Author: OneIdleHand Title: The Question of a Third Summary: Sharing fantasies as foreplay often led Steven and Hayley to wonderful sex. And it was the idea of a threesome that became a familiar and welcome partner to our lovemaking. But afterwards, the questions began. Could we ever really do it? Forget that. If we did, who would it be with? What would we think afterwards? Would there be jealousy? A desire for more? Or a desire to never do it again? It didn't matter, really, as the questions were very much part of the turn-on, and they would never really be answered. Right? And then Eric came to visit... Keywords: MMF, light exhib The Question of a Third I hadn't liked taking a vacation day to deal with a contractor, but I had finally succumbed to peer pressure. The green carpets fronting every other house in the neighborhood weren't noticeable in and of themselves, but when driving past our patch of regularly mowed weeds, the lack of investment was evident. To put things aright, a lawn sprinkler system was going to be needed, mostly because I was too busy, I kept telling myself, to move a hose and sprinkler around the yard from day to day. But my vacation wouldn't be ruined, if, that is, the contractor showed up roughly on time. He was already half an hour late. I liked planning things, and plans called for tasks, and there were times for each task. 9:00 - Load the car for the camping trip. Done. 10:00 - Meet with the contractor. 11:30 - Meet Hayley at the Mall for lunch. 12:30 - Go to a convenience store, fill up the car with gas, and pack a cooler with ice. 12:40 - Leave to go camping for the weekend. 3:30 - Arrive in the Great Smokies. 4:30 - Pitch a tent. 5:30 (and thereafter) - Screw like bunnies. A simple plan indeed. The phone rang inside. Surely it was the contractor, calling to tell me he was just around the corner. "Hello." I managed to say it without any condemnation or venom. The worm. "Hi Steven. It's a blast from your past!" My mind was fractured by damning the contractor while wondering who this was. A familiar voice, yes. "Okay, I give. Who is this?" "Ahhh, come on. You have to at least guess." A slight southern drawl. "The voice of Christmas past come to torment me. Who is it?" "Not even a guess?" "Oh, fine. How about a hint?" I wasn't much in the mood for games, but I knew this person, and it certainly beat stepping on ants in the driveway waiting for the contractor. "Brown Sugar." "Good on a sweet potato. Also a Rolling Stones song. How about another one?" "Banner Hall, Room 3...something or another." Ah! I thought I knew who this was, but decided to play dumb. "College. I lived there." "Run, rabbit run. I want to shoot you with my gun." "Bateson!" Eric, a college roommate for a year, who always changed the words to that particular Pink Floyd lyric. "Yeah, man. How's it going?" "Good, I guess. All 12 years since I've heard from you. You pretty much dropped off the planet. How about you?" "Good. I've been managing forest tracts for a paper company in Virginia for the last five years. I decided to take a road trip to Florida for a couple of weeks and thought I'd stop by!" Stop by? "Where are you?" "I-85 and Sugar Creek Parkway. You live near here?" "Yeah, only several miles. But bad timing. We're leaving shortly to go camping. You ever heard of calling ahead?" "Yeah. You know me, though. I just like to get into the car and drive. I didn't even know if you still lived here until I found a phone book." "I'll have to introduce you to the internet. I gather you're still single?" "Yeah, mostly not by choice, or, mine anyway. Where are you going?" Paradise, I thought. Hayley and I had scouted a primitive camp site two years ago and had camped there once last year, which had been perfect. Perfect for...my mind digressed. "Eh, in the Smokies, just on the Tennessee side, in the National Park." "Hey, if I'm not being too forward, I could go with you. I'd like to go there. I was going to camp at some beach in Florida, so I have a few supplies with me, although I was going to stay in motels too." Three of us? It would be rather odd. And it would certainly change my expectations for the weekend. "Let me, ah, think about it. Why don't you come over for a bit? I'm waiting for a contractor and then I was going to leave. I may end up never leaving at this point." Having given Eric directions, I called Hayley's cell phone. No answer. Either the mall was blocking the signal, or she had it muted. Great. I had to make an executive decision. I had met Eric through Hayley, in college. She had several classes with him during her short duration as a Forestry major before concluding that, despite the romantic notion of working in the wilderness, there weren't many jobs out there that appealed and that paid respectably. I also knew that she would enjoy getting together with him to catch up on his life. We three had enjoyed good times, particularly in the summers when Eric and I were working and Hayley would visit for a weekend. I just didn't know if this was the right time. Maybe he could stop by the house on his way back. Eric arrived shortly thereafter, and after a quick tour of the house and remarking on each other's graying hair, the blasted contractor arrived. He had a good understanding of the job needs, and all I wanted was a quote and his availability. I suffered through the sales pitch as he measured the yard, and sent him on his way to prepare a bid. Crap. I was going to be 15 minutes late meeting Hayley. It turned out that Eric would be returning up the coast of North Carolina to visit with his sister briefly on his return trip, so I decided. I had better not make the decision. I put another camping chair in the van, as well as a small backpack, just in case, and added several more beers to the cooler. Eric followed me to the mall to meet Hayley. She was waiting, somewhat patiently, it appeared, at the entrance to Ruby Tuesday's. "Hi, honey. Sorry I'm late, but the contractor didn't show until 11:00. I tried to call, but I couldn't reach you." "I left it at home to charge. Sorry." I saw a large shopping bag with no name on it. It was strange that any store in the mall would sell something without advertising their name on the bag. "Aha. I gather you and Denise had a good time shopping?" "Yeah. We did. She just left, actually. But I think you'll appreciate her input to what I bought." Whooee. Maybe that meant that she, for once, actually walked inside Victoria's Secret rather than "admiring it from afar." Back to the business at hand. "I've got a surprise for you." She slipped a hand on my butt and gave a squeeze, "And I've got some surprises for you." "Let's do mine first. We'd like a table for 3." Hayley looked at me questioningly as the waitress gathered the menus to lead us to the table. "Behind you." She turned, to meet Eric's wry grin. She only took a moment to recognize him, and gave him a huge hug. "It's so good to see you! This is such a surprise!" When we were seated, we caught up briefly on careers, bragged on our kids, and listened to a short recounting of Eric's girlfriend woes. Hayley finally got around to asking him what brought him through town, and the discussion quickly arrived at "the question." Would Eric go camping with us? This wasn't just any question. This question encompassed a history of which Eric was quite unaware. This was more akin to that single point in time in a movie when the protagonist is forced to make a decision, in short order, that could have far ranging consequences. A complication was that it should be a joint decision, but we couldn't even speak of it in its proper context. And this was the context: We didn't know if we were like every couple, or like just a very few. But from whatever source, be it imagination, an erotic story in "Penthouse," a movie, TV show, a book, or an attraction of a married person to someone else, the idea of a threesome had been a frequent fantasy discussed in our lovemaking. And in terms of our sex life, the discussion had always sounded so...real. During foreplay, Hayley's juices would pour in far greater quantity than I could manually stimulate. If she wasn't really in the mood for sex but was doing it only as a gift to me, a few words about a cock in each hand, or lips at each nipple were sure to engage her passion, and a very vocal one at that. The thought of watching while my wife fucked another man...there was no plateau that was higher in our sexual passions. The question was, could we envision, in reality, having another man join us in bed. And the answer had been a very pleasurable "Yeessssssssss!" Until just after the climax. Then came the other questions. Could we really do it? Yes. We agreed. Only a "yes" gave legitimacy to the sexual excitement that we experienced. But then the other questions arose, of possible jealousy, public exposure, disease, remaining satisfied with one partner, a break in our relationship and commitment to each other. We could seriously do it, but we could never seriously do it. It was a paradox, and we were thankful for what it was, a great fantasy. But the answer was necessarily a "no," and we had never made any attempts to make it happen. Having been married over 15 years, there had been a number of times when, as we imagined her impaled on someone else's cock, whose cock that would be. It was part of our wordplay as we built the fantasy. A name. It would have to be someone that we both liked. Someone that she found attractive. It couldn't be a stranger; there was too much risk involved. It couldn't be someone that she could fall in love with. The person had to have other flaws about him that, regardless of sex, wouldn't appeal to Hayley as a "better relationship" than what we had, yet he still had to be a friend. It would also have to be someone that didn't run around in the same group of friends, preferably from out of town. And so, each time the "who" question came up after its first posing, the question became, have you thought of anyone better suited than Eric? And the answer had always been "no." So, would Hayley want Eric to join us camping? A "yes" would not mean anything would happen; it was controllable. But something could happen, and that was a very big decision. I didn't want to cast the deciding lot. Seeing that Hayley was giving me a questioning look, and fully aware that my suddenly stiff cock was muting all the previously mentioned problematic questions, I gave an affirmative look that suggested, "it's okay with me, but it's really up to you." So much for male household leadership, but this had to be a joint decision, and I was willing to entertain the possibility if she was. Like the protagonist in whatever book, I could see the immensity of the question pass through Hayley's face within the couple of moments it took for her to lean her head slightly and run a hand through hair, pulling it back over her shoulder. Eric wouldn't have understood the context, but I knew what she was thinking, and she replied with a light, but enthusiastic, "Sure. That would be fun." We decided that Eric should follow us in his Rodeo. We could fit his stuff in our van, but we didn't want to leave his car at the mall or drive back to the house to leave it there. Plus, he would be happy to head out to points undecided from the mountains just as well as from any other place. During the ride to the gas station, we had a couple of minutes to reassure each other that this was okay. If anything, it gave a premise that would fuel our sex the next time we imagined a threesome. As I filled the van with gas, Eric asked if Hayley could ride with him so they could catch up on things, which was fine. When we were about an hour from the camp, Hayley rejoined me in the van, telling me what they had talked about. They had covered a lot of the same stuff as we did at the restaurant, but with more detail. I ventured a jest, "Did he make a move on you?" "Ha Ha. No. But he did have the courtesy to say how nice my new top looks, which is more than you've done!" I looked and was immediately convicted. I really hadn't noticed. It was a V-neck sleeveless shirt, tight in all the right places, including across Hayley's 38C chest. The shirt must have included some support structure, because on closer observation, she wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were slightly higher than their natural position. She had obviously purchased it with me in mind, knowing that I'm particularly fond of her breasts. I made a mental note to thank Denise for her input at a later time. "What else did you buy?" "You'll just have to wait to later," She added in a teasing voice. "He also went into a short history of his girlfriends. They apparently met someone slightly better than him and leave him to marry the other guy within a couple of months. He said it sort of started with me, which surprised me. We never dated, but he said he had decided he wanted to just as you and I started going out, but he never got the chance afterwards. Don't look at me like that. I said he didn't come on to me. It was just a part of his sad saga. He's been without a steady girlfriend for two years, and he hasn't had a date in months. He works in a small town, too." Hayley stopped speaking, and the sound of the road noise was the backdrop to what I'm sure were duplicate thoughts running through our heads. "So, what do we do, Steven?" The discussion that followed was actually painful. I had to give more attention to the road as we were entering the mountains, and I couldn't do a thing about the stiff shaft in my pants other than give it an idle rub as we discussed "the question." And we discussed it the same way we had done in bed, only this time, there was no touching. For me, anyway. Hayley had pulled down her shorts and panties (hardly, it was a black g-string. She had apparently prepared her wardrobe specifically for a sexy weekend with just me), and brought herself to orgasm, which was no small distraction as I was driving. Then the post-climax (for her) nuisance questions returned. "What if, what if, what if." After Hayley "put herself back together," the process of which left several wet napkins on the floor of the van, we just agreed to just let it play out. If we both wanted it, it might happen if Eric was willing. If either of us didn't, then it wouldn't. We paid the park fee, then drove to parking area at the far end of most of the main loop road, well beyond the frequented park facilities and recreational areas. We unloaded our van, packed lightly for the hike to our secret spot, approximately a mile down a faint path, then a half mile off of that, where we there was an excellent chance of privacy. Then we did it again, to carry the cooler, table and chairs. Had it been just the two of us, we would have made it in one trip. The "campsite" was a clearing adjacent to a stream on a high bank. The stream had attracted us on the map during our first scouting visit, hoping for a private place to skinny-dip, one of those often considered fantasies that had proved to be difficult to carry out. Well, we had carried it out. The water was very cold, but there was a pool of water several feet deep, with large boulders on one side which were perfect to sit or lay on. The clearing was rather modest, and the quaintness of our previous visit was replaced by a more suburban feel as Eric's tent had to be positioned such that his door flap opened facing toward the side of our tent, within several feet. His tent was considerably larger than our tent, which had chosen for it's lightweight and easy portability. Just the proximity of Eric's tent made the prospects of Hayley and I screwing like bunnies pretty dim, as the sound would carry easily. After everyone was situated, the afternoon carried on, recalling our lives in recent years as well as the times we had shared together in college. We could have drank more beer, but we wanted to save the other half for Saturday. As night fell, we faced a problem. The Park prohibited fires outside of the designated camping areas, and the fluorescent light we brought was attracting unknown species of flying bugs. We had to move indoors, and only Eric's tent would fit us, as our dome shaped tent was suitable only for two. Even in Eric's tent, which had significantly more headroom, the space was crowded. We brought the fluorescent light in as well, which had been a timely buy when we read an article about a family dying from carbon monoxide exposure from a propane light inside a tent. Eric began moving his backpack out of the tent to clear more room. As he shuffled his bag, a paperback fell from it, which he didn't notice. Hayley picked it up. "Penthouse Letters - V". It appeared to be a collection of sex stories that had been published in Penthouse magazines, categorized by types - Exhibitionism, Serendipity, Domination, Threesomes. Aha. Threesomes. Eric was commenting from outside. "I've got some cards in here somewhere. We can play something while we talk." He reentered the tent, and Hayley held up the book so that he could see it. "Why bother playing? I'll bet there's a story in here about strip poker." Neither Eric nor I laughed. In any other setting, it would have been funny as hell. But the close confines of the tent, the presence of a "bed" as such, the familiarity between us and the show of cleavage from Hayley, made the thought of it very much within reach. Strip poker just didn't happen in real life, just like threesomes. It was the stuff of stories. Eric was a bit embarrassed about his book, and continued to be so for several minutes as Hayley read the titles to the stories on the pages that were clearly Eric's favorites - the pages were dog-eared. "My Wife - the Sex Slave I Always Wanted," "Horny Housewife Lures 3 Black Studs," "Girlfriend Tastes Cum for the First Time, and Can't Get Enough." "Sorority Girl is the Lone Female at Frat Party, But Not Alone." And there were others, tons. We laughed and joked about them, until Hayley came to "Two Couples Reunite for Strip Poker." "See, I told you there would be one. I guess we're just one short." Before Eric or I could make any comment, Hayley launched into reading the story. After she read the scene set up, she looked up. Eric and I both looked a bit stunned. I didn't know what Eric was thinking, but I was thinking of sex, and that Hayley must want to go through with it if she was being this forward. "Hey guys, I'm not playing strip poker because I wouldn't want to embarrass you," she winked, "but that doesn't mean we can't read the story." Eric said, "Well, go ahead. I'll never read it the same way again!" I heard my wife say words such as "cock," "cunt," "pussy," "tits," "fuck me hard" and on and on. It wasn't that I hadn't heard her say these before, it was that she was saying them in front of another man, in a very bawdy context. At some point, the story became just a backdrop to what I was seeing. Eric and I were mostly stretched out and propped up on our elbows. A quick glance confirmed we both had flagpoles in our shorts. Hayley was sitting between our legs, with her legs folded under her and the book held to one side to capture the light. I became aware that, although certainly the temperature of the mountain air had cooled, her nipples were fully erect, their shape and size easily discerned through her shirt. Her cleavage, neck, and face were also flushed. I risked another glance to see if Eric had noticed. His concentration was lower. I looked, too. Although Hayley's shirt was tantalizingly tight, she was wearing hiking shorts. The hem was short, and the size of the leg pattern was large to facilitate walking and climbing. As she sat there, with her legs spread and folded back, the light shone up her shorts. Her g-string was clearly visible, as was the fact that her pubic area was shaven to within its confines. The light seemed to play tricks, suggesting at times that she was very wet. I became aware that she finished the story. No one said anything. She had quickly picked up that we had been spying on her. Several uncomfortable moments passed, and I offered, "I don't think I can take any more stories. Let's call it a night." I could feel the relief in each of us, but I also felt a little disappointed. It could have happened. A suggestion, and a fantasy would have been realized. Hayley left the camp a ways to go to relive her bladder, and I did the same in a different direction. We met back at our tent, and made facial expressions indicating we were horny, relieved, oh so close to living a fantasy, and frustrated that we couldn't speak about these things. Hayley held a finger to her mouth indicating for me to remain quiet, and retrieved a bag from her pack. Frederick's! She hadn't gone to Victoria's Secret then, but Frederick's of Hollywood! That meant that she had purchased "tramp" clothing rather than the classy, which is fine with me. I have an appetite for both. She held up a bra with nipple cutouts. We became aware that Eric was leaving his tent, probably into the woods for a short time. It was an opportunity to speak. "He...both of you...were staring at my crotch. What could you see?" "Right up your shorts to your g-string. Sexy as hell." "Well, you're lucky. If we had been in this tent, I probably would have pulled out my vibrator and used it." "Who says I wouldn't want to watch." Hayley removed her shirt, her breasts bare. "I've never been as horny. I was this close," Hayley grabbed her boobs and pressed them together, "to raping both of you. Strip. I need your cock." "Why are you putting that on?" "You'll see." The bra not only didn't hide her nipples, but the design pressed against the sides of her breasts, enhancing her cleavage, but more Noticeably, forcing her areolas to protrude significantly through the holes. Her nipples were begging to be sucked, and Hayley could hear me gasp in awed appreciation. She relocated the lantern to the side as she straddled me and quickly impaled herself on my cock. Aside from the satisfaction of entering her, I was quickly aware that my balls were being thoroughly soaked by her leaking juices. I had never felt her so wet before, and I knew what thoughts must have been turning her on so fiercely. I was trying to maintain composure by thinking of anything not related to sex so I wouldn't cum too quickly, but I knew it was a losing proposition. Her thrusts were hot, wet, and fast, and I could feel an orgasm building. I wanted to reach for her nipples, but I knew that it would throw me over the edge. Despite my immersion in the sight of my wife atop me and the tension in my balls, I suddenly became aware of another noise nearby, a slight slapping sound that almost mirrored Hayley's thrusts. It had to be...Eric, jerking off. But the timing? It couldn't be coincidental. I reached for Hayley's nipples and gave them a tug. Hayley shuddered visibly and pushed me back flat on the sleeping bag. I beckoned a finger, and as she leaned forward I whispered in her ear. "Are...you...aware...of...your...shadow." Hayley's eyes grew slightly wider, and she raised herself slightly and turned her head to see what I had been watching since I became aware of Eric's presence. The lantern was casting a clear shadow of her profile on the tent wall, swaying breasts and all. She was too far gone to do anything about it, and collapsed against my chest, trying to stifle her orgasm as I came within her. Some measure of sanity returned quickly thereafter, as it always does, and I managed to turn off the light. Our breathing seemed loud in the sudden absence of our lovemaking, but it only took a few moments for my ears to relocate the sound of Eric jerking off. Hayley became aware too, as she looked up into my eyes, with a flicker of embarrassment giving way to a coy smile. The sound quickened, then slowed somewhat, then ended abruptly. We heard Eric take several soft steps, some rustling of fabric, and then the sound of the tent zipper. He must have been watching, and possibly listening from less than several feet from his tent. Hayley began to softly chuckle, but I was wondering what exactly might be discussed at breakfast. Hayley could feel me stiffen, amazingly for soon after cumming. She turned on her side and reinserted my cock within her. It was a long, slow, and ultra quiet coital embrace that we shared into the night, with the sounds of the wind rustling through the high tree leaves. Breakfast left much to be desired, as far as taste. A mix of grapes and trail mix took the edge off hunger, but that was it. We shared general pleasantries about how we slept, and I was generally surprised and relieved that Eric had not bluntly asked how the sex was the night before, as straightforward conversation, if you can call it that, had been his hallmark. Instead, he asked about the day's plans. "What did you plan on doing had I not come?" Interesting choice of words, that. "We were going to hike back to the main path, go up the trail 2-3 miles, meet up with the creek again, and then follow it back to here," I said. "You want to go for a hike?" "Sure, that sounds great." And it was true, we were going to go on a hike. But as we reentered our tent, I realized our planned trip was slightly more complicated than I had foreseen. Hayley had packed her bags for a trip with just the two of us. The only shorts she had brought were the hiking shorts she had worn the day before. And while she had brought changes in socks, she had otherwise brought only two pair of g-strings and two halter tops, somewhat loose but secured only by strings. The only bra she had brought was the one that she had revealed the night before, which wouldn't exactly assist in maintaining modesty. So my wife was to go hiking bra-less. Had it been just me, I would have been ogling and pawing at her all along the trail, which was her intent. But with Eric along, .I wouldn't be the only one ogling. After passing around the insect repellent and stocking up on water, we were off. It wasn't long before Eric was apologizing for upsetting our weekend. "I'm sure you were both planning on a little quality time without the kids around, and here I am." Hayley responded with the only thing she could, "Eric, don't be silly. If we didn't want you to come, we would have told you. You know us, and you know we would have. It's great to see you again after all this time. It's not the weekend I thought it would have been, sure, but it's been great to have you here." Eric replied, somewhat sheepishly, "Well, I...you know...I don't want to get in the way. If you want me to take a long walk and leave you alone for a while." I wasn't sure exactly how he meant that. It was almost like he was saying that he could go while asking if he could stay, instead. I wasn't sure how I wanted to answer that. Hayley and I hadn't had a chance to talk in private since we had arrived. "Eric, it's okay, all right? I'm glad you're here, too. We're old friends; it's good to be around you again. We three used to hang out together in school, too, remember?" "Okay, but. you know, even back then, Hayley didn't wear shirts like that" Eric looked at Hayley's chest, his gaze lingering a bit longer than he probably planned. Probably. "It's pretty obvious that you weren't expecting company." He had a point. Hayley had recently figured out that her breasts had "matured" to a 40D. Whatever top she wore, the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra was conspicuous, and her exertions on the hilly trail caused her breasts to jiggle continuously. They were eye magnets, for sure. Hayley responded, "Look, Eric. If you'll remember, I didn't have a chance to re-pack after I found out you were here. I didn't bring much in the way of clothing, and, honestly, I wasn't planning on wearing it much. So you're right about what we were planning for the weekend. But that doesn't mean we still can't enjoy ourselves, and I really am glad you came. So anyway, I'll just wear what I brought. If it makes you uncomfortable, let me know. Maybe I can wear one of Steven's T- shirts or something." "What, are you kidding? I think I'd rather see Steven in his clothing and you in yours." He winked at her. I spent most of my time, when not watching my step, ogling as I had intended. Eric, on the other hand, was naturally investigative on the species of trees and plants, and he was much more accustomed to walking in the woods due to his job. Therefore, he would stop behind us, catch up, venture off to the side briefly, and, when we rested, wait patiently for us. At our first stop, Eric did a fine job of casually standing in front of us while we were seated on a fallen tree. It didn't escape me, or, I'm sure, Hayley, that he was getting a great view of her cleavage as he moved about. And I noticed that Hayley, after fumbling with her water bottle, managed to lean over slightly more than necessary to retire her shoe strings, which were probably tied just fine anyway. So there it was. Hayley was giving a show of her tits. I couldn't tell how much of a show it was, seated beside her. But, good for her! I'm sure it's not many 39 year olds who can command an audience, and she was in fine form. At 5'5", she was average height. Or, the perfect height, for someone, like myself at 6'0", to pull close and kiss. Everything fit. Her brown hair was cut several inches below her shoulder. While many of the women our age have cut their hair, Hayley's figure was excellent, and there would be no reason for that particular concession to age be made for years yet. Her hips were wider than when we met in school due to having two kids, and she had matured to a woman's body from that of a girl. But she wasn't fat. Cellulite was nowhere to be seen in her legs or hips, and her breasts were the perfect size. They could be dressed conservatively and remain unremarkable, or they could be let loose and raise a hungering lust. Which was what I was feeling. I stood, and Eric casually changed his direction as if he hadn't been looking at Hayley's breasts. Hayley had just begun re-tying her other shoe, and I could see the view that she had been giving Eric. Her breasts were hanging slightly, giving more definition to her cleavage. The hem of her top remained loose, and by moving slightly, as Eric had, I could see the darker pink edges of her Areola, but her nipples remained barely covered. I hardly considered it the result of careful planning. Hayley, what were you up to? An excitement that bordered on dizziness made me realize just how close to happening this threesome fantasy was. It seemed that all it would take was a question to get the ball rolling. "Eric, would you be game for fucking my wife?" That wasn't the way to do it, but it would certainly work. Again, a certain sense of excitement coursed through me, as I realized that, at the moment, I wanted it to happen. I had to talk with Hayley. Eric was very accommodating by trailing behind us to check out trees and to gather several leaves for species he wasn't certain about. It was also my chance to do something besides ogle. I walked closer to Hayley, and reached for one of her breasts. Rather than receive a playful snarl that sometimes occurs when I feel her in a non-romantic occasion, she trembled slightly, as if she was almost orgasmic. I also noticed that, as we had been walking for about an hour, she had broken a light sweat. The moisture under her breast was apparent, and it was absorbed into the fabric of her shirt. It wasn't an issue now, but I could tell that the thin white fabric would become transparent as she continued to sweat. It occurred to me that this wasn't beyond her notice, or her original intention when planning the trip. But she also could have asked to borrow some clothing from me or Eric, and she hadn't. In fact, she. "Touch me again." What? My hand had fallen away from her breast so I cupped the other one, rubbing my fingers upwards to her nipple. She gasped audibly, and shook again. "Hayley, what..." "Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me, what do you smell?" I inhaled deeply. "Clean mountain air. A faint smell of decomposing leaves, maybe." And then I caught it. "And you." "I am so wet. This g-string isn't very practical, I've discovered. It rides up into my crotch. Steven, look at my legs." I looked. Wow. Her legs might appear to be sweaty, but it was her cunt juice leaking, and that was what I could smell. In typical solve it mode, I offered, "I've got a paper towel in my pack. I can." "No, you don't understand. I haven't decided yet. But I think I want to., you know. Our fantasy. I'm camping out in the woods, with nobody around. There's no one that would know. The man I love is here, and Eric is...we've always come this...Eric is the perfect guy for..." "A threesome. Yes, I know." I could see in her eyes that she wanted to say more. "I'm on the verge of turning 40. I'm fairly certain that my body isn't going to get better over the next 10 years. This isn't about love, you know. I love you. You're all that I want. But I think I would like the experience, and then a memory, of." She looked slightly at a loss of words, and she was still trembling as I rubbed each breast with the back of my index finger. "I know, of being the center of attention, of being desirable enough to attract two guys. Is that it?" She nodded, but still at a loss of words. "Hayley, it's part of the fantasy that we probably never shared. My fantasy for you, and for myself, includes really the same thing. I like having a wife that looks sexy enough to attract other men, proud in a weird way that you're desirable to other men." She looked relived that I could express what she was thinking. Then I saw the concern on her face. "But I wouldn't want to hurt you. It's not about lovemaking. I don't love Eric. I like him lots as a friend, yes, but it would really be like...like sex for sport, me conquering the game." She gave a little laugh. "Like sport fucking. I just want to try it for this once, but I have to know that you're okay with it." "I am." She looked up in a pleading way. "And that you'll still love me?" "I do. And I always will." Her nipples were hard points, and I rubbed them between my fingers. She pushed my hands away, the sensation obviously too much for her. "Steven, really? You really mean it? You'll let me fuck Eric?" There, she had said it. "Yes. With me there. Yes." "And you won't divorce me, or think of me as whore?" "Hayley," I paused, and held her hands in mine, "I love you." I moved one of her hands and pressed it against my shorts, where she could what was a very uncomfortable erection. "I want this too." I think. "Are you sure you want to?" "Yes. No. I think so. Let's see how it goes. But let me call the shots, okay? I want to be in control. If I go through with it." I could see Eric approaching down the path. I gave Hayley a kiss, which was a full, wet one, with her tongue. She was hungry for sex. When Eric caught up with us, I could see that he was more than a little curious about a certain odor, although he never was blatant enough to sniff towards Hayley. It almost smelled like we had already sex. I'm sure that he, as I did, took notice of what was becoming Hayley's see through top. It wouldn't be long, and her tits would be visible. What then? We checked our map and ventured off our path towards the stream. The undergrowth was heavy and hard to pass, so we opted to head back to the path and then back to camp. As we hiked, I noticed a change about her. At first, I decided it was a resolution that had come to, but that was only the start. It was confidence that was more descriptive. It manifested itself in different ways. Her gait changed slightly. She walked more erect. It struck me that earlier, she had been walking in a posture that would minimize her breasts. Now they were out there. She smiled more, she sweated more. When Eric wasn't looking, she gathered her shirt and wiped the sweat off her breasts and torso with no more concern than if she was wiping her forehead.. It didn't have quite the same effect as a wet T-shirt contest, but she certainly had our attention. Eric had the sense to steal glances during conversation and not comment on the fact that she was offering quite a view. We finally returned to camp. Eric said, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm headed for that little pool to cool off." "Sounds good to me," I added. "Be there in a minute. I'll grab some sandwiches from the cooler and some beer." Eric added. "Nah, why don't you go change. Steven and I will carry the cooler to the creek. It'll be like a wet bar." We started carrying the cooler and found a flat rock nearer the water level that would be convenient. The water was freezing at first, and then only very cold. After opening the cooler, it was only then that we realized Hayley had followed us. Not that I minded. Her top was going to look terrific when it was soaked. We both, by instinct, found a rock ledge to sit on while watching her enter the pool. Eric was a little slow on the uptake. "You're not going to change?" Hayley said what, I'm sure, was factual, but she said it in a dead-on sexy tone, just shy of the exaggeration of a seductress. "I...didn't bring one. I thought it would just be the two of us." She winked at him, and he clearly didn't know what to make of it. She removed her shoes and socks and entered the water. When she reached the cooler, the water level was at her waist. As she was getting the sandwiches out, she added, "These shorts were going to need to be washed anyway." Eric and I glanced at each other. I gave him a conspiratorial look and said, "I think the shirt needs it too!" Eric laughed, and Hayley turned with a "you mischievous boys" look. She handed us the sandwiches, then the beer, and the conversation was decidedly absent until the meal was finished. I got back into the water and found another shelf to sit on, one that, I was certain, Hayley and I had sat on and made love the previous year. Eric moved to a nearby shelf. Hayley waded over, dove underwater briefly, then emerged, pulling her hair back over her face. Her tits now had that "wet T-shirt" contest look, no question. Her nipples stood erect their full half inch length, clearly visible in almost every detail. Eric was open-mouthed, and I was at a loss for words myself. She was in charge, I kept telling myself. Still. "Hayley, would you get us another beer?" I was going to need it, at least. She did, and approached Eric very closely before handing him the beer, giving him quite an eyeful. Then, although there was ample room on my shelf for her to sit, she chose to sit in my lap. Aside from putting pressure on my cock, her position also kept her breasts above water and directly in front of Eric. "Hayley, I think your breasts have gotten quite a bit larger than college," said Eric. There, count on Eric to make it direct. I was glad this was out in the open, yet curious as hell how this would work, if it would work, and the odd sensation of dizziness came back with the realization that this was "really" happening. "Yeah. They were 34B's then, I think." She reached over for my beer and took a sip, a rarity for her. She must have been a lot more nervous than she sounded. "I didn't know what I was missing, I think. I used to say that `more than a handful is a waste,' but I don't think that's the case." She grabbed one of my hands, squeezing it under her breast, demonstrating that she was obviously bigger than a handful. "Steven, what do you think?" "I, eh..." "Hey, guys. Wait. Remember there's a single guy over here. I didn't even bring a girlfriend!" Hayley laughed in a carefree way that I could barely even remember hearing before. She turned slightly and wrapped her arms around me, kissing me. And her kiss was not a romantic one. It was her method of saying she wanted it hard, fast, and now. She broke the kiss and said ever so softly, "Yes?" It took a moment for me to realize what she was asking, but the question answered itself. I responded with a whispered "yes," noting the glint of excitement in her blue eyes. She kissed me again, this time in the "I love you" manner, and scooted off into the pool. She walked halfway to Eric and plunged underwater. The water was crystal clear, but it was still a surprise when she burst through the surface without her top. I could only see her back as she walked towards Eric, away from me. But it was one of the sexiest visions I've ever had. Eric was awestruck, his mouth slightly open, clearly not believing the turn of events. "Who says you don't have a girlfriend here?" She reached out to his hands, and literally had to pull them to her breasts. His hands didn't move. Hayley, I could tell, was nervous, probably wondering if she...we...had misread the signs. Eric looked over her shoulder at me. "Steven?" "It's okay. It's the first time for us, too." I wasn't sure if he knew what I meant, but he understood the permission. Hayley turned slightly, and I watch him as his hands reached for my wife's breasts. While they didn't look different as he cupped and stretched them, it was strange to see something so familiar yet not be able to feel them. He slid off the ledge to stand in front of her in the water, then bent to suck at her breasts. Hayley was no stranger to foreplay, but she had other ideas. She reached to his pants and began unbuttoning his shorts, then unzipping them. I was sure that she was pleased with what she felt underneath, she was smiling so much. She dipped underwater as she pulled his shorts down, returning moments later with them in hand, tossing them onto a rock. His hands returned to her breasts as they engaged in a kiss. Which was strange. We had fantasized about the sex, but never about a kiss. Unexpectedly, it made me jealous. If this made me jealous, how was watching them have sex going to be? It was a strange source of comfort that my hand subconsciously found my cock, which was rock hard, and began rubbing it through my shorts. I realized that I was extremely turned on, even watching my wife kiss another man. Hayley broke the kiss, finally, revealing that her hand had been working at his cock underwater throughout. "Steven, I'm very cold. Would you get our sleeping bags and towels and spread them out in front of the tents?" It made sense to me. My feet were getting numb. After I had spread the towels over the sleeping bags, I saw that Hayley and Eric were approaching. It was strange to see Eric naked. Even as roommates, we had avoided that familiarity. He was sporting an erection, and it felt weird even checking him out. He was slightly longer, but thinner, than me. However, most of my attention was on Hayley. She was still wearing her shorts, but she was topless, and her breasts were jiggling with every step. It occurred to me how infrequently I saw her naked while moving. It was always standing, lying down, getting dressed. It was a tremendous turn-on just to see her in this way. Hayley said, "Steven, I explained to him that this isn't about me and him. It's about you and me, and him. He's a bit nervous, but no more nervous than me. Anything else you want to add?" "Eric, this is really okay with me. I think! We had talked about something like this for a long time, although we never would have planned it. But we're here, and we both want it to happen. The main point is this, it's our job to pleasure her. That's it." Eric looked somewhat tense, but his eyes burned with desire as he continued to take in the sight of Hayley's breasts. "I've never experienced anything like this, but I've always dreamed about it. And even though I never said anything about it, even in college I always wanted to get in her pants. This is like a dream come true." "You're right. It is." said Hayley. There was a silent pause, as we each waited for the next move. Hayley looked at each of us briefly in the eyes, me first, then Eric. "I want you both to fuck me. Eric, help me with these." Hayley stuck her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts. Eric did, admiring the g-string that was buried in the folds of her cunt. Hayley had trimmed her cunt neatly in a narrow "V", but with the g-string nestled within her slit, her hair was on display. And then, even the little patch was gone, and my wife was standing in front of another man nude. They laid down on the towels, and I stripped to join them. Hayley said, "Steven, first, I want you to feel my cunt before we go any further." I placed my hand on her, and was surprised by the heat that I felt, as well as by the amount of fluids that had already escaped her cunt. "I've never seen you so wet." It was all I could say. Eric had been watching, and, as I removed my hand, he lowered his face to Hayley's pussy, where he inhaled deeply before giving her a long lash with his tongue. Hayley reached to lift his head. Eric looked like he wanted more foreplay, but Hayley quickly added, "There's time for play later. Right now, I want you to fuck me." Eric knelt at her legs, which were only partially open. In a variation of his sense of humor, he added, "Aren't you going to make me feel more welcome?" Hayley looked briefly confused, so I helped by reaching to her knee and pulling it up. She understood, spreading her legs wide, opening her cunt for him. It was quite a sensation to see my wife spread herself for another man. I watched as he guided the swollen head of his cock against her clit, teasing her. This prompted a sharp response from her, "IN me, not on me." And I saw for the first time another man's cock enter my wife, one smooth stroke and then my vision was blocked. I watched as her leg left my hand to wrap around his back. He was in deep, and she wasn't letting him out. I could see her facial expression change from lustful desire to passion as he thrust within her. Red splotches appeared at her neck, her lips parted for her heavy breaths, and her eyes fluttered. Her tits were flattened under his chest, and her hand was scratching at the towels. No, they were searching. She remembered me. I reached for her hand to hold it, but she threw it aside. I moved closer and placed her hand on my cock. She immediately grasped me with the tightest grip she had and began stroking me. I was so mesmerized by what I was seeing that my concentration was far from what I was feeling. I could tell that Eric was close to orgasm, and my wife encouraged him, surprisingly, I thought, "Yes, that's it. You feel so good. Cum inside me. You know you always wanted to. I want to feel you cum." His thrusts were so hard I wondered if they were hurting her, but it wasn't anything I hadn't done to her before. Eric's face tightened, and I knew she was getting her wish. She, too, was lost in the experience, her eyes fluttering. When the last of his orgasm subsided, he withdrew, a sight that I was surprisingly curious to see. Maybe it was because my view had been so limited, which was certainly something that I had never considered in the fantasy. But the result was. His cock was drenched with sticky juices and cum, and some of it oozed from my wife's cunt. In our usual love-making, she's usually ready to roll over and, with my help, finger herself to an orgasm. But not this time. She quickly got on all fours, spreading herself again. "Fuck me, Steven. Fuck me." It was only then that I realized my cock was still rock hard and that, somehow, I had managed not to cum. Her face was somewhat hidden by her hair, but it struck me that she wasn't even looking at me. She just wanted to be fucked. So I moved behind her and entered her with one quick thrust, noticing how different it was to enter her when she was so wet, so heated, and so open. I was fucking my wife's just-fucked pussy. Unbelievable. Eric slid his head underneath her dangling breasts, and I could hear Eric sucking noisily as Hayley whimpered from the added sensual input. She continued to arch her back and rock backward to meet each of my thrusts. She finally gave up on holding herself up on her hands, lowering herself to her elbows, no doubt filling Eric's face with tit. My self-control was at an end, and I grabbed her hips, pulling myself into her harder with each thrust. Hayley began to howl, somewhere between a squeal and a scream. She gave herself over to words. "That's it, Eric. Suck that tit. Don't move from it. Keep going. Steven. keep. Oh!. I'm going to cum." She lost herself in moans as she orgasmed, and I came within her, with massive throbs running through my cock. I was spent, but my cock didn't retreat as it normally did. I was still turned on as hell, with what I had witnessed. Eric, too, was showing signs that he was ready for another round. I decided that it wasn't youthfulness that allowed quick recoveries, it was the excitement. And I hadn't been this excited since our first year or two of sex. I was sure that Hayley was probably feeling the same. In our lovemaking, Hayley sometimes would get sore, and I was wondering if this would put a damper on our activities for a while. Hayley regained her breath and then nudged Eric to roll over on his back. She then stood astride him, her cunt in glorious view. "Steven, move a little closer." I knew what she was going to do and didn't pass up the opportunity. It was strange seeing Eric's cock as I neared his side, but my attention was quickly moved to my wife's cunt as she slowly, provocatively, descended onto Eric's cock. She reached back and felt the firmness of his cock, and she retreated slightly to better position herself to ride him. Then began the show. Her legs were taught as she raised and lowered herself slowly. I tried to commit each of the 15 strokes to memory, amazed at what I was seeing...at what we had allowed to happen. Then she settled onto him and began moving her hips in circles. Hayley has never been too fond of the taste of cum, so I was surprised that she beckoned me to stand, taking my cock in her hand and licking it, then sucking it as she rode Eric. We had talked through this scene in our fantasies, and here we were, doing it. Just a little while later, I came squirting onto her tits, watching as it beaded on her breasts and ran down. The sex, from this point on, was frequent but not constant. We all required a little time to recover between rounds, which allowed just enough of a break to add water to our dehydrated dinner packs and heat them with the small cook kit. The conversation wasn't deep and it wasn't about "old times." It was strictly on the new times, and what, specifically, we could do next. It wasn't the super kinky shenanigans of idle fantasies. We didn't cum on her face, or tie her to a tree, or in any way treat her like a "slut." It was all about sex, or, in Hayley's terms, sport sex - breasts, cunt, cocks, mouths, and hands. Later that night, our visit to Eric's tent fulfilled the possibility of what had been there the night before. We were naked, except for Hayley. She had brought out her special bra, as well as stockings and panties that matched the bra. She read to us again several stories from Eric's book, gradually losing her garments so she could place a hand on her clit as we fondled her breasts and listened. The stories led to the expected conclusion, which took us deep into the night with our play. We finally fell asleep, together. The following morning, the "questions" returned, a measure of reality for each of us. Eric had woken early and gone for a short hike, as he later explained, feeling restless about our relationship. He blamed himself for taking advantage of us, both in going camping and by "getting personal" with my wife. We reassured him that everything was okay, even though we weren't entirely sure it was. Or wasn't. It was too early to tell. But we could tell he was glad to hear this, because he offered to return with us for the week. To which we answered a gentle "no." We needed time for ourselves. But only after a couple more morning rounds! By lunchtime, we packed the site and hiked towards the cars. Eric would take souvenirs in a couple of ways. His tent smelled of the hours of sex that we had the night before, and Hayley stripped when we reached the cars to remove her g-string, which by that time was nowhere close to clean. She hung it on his rearview mirror, she said, as a safety precaution to keep him awake on the road. We bid Eric farewell, which again included a long kiss between Eric and Hayley. Then we went to the camp showers to clean up a little more properly than our frequent dips into the stream pool had afforded. During the trip home and for the following week, Hayley and I did a lot of talking, and a lot of screwing, some of which was hard sex, some of which was tender love. She reassured me that, while she had enjoyed the feeling of being fucked by another man, and had enjoyed Eric's cock in her hands and mouth, he wasn't "better" than me, just different. And it wasn't just the sex with another man that had excited her, it was the feel of my cock in her hand while he fucked her, or the awareness of my eyes upon them that made it an experience for her. It wasn't about Eric; it was about the two of us with a third, which was something completely new. Her favorite memories weren't of the intercourse, although she liked it a lot. First, there was the remembrance of all that nude skin touching her at once. We hadn't anticipated that. And secondly, it was holding an erect cock in each hand. This brought a sense of complete satisfaction that she had in her hands the essence of two men, both primed for sex, with just her. And the question had been modified. It wasn't "Could we ever, really, have a threesome?" It was "Did we want to again?" And when Eric called a month or so later to check up on us, the question was not nearly so hard to answer. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The Author would like to emphasize that while I have tried to make this story realistic, I in no way encourage or suggest that couples seek sex outside of their marriage. Comments I receive usually indicate that someone gets hurt. Enjoy the fantasy. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Comments and suggestions desired, especially from those who have shared it with their spouses. It would only take a few moments to make an author very happy... If you don't want me to respond due to privacy issues, just let me know. E-mail to: OneIdleHand@hotmail.com See my other stories at www.asstr.org/~IdleHand/ (case sensitive) -------------------------------------------------------------------- (c) Copyright 2002 This work is copyrighted to the author, with all rights reserved. -- This work may be archived and displayed on non-commercial web sites without permission, but please do not remove the author name or e-mail address. -------------------------------------------------------