I opened my eyes and light flooded in. I guess it must be morning. Is anyone else awake yet? Then I heard the toilet flush.
I opened my eyes a little farther and saw Isabel come back to bed from the bathroom. She climbed into bed and then I saw that Marie was sound asleep between us. The evening and the night came flooding back to me. Oh right. I remember now.
About that time, I realized that I too had to pee; also that the need had pushed me into a very rigid erection. Good old "morning wood." I climbed out of bed, trying not to waken Marie,and walked to the bathroom. Isabel's eyes followed my crotch appreciatively the whole way.
When I got back, Marie was just stirring awake. Isabel asked her, "So, how did you sleep last night?"
As I climbed into bed, Marie answered, "Very well, thank you."
I chuckled. Marie turned to me quizzically, and I said, "She already knows that."
Marie asked, "How? What do you mean?"
So I explained, "She woke up in the middle of the night and watched us fucking. I'm not quite sure when she woke up, but she might have watched me rubbing you too, even before I slid inside you."
Isabel smirked. "I'm pretty sure I saw everything. Or most of it."
Marie blushed deeply, and mumbled a few inarticulate noises. Then she said he had to pee, and climbed out of bed for the bathroom.
I replied, "That's because we know there will be more nights to come, so there's not so much urgency. Besides, I think we did manage twice in a night when we were first dating."
"Hmm. Maybe. But what I really want to know is ... What are your thoughts on monogamy now? And infidelity? Are they still as ... firm as they used to be?" She squeezed my cock playfully on the word "firm."
"Oh my gosh, I have no idea. I haven't had time to think about any of it yet. And it's not like I had time to think about it before last night happened!"
The toilet flushed. Marie appeared in the door but stepped back when she saw us cuddling.
I called out to her. "Come on in, Marie. We're just cuddling. Besides, even if we were fucking, I think we're way past being shy about that. Pretty sure you're one of the family by now." Relieved, Marie came into the room and walked over to the side of the bed. Isabel pulled back the blanket for her, revealing her hand on my crotch.
I fumbled for a reply. "Um ... well obviously I think she's sexy. (cough) But I wish you wouldn't run yourself down like that. I think your body is pretty sexy too, and I don't think you have to make it a comparison." To make my point, I cupped her mons with my hand and then started to play with her pubic hair.
At first Isabel replied with her usual sarcasm. "Oh sure, if you're into small-breasted fat chicks!" Then, as I continued to stroke her pubic hair and her outer labia, she said more quietly, "Oh. Mm. That's nice."
Marie was settling down on the edge of the bed. I asked her, "Could you help me here? I'm going to be busy at this end, but if you could take care of her breasts, or her neck, or whatever inspires you, that would be great." Marie smiled. "Whatever inspires me? That sounds like fun." With one finger she traced a line around Isabel's right ear that then followed her jawline to her chin, slipped down her neck, and traced lazily around her right nipple. Isabel's nipple stiffened. I wanted to watch what came next, but I had other things to do.
Scooting down the bed, I broght my face down to where I could kiss her mons, and then climbed between her legs so that I could kiss her labia too. For a minute I kept it to light kissing, teasing her with the promise of more but making her wait. Her scent was heady, and already I could smell how aroused she was. Slowly I began licking the outside of her labia, up one side until it joined the mons in a tangle of pubic hair, and then back dow the other side again. I heard Isabel sigh. Then I drove my tongue right up the crease in the middle, and she breathed in sharply. Finally I used my fingers to pull apart her labia and expose the treasures within: her clit, already stiff and red, and then the little lips like flower petals around her portal. This was where I wanted to be.
Her portal glistened shiny and pink with wetness. With two fingers together I pushed my way inside and heard her gasp. Then I brought down my tongue on the clit that had been waiting so desperately for it, and began to lick eagerly. By jutting it out, I made my tongue as stiff as I could—almost as stiff as her clit itself!—and rubbed it back and forth, faster and faster. Mostly I rubbed along the clit's shaft, which made Isabel rock her hips in synchronization. But whenever I reached the tip—the smooth little head that poked out of the surrounding skin—she yelped. Very sensitive.
Isabel was breathing harder and faster. Then I felt her hand grab the back of my head and push my whole face harder into her, at the same time that her legs clenched tightly so I couldn't budge. For another minute I licked her as hard and fast as I could, and I breathed in clouds of that intoxicating scent. Then she cried out, and her hips bucked sharply. After a second cry, her legs sprang open and she pulled my head away. Her clit was now too sensitive to rub directly. I wiped my face on the sheet and clambered up next to her. Marie was kissing her tenderly, and their tongues were gently entwined. But there must have been more that I missed while I was busy: one of Isabel's breasts showed deep scratches, and the other showed clear teeth marks. She was flushed and trying to catch her breath, but her nipples still reached eagerly for the sky.
I flopped one arm lazily across her tummy and asked, as softly and casually as possible, "How ya doin', babe?"
She pulled her mouth away from Marie's, and appeared to fumble for a minute trying to form words. Finally she said, slowly, "Oh ... my ... God ...." She took a deep breath. Then she waved a hand vaguely toward me so that it collided with my chest and asked, "How are you?"
To answer her question, I pushed her hand gently onto my crotch. How did she think I was? Despite all the exercise I'd gotten in the last twelve hours, I had just been inhaling the fumes of her arousal. She had locked my head into her vulva while her hips rocked in a mind-blowing orgasm. Of course I was hard again, and I needed to do something about it now. Her fingers glided teasingly up and down my shaft, and her finger traced a soft ring around my glans.
Her speech was still slow and labored, but finally Isabel said, "Right now my clit is too sensitive for any direct contact. But if you ...." She caught her breath. "... want to slide inside me, that would feel very nice."
So I climbed on top of her. After all my licking, her whole vulval area was dripping wet; so it was easy to slip inside her. I gave one deep thrust to make sure I bumped her cervix. But after that my movements were slow and almost languid. Meanwhile I stared deeply into her eyes.
What her eyes told me was a story of naked desire, of always needing more. More money, more sex, more status, more sex, more recognition, more sex, more attention, more sex. I saw the frightened little girl she had been when she was growing up, and the proud woman she became—a proud woman who still always needed more to protect herself from the violence and neglect that she had learned to expect early in life.
For my part, I was thinking, I love you. You know I love you. I married you. You've betrayed me before. And you will betray me again. I don't know how many times, but so many! I know this for a fact. And yet ... I still love you. Despite all of it. Betray me, mock me, spit on me, or hate me. I will love you in spite of it all. And this—here, now, plunging and thrusting deep inside of you—this is my home. This is where I belong. You know it, and I know it.
After several minutes of contentedly sliding in and out, I began to pick up speed. The tension began to build up inside me. Then in a couple more minutes I hit the point of no return, ... the point when I couldn't stop even if I wanted to, ... the point where I became a slave to my body. I clutched Isabel tightly to me; I pumped into her deeply and furiously; I no longer had any will of my own.
And then suddenly it released. All I felt was bliss, and an end to compulsion. My cock pulsed every half-second: squirting inside her, recoiling, squirting again. On and on. Like I said before, it lasted for minutes or for years. I sagged onto her breasts and struggled to catch my breath.
In time, the world returned. I opened my eyes again, and found I could focus ... on the bed. Let's start with that. There was a bed under us. I stretched out my arms, braced against the bed, and pushed myself up. Isabel still looked like she was in a dream. After another miute, my cock shrank enough that it naturally tumbled out of her. So I rolled over on my side next to her. For a minute—maybe two, maybe three—we stared contentedly at each other.
Then ... finally ... she spoke. "I need a shower." Wow. OK, we are back to the mundane world again. "I also need coffee and breakfast. If I go get a shower now, can you start some coffee? And some food for the three of us?"
Of course she was right. Some recent author wrote, "After the ecstasy, the laundry." And that's how it is. No matter how great the ecstasy, the real world won't be denied. I told her, "Yes, of course. I'll start it right now."
I climbed out of bed, and headed for the kitchen. Then Isabel climbed out of bed, and headed for the shower.
That left Marie, who had watched us make love (and who had actively stimulated Isabel), but who had had no release of her own for the last eight hours.
What Marie said was, "I'll be there in a minute."
But in fact what I saw was her sitting up in bed, with the covers up around her waist, and with her hand actively bouncing underneath the covers.
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