In high school, except for my senior year, I didn’t
have a girlfriend. I played in the stage band, hating
to share my position with any other trombone player,
even though we were all pretty good friends. The band
director looked it from an educational position and
his goal was to have as many students as possible
comfortable in the jazz idiom of their music
education.
My senior year, I dated a girl from my church who
dressed very modestly, and when we went to the beach
she wore a one piece swim suit and when lying on her
stomach on the beach towel, covered her upper chest
with a towel so that there was no way to see anything
if I should try to sneak a peek down her front.
When I visited at her parent’s house, her dad would
look in on us now and then to do a ‘hand check’ to
make sure we weren’t misbehaving. Not a chance; I
would get a hard-on just holding her hand walking
down the street, and we didn’t even kiss until the
last night before I went off to college. There was
never any doubt that she might be interested in
another boy, so there was no reason to be jealous.
Away from home, things changed rapidly; I felt a
breast for the first time on the night train going
home for Thanksgiving my freshman year. This was a
girl I met at the college, and we were off to the
races (so to speak) as soon as we returned to school
after the holiday. I never saw my high school girl
again.
Donna was of a churchly background also, and felt
guilty that she had let a boy she dated the previous
year ‘feel her up’ and finger her. He had asked if he
could put his penis in her ‘just to see if it would
fit,’ but she had refused. I was devastated, and she
felt terrible for ‘cheating’ on me before we even met
‘ like damaged goods, I suppose. At any rate, I
couldn’t keep my hands off Donna, or out of her
pants. On several occasions, I would jerk off while
she held my penis in her mouth, and we had anal sex a
few times.
Vaginal sex however, was out of the question. She
wanted to save that for our wedding night, as we soon
realized that we were meant for each other and
assumed we would get married shortly after college.
Now, the jealousy demon consumed me, and I was
definitely a pain about keeping her all to myself,
which she resented somewhat. I even scolded her once
for sitting with her legs crossed so that someone
could see up her leg, and reminded her to close the
curtains of her dorm room when she changed her
clothes. We became officially engaged, but she called
it off my junior year.
During my first marriage, things changed in my mind,
and I told Sarah that I had a dream that she had
‘entertained’ the high school basketball team at a
party. She answered that in fact, she had probably
dated all those boys at one time or another, so I
guessed that her boobs had seen the light of day on
several occasions, and that quite a few boys in her
school had played ‘stinky finger’ with her.
She did admit that she had been drinking on a date,
had ‘gotten carried away’ and that her boyfriend had
actually fucked her -a little bit ‘ she said. My mind
dwelled on the fact that she had been intimate with
boys before me, and I was curiously aroused by the
thought; I allowed my imagination free reign. Well
into our marriage, I fantasized about having a
threesome with her and my best friend, and even
proposed the plan to my wife, but she expressed shock
at the suggestion and flatly refused.
I still wonder what it would have been like to be
getting a blow job ‘ Sarah on her back – and feeling
her body being jolted back and forth and watching as
my buddy plowed into her spread-eagled legs at the
other end. I probably would not have been able to
hold back more than a minute before gushing my wad
down her throat.
Another scenario would have the two of us tag-team
fucking Sarah, neither of us cumming until each of us
had had several turns. I found out later during our
divorce arguments that she had fucked her cousin’s
boyfriend during the time we were engaged and ‘on the
pill’ for me. So much for her moral standards and
refusing the three-way!
So my wife now, also previously divorced, is a music
teacher, and gives piano lessons on the side. We met
in college, but did not date, each marrying the wrong
person for some reason. When we first became
intimate, I expressed curiosity about how many men or
boys she had been to bed with, knowing of course, her
previous husband, and probably two guys in college
that she had dated pretty seriously.
I also thought it a reasonable assumption that she
had sex with a guy she had become engaged to after
high school. She did not answer me directly, only
saying ‘not that many,’ so I guessed five for sure,
but probably not more than ten. I find it erotic to
think of her spreading her legs for someone other
than myself when we make love.
My wife is currently starting to teach piano to the
husband of a secretary at the school where she
teaches. The lady is paying for the lessons as a
birthday present for her husband, and he comes to our
house for lessons. When we were introduced, I thought
he looked remarkably like my wife’s previous husband,
but much better looking.
I usually work in my shop in the basement during the
lessons and keep the doors closed to keep my noise
from intruding.
The first lesson kind of surprised me in that I only
heard the piano being played maybe the last ten
minutes of the hour long lesson, but could hear their
voices dimly in pleasant conversation, with
occasional laughter. The second lesson started out
the same way, with no music being played, and when I
came upstairs to get a beer, I noticed that the door
to the living room was not closed completely, and I
could see them sitting on the couch together chatting
in a friendly manner.
Joan was wearing a pink low cut tank top with
spaghetti straps and as I watched, she would lean
forward occasionally to make a point. Scott’s eyes
drifted down, and I could feel my pulse quicken at
the thought that my wife was teasing another man,
offering him a chance to look down her front. She
always wears push-up bras, which I really enjoy, and
as Scott’s eyes lingered on their target, I knew what
he was seeing.
After a bit, the music began and I could hear Jean
giving instructions about playing piano. Coming
upstairs again and looking through the half open
door, Scott was sitting on the piano bench and Joan
was standing next to him on his left side. She
reached across to turn the page of the music and said
something to Scott. He turned his head towards her to
listen, and his face bumped hard into her breast.
‘Oops!’ he said. Joan smiled and said, ‘That’s OK.’
and backed away ‘ but only a little bit.
The next lesson, I left the cellar door open, though
I was making quite a bit of noise with the table saw.
After a bit, Joan called down that she was closing
the door because of the noise, though I could not
hear any piano playing between cuts with the saw.
After a bit, I heard the stairs right above my
workbench creak. Our bedroom is upstairs. On the
pretense of going to the refrigerator, I found that
the door at the top of the cellar stairs was locked;
it had been repurposed from an old bathroom door
during some remodeling, and I never bothered to
change the door knob. Because of the way the door was
hinged, the locking part of the doorknob was on the
outside.
When it was time for the piano lesson to end, I came
up the stairs again, and pretended to discover that
the door was locked. After some pounding, Joan came
and opened it and apologized for her mistake when she
had closed it earlier. I noticed their hands brush
against each other as Scott went out the front door.
I think that for a threesome to go well, the other
man should probably be the wife’s choice; the piano
lessons have me thinking again of the possibility.