beside me and she squirmed in embarrassment.

Inside were swatches of fabric; silk, fur, hessian, elastomer. Even a ribbon of chain mail. "You dirty girl," I chided her. "Do you want me to pleasure you with these?"

She didn't speak but just looked at me beseechingly as I held a piece of faux fur in my hand. "I'll do it," I allowed. "But on my terms."

She stayed frozen with need. I dragged the fur across her lips, down her neck and across her tits, her nipples almost straining to make contact. "Every pleasure," I warned her, "has a price." Without warning, I lashed her firmly across each tit with the metal mesh. She squealed.

"You know the safe word," I reminded her. "Do I continue?" She nodded silently so I did it again. Next I trailed the latex strip down her belly. She sighed. Then tensed, waiting for the payback. I'm right-handed, so I slapped the side of her left tit; if I'm honest, it was harder than I intended. I bent to kiss it better. That was for me as much as her. I repeated the pleasure and pain on her belly and her right tit. Another kiss.

I shifted down between her legs and bent to her center. I savored the texture of her inner thighs. Her scent was intoxicating and I had to taste her. She shuddered at just the touch of my tongue. Now I intended to unleash even more sensations on her.

I'd never done this to a woman before. I have always made oral a slow and tender build up to actual penetration. But Sam needed something more; she needed intensity, so that's what I gave her. Without warning, I buried my face between her thighs and attacked with my tongue and my lips. I reached both hands up to her tits and blindly mauled her nipples. I sucked and bit her clit and then transferred my attention to her passage.

The sensations overwhelmed her and she cried out long and loud: but she didn't say the word.

I straightened up and lodged myself at her entrance, watching her, challenging her to stop me. When she didn't, I drove in, barely slowing as I sank deeper inside her. She screamed again and then let out a long shuddering breath. There was no way that Sam and I were going to make love that night so I didn't try to kiss her, to caress her. I fucked her, and she fucked me right back and we did it for as long and as hard and as deep as we could. She came as I felt my own orgasm beginning, and her internal spasms took me over the edge. This time she cried out with a feral scream of release as her body writhed and bucked beneath me. I mashed my mouth to hers to claim her, before my passion subsided and I lay motionless on top of her.

I levered myself up as my cock softened and slipped from her. She looped an arm around my neck. The passive woman of earlier seemed to have been replaced by the Sam I first met. "Thank you, Geoff, for being so patient." She sighed.

"We attended Road Traffic Incident today." Her voice was distant, unemotional. "The Fire Service got the sole survivor out and we stabilized him and got him in our vehicle. He bled out internally en-route to A and E." Her eyes filled up, but at least she was talking now. Not passive and hollow like before.

"It's so fucking frustrating. Either in war or peace, just how stupid choices mean that innocents die," she lamented.

"And you, and those like you, see more of that than you should," I sympathized. "Does submersing yourself help drown out the feelings, at least for a little while?"

"Yes, it's a sort of time-out where I push the anger away to subside naturally while I'm distracted."

I looked discreetly at the clock. "We may have time to distract each other once more," I suggested.

She looked thoughtful but didn't say much, but then, it's rude to talk with your mouth full.

We met the others downstairs. We were a few minutes late. From the looks of relief from Megan and my wife, we were forgiven. Sam apologized anyway. "I'm sorry, It took Geoff so long to dig me out of the place I'd buried myself, I felt obliged to show him how much I appreciated his efforts."

My beautiful and youngest lover snuggled up to me and kissed my cheek. Marie rolled her eyes. "Geoffrey. This is getting to be a habit".

The four of us sat quietly talking for a while and then Marie stood and offered her hand to Sam. I considered, for a microsecond, suggesting to Marie what toys to use with her new playmate, but common sense prevailed. Marie is an intuitive lover and my insights into lesbian pleasure would probably not be well received.

In the playroom with Megan, she apologized for her earlier amusement at Sam's plan. She knew that Sam intended to drag us into participating in some sort of fetish, but not the depth of trauma that triggered it. She was horrified that I might think her that heartless. I forgave her, of course.

"I can't explain it," Megan informed me, as she all but tore the clothes off my back two minutes later. "But between Marie's head between my thighs, and the way you treated that vulnerable, adorable Sam, I just want to fuck your brains out, or anything else you want. Does that make sense?"

"Megan."

"Yes, Geoff?"

"Nothing to do with sex ever makes sense. Now. Do you want to suck my cock?"

It turns out that she did. And that's how a retired lab manager ended up fucking the face of a highly respected member of the local legal establishment. After she'd demonstrated an excellent grasp of the subject I gripped a handful of her hair as she knelt in front of me. I pulled my cock from between her lips. She looked a mess. Eyes watering, spittle running down her chin and strands still linking her lips to my bulb.

"You said, 'anything' I pointed out." She ignored my hand in her hair and pulled on my hips to draw me back, deep, almost down her throat, gagging and choking but refusing to stop. By now I was getting close. She was so turned on she'd happily swallow everything that I gave her, but I wanted Megan to feel the sensation of being the wanton slut she was free to be with us. As I crested, I pulled out and spat my load over her chin and tits.

She looked amazing. The sophisticated, elegant woman who'd arrived a couple of hours ago was now a glowing, sweaty fuck-toy beaming with satisfaction at being jizzed on by her friend's husband.

"Stand up Megan," I told her. I directed her to the full length mirror in our bedroom. "Do you recognize the woman in the mirror, Megan?" She stood proud, rubbing my semen into her tits, tasting the residue on her fingers. "From now on, every time that I see you, Megan, that's the woman I'll see."

Now, there's a trope in erotic fiction that the lover mocks and ridicules the cuckolded husband. Not me. I'd not spoken of Charles at all that evening. Now I gave her the choice. "I don't know if you and Charles have agreed to pretend this visit never happened, or whether you intend to describe in detail what we've done. If you want," I made sure that I had her attention. "I'll take a photo on your phone so that you can show him what a dirty girl you've been."

I don't know if I'd want to see that photo if our roles were reversed, but this was her only opportunity to capture that image. Megan glanced at her phone on the dresser. "Take it; take a few," she instructed me. "I'll speak to Charles and he can decide later."

I did and then, after I'd used a towel to clean her up, I drew her to the bed and treated her more as a lover. She tasted wonderful. I'm aware that my wife has excellent oral skills so I was flattered when Megan writhed and gasped at my own efforts. I admit that I had three fingers in her cunt at the time.

In short order, my erection enhancing tablets kicked in and little Geoff reported for duty again. As well he should; there, in front of me, legs slightly spread was a successful, elegant, beautiful, mature woman whose sole desire at that moment was for me to fuck her. I slid gently into her and obliged. I don't know how long we lasted but I know that it was a full five minutes after we'd finished before I could form a coherent sentence.

In fact, Megan beat me to it. "Well Geoff," she panted, as I prayed for my sight to return. "That was every bit as exhilarating as I'd hoped."

I finally got my breath back. "I was pleased to be at your cervix." I quipped.

"I was dilated you could make it." she replied, in the same vein.

We both lost it then. When we'd recovered, Megan propped herself up on one arm and looked down at me. I took in her well-fucked look with a feeling of satisfaction. I did that; well me and the chemists who developed ED22.

"You know I love Charles with everything I have, don't you?"

"I know. And I realize how difficult this must be, for both of you."

"When he suggested that I took a lover, it was always understood that we would never speak of it. I would be as discreet as possible and satisfy my needs without demeaning him."

"I can't believe you'd behave any other way," I observed.

"Thank you, Geoff." She bent to kiss me. "But when I told him about Marie's offer," she paused to recall their conversation. "He was keen for me to participate, actually happy that I would be having sex with a man he respected, someone who would treat me with respect and discretion and he'd know that I would be safe."

I listened quietly. I knew that there was a point to this. I was fine where I was and there was no need to rush.

"In future, Geoff, I want you to use me. When you're loving and tender, as you just were, I feel as though I'm betraying Charles. When you used me earlier, I felt different, like a woman rather than a wife. It's odd, but acting more like a whore than a lover feels less; deceitful." She looked at me to see if I was following.

"I told you Megan," I repeated. "Nothing to do with sex ever makes sense. But, just to prove that I was listening and understood." I gave her my best lecherous look. "Get on your hands and knees, slut. This time I'm taking you from behind."

It was quite a while later that I guided a showered and dressed Megan downstairs. She and Marie disappeared back into the kitchen while I caught up with Sam. She confided that she'd had a couple of casual encounters with other nurses when she'd been posted overseas and Marie had outshone them all. I felt a surge of pride in my little bisexual minx.

Marie and I saw our visitors off then went straight to bed. "Am I in trouble, Geoff?" My wife asked me, hesitantly.

I had to be honest. "No. But that could have been a colossal fuck-up if we'd got it wrong."

"Sam told me that she'd had a really shitty shift; a traffic casualty died on the way to A and E. Her kink helps her deal with that kind of stress. It would have been vanilla Sam with us tonight otherwise."

"That's right. She said the same to me. Marie? When you see the girls on Friday, Marie, would you do two things for me?"

"I think I have to say yes, whatever you ask, after tonight."

"Please ask them to give you permission to share things, even personal things, if you think that I need to know." She nodded her agreement. "And ask Sam if she wants a trip to our new favorite shop. We can choose some toys just for her, and freak the guy that works there out even more when he sees me with another babe."

That must have been the right thing to say because she all but threw me onto my back and she did things. Wicked things. Lots of wicked things. I had to have a lie in the next morning.

Lucy's Turn.

Another rambling chapter in the increasingly weird everyday lives of a retired English couple. Despite their entanglements getting ever more complicated,

My name is Geoff. You'll probably find out my surname eventually, but not today. My wife and I took early retirement a couple of years ago; me from a ceramics research lab and Marie from the local university's modern languages department. We recently hit a bit of a bump in our marriage, but we survived and now we're closer than ever. The fallout, however, was unexpected; we both now find ourselves in a polyamorous relationship with eight other women. This is the next chapter in our story.

It was Thursday morning and I was having a lie in. Breakfast in bed even seemed to be a possibility. I'll admit to being a tad fatigued after my wife's sexual onslaught last night triggered, if you can believe it, by my offering to take one of her friends to the local adult store for some of their more niche products. To be honest, I'd been in there so many times lately that I was thinking of asking if they had a loyalty card scheme.

After some thought, I decided that breakfast in bed was always more appealing in theory than practice so I hauled my lazy, geriatric ass out of bed and into the bathroom. My wife, Marie, and I had 'entertained' two of her friends the previous evening; Megan, a retired solicitor, like us, in her sixties and Samantha, though she preferred to be called Sam, a paramedic in her early forties. Those two are part of my wife's group of six friends who, for reasons too complicated to repeat here, are invited to have sex with us, as in both of us, in pairs on a rotation system every Wednesday evening.

Of course, once Marie opened that particular door, she then appeared to go critical and invited Margie and Sue, two single teachers in their fifties, back to our home from a dance the previous weekend for a quiet little orgy. "Well," she seemed to think, "Geoffrey," that's me, "capitulated eventually when I worked on him to have sex with six lonely women. Another two surely won't hurt." Actually, I was fine with it.

As if that wasn't enough, my wife and I have also developed a particularly deep attachment to one of her dearest friends, Angie. Now don't get me wrong; Angie and I as a couple would be a disaster. But Angie as part of my marriage to Marie is a great example of synergy. The three of us together are much more than the sum of us as individuals. For all she is a brilliant academic in her sixties, Angie is adorable; she has an almost child-like innocence and enthusiasm for life. In fact, we both love her so much that Marie proposed to her in the pub;  while we were sober! Or nearly so. What did her proposal involve? Angie would be able to have sex with either me or Marie without the other's permission. She'd be part of our marriage. I'd say we were a throuple but my wife actually threatened me with violence if I ever used the word again in her presence.

Anyway, we all thought it was a great idea but then struggled to decide how to implement it. That was when Adrian, a student eavesdropping at the next table in the pub, suggested that we had a Jedi joining ceremony. Angie and I are Sci-Fi nerds so we were all over it: Marie not so much, but even she couldn't resist Angie's fervent pleas.

Sorry; went off at a bit of a tangent there. So; I decided to get up, showered and fed, before I helped Marie strip and remake the beds in the two rooms we'd used the previous evening, as well as remembering to clean and sanitize the sex toys that the girls had played with that night, before they were locked away until next time. I'd be on laundry duty that morning as my wife was volunteering at a charity shop in town until two.

While I was waiting for the washing machine to finish (I'd chosen a 40°C cycle: sex can be a bit sticky) I did my hunter/gatherer impersonation and rummaged in the fridge for something for our evening meal. Linda, our daughter, her teenage son, Colin and Angie, were eating with us that evening so I needed enough for five. I looked with shame at the piss poor assortment I'd salvaged from the produce shelf. We needed to shop soon, and preferably somewhere that sold vegetables rather than ass plugs!

So; sweet peppers, garlic, chorizo, chicken thighs and tomatoes. I knew that there were potatoes and onions in the larder and we had plenty of different herbs and spices, so tray bake it is. I prepped the veggies (I know: peppers and tomatoes are really fruit. You knew what I meant), trimmed the meat and measured out the paprika, herbs and salt for seasoning. An hour in the oven later that afternoon and no additional work. That's my sort of cooking. Time for a cuppa before the sheets needed to come out of the washer and then I could go for a run.

As I ran, I allowed my mind to wander. Whatever the consequences of our new lifestyle, we were committed now. We couldn't un-fuck the women who'd shared our beds. Megan and Sam were both still married and, though I hadn't yet had penile sex with Lucy, I didn't believe fingering her to one of the sweetest climaxes I'd ever seen was within the terms of most wedding vows. We didn't brag about our adventures, except here, but we hadn't been particularly discreet either.

I decided; our daughter needed to understand our new lifestyle. It was her son that saw Gran and Grandad kissing Aunty Angie. He would never see anything more than that, but Linda had a right to know and we'd have to negotiate an understanding if that was a problem for her. I resolved to speak to Marie about arranging for me to meet Linda after work to discuss it over a meal while my wife had her regular evening out with her pals.

Marie had promised to take the opportunity to ask the girls to allow her to pass on to me some of the more intimate details they had shared amongst themselves if, and only if, she believed that I needed to know. We all had baggage from our long lives. It was harder to respond sensitively to an issue in bed if I only found out about it after we'd already got our kit off.

Marie and Angie were going to meet in town this afternoon after my wife's shift, to look for a ring. I'd made a suggestion of what they should look for and, for once, Marie thought that it was brilliant. I have my moments. Anyway, if they found one, on Friday they were going to announce to their friends our, what? Engagement? I favored betrothal: that had earned another smile. I thought I'd stop while I was ahead.

The 'wedding' planning was going to be interesting though. I was probably not going to be included, although Angie and I would certainly be the technical advisors on Star Wars lore. Marie was going to ask Lucy, a talented professional artist, if she would collaborate with our student friends on decorating some costume elements. Marie, for example wanted to look exactly like Bo Katan, an armored female warrior. My wife was also tasked with asking Megan if she could personally, or through her contacts in the legal community, advise us on intellectual property rights. This was after all, intended to be a fun celebration, not an 'up yours', to large, well lawyered media corporations.

Without even realizing it, my meditative run had brought me almost full circle, so I stepped up the pace towards my home, a shower and lunch.

To be continued in part 9. Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.