Professor's Wife - Part 2

Info trailmate
30 Mar. '20

Most of the places and institutions featured in this story are real and the events related actually happened. However, the reader who tries to discover the identities of the persons in this story will be frustrated by my having changed all names and places.

It had been nearly a half year since we’d moved from Wisconsin to New Jersey and unlike my husband, Bert, I still hadn’t come to peace with the whole thing. An outsider viewing our situation might pretty quickly come to the conclusion that I resented Bert having profited much more from the move than I had. True, Bert’s situation had improved enormously from the move while mine had tanked. As a university professor of electrical engineering, he had gotten a serious salary jump and he was now a tenured professor at a more prestigious institution. On the other hand, I had been reduced from being a respected and in-demand speech therapist to being an unemployed speech therapist having to take courses in order to get a license to practice a profession that I’d been practicing for close to 20 years.

But that wasn’t the only thing that I’d lost as a result of the move. In Madison, Bert had been one of those professors who allow their academic lives to mix with their personal lives. He had a home office and often worked at home, but there was more - significantly more. Popular with his students, both graduate and undergraduate, they tended to show up at our house for advice, questions or just plain to shoot the shit. Plenty of wives object to that kind of situation and put a stop to it or don’t even let it start. Our friends, at least those who mentioned it, thought that those students were making up for the children that Bert and I couldn’t have – in the way that some childless couples keep pets as surrogate children. True enough, had we had children, that state of affairs probably would never have gotten started. In any case, no one, not even our closest friends, suspected what was really going on and to what extent.

It all started one afternoon when Jerome, a red headed 19-year old undergrad dropped by to collect a set of notes that he’d forgotten after a tutoring session the day before. Jerome, from a small town in Iowa, was one of those shy, sort-of geeks whose experience with girls was limited to a short stint going steady in high school. I say ‘sort-of’ geek because he wasn’t brilliant, just a hard working young guy on his way to getting a bachelor degree and becoming a mid-level engineer in some Midwestern power company. Without intending to, I gained his confidence and he began confiding in me – personal stuff like his insecurities and inexperience. One thing led to another and I was hooked. There’s no shortage of sexually inexperienced geeks, both real and sort-of, in the engineering schools and over the years, I surely sampled my share.

It wasn’t that there was something wrong with my marriage – socially, intellectually, sexually or otherwise. Quite the opposite, in fact, I venture to say that sexually, my marriage with Bert was and still is in the upper 5 percentile. It’s just that most people, wives included, develop passions for activities - tennis, literature, music, gardening, etc. One of my passions turned out to be young men studying under my husband.

In this new setting in Princeton, it would take time to develop the connections to pursue my passion for young male students. That and the impossibility of practicing my profession had made me somewhat bitter and resentful.

But Bert was not the target of that resentment. My resentment was aimed at the current political leaders in Wisconsin – and even more so, the deplorables who had elected them. Essentially, policies introduced by the new governor had left Bert with no other choice but to look for a professorship elsewhere.

Most of our new acquaintances think Bert changed jobs for better pay. Yes, the new governor had frozen faculty salaries but that wasn’t the big issue most folks would think it was because Bert supplemented his professor’s salary by doing consulting work. No, the problem for Bert lay in the new governor’s approach to science. Generally speaking and in the normal course of things, science is supposed to uncover facts and politicians are supposed to consider the facts when making policy. The new governor’s approach was the reverse – he preferred to make policy and then find scientists willing to produce facts to back up his policies.

As a professor of electrical engineering in the very unsexy field of power generation and transmission, Bert was no stranger to being attacked when his scientific publications ran counter to the wishes of special interests. At one time, environmentalists were proposing massive solar generation plants in the world’s great deserts. Bert wrote an article showing that the transmission losses would be so great that the whole idea was nonsense. Overnight, he became the favorite whipping boy of most environmentalists and for a time was regularly attacked in magazine and newspaper articles and opinion pieces. For Bert that wasn’t a problem. He relished being in the line of fire – even seemed proud to be there.

Of a more serious nature and a big problem was when he wrote an article not convenient to the power industry. Those folks have money to engage big law and they do not hesitate to sue. That was okay with Bert too – at least as long as the university had a policy of defending its scientists against such specious liability claims. When the new governor ended that policy and appointed an industry-friendly committee to recommend which cases where a professor would be backed up, Bert began looking for a new job.

So here we were on the East Coast, my husband with more prestige and a bigger salary and me taking courses so I could work in a profession that I’d been working in for almost 20 years.

Fortunately for us, the equity in our 2800 square foot home in Madison was enough for the down payment on a 1685 square foot house in Princeton. Unfortunately though, downsizing forced us to part with some of our favorite pieces of our furniture, including a 4-seat leather sofa that just didn’t fit in the living room of the 1685 square foot house.

I was shopping for an affordable smaller replacement and after getting shocked by prices at top line furniture stores, thought to stop at Home Depot. After pretty quickly getting disgusted by what they had to offer and having some time to kill, I started strolling around the store. Before long the JACUZZI bathtubs caught my eye. I’d never really looked at these things before so the sizes took me by surprise. Not so much the 60 and 66 inch length but the 42 inch width. Wondering how roomy one of these giants would feel, I pulled off my shoes and got in the biggest one on display.

Sitting there relaxing, I closed my eyes and imagined that there was hot water streaming out of the jets and Bert was sitting opposite me. I imagined him fondling my boobs and me taking his erection in my hand. Then a high male voice brought me out of my reverie.

“Lots of room in there. Real nice, ain’t it?”

Opening my eyes, I saw a slightly built man, around 5’-7’’, mid-50’s, black hair with lots of gray speckles, longish nose, narrow chin and a very faint hint of a pot belly. His smock identified him as a Home Depot employee and the name tag on it told me his name was ‘Eddie Traverse.’ (Some months later, I started reading Daniel Silva’s Gabriel Aron series of spy novels and decided that Eddie bore a resemblance to Gabriel Aron.)

“Well yes it is nice. Yeah there is indeed lots of room.” Just in case he was making a come on, I added, “Yeah, room for me and my husband.”

He wasn’t taken back a bit. “I’m always glad that we have so many on display. That way folks can try them out and see what size they really need.”

“Too bad you don’t have one filled and running. Then customers could really try them out. Like driving a demo before you buy a car.”

“From time to time we discuss putting in a wet demo model, but the idea always stops with talk. You see Ma’am, we’d have to have a changing room, showers, make reservations and so on and so forth. We just don’t have room in the store for the infrastructure. And that’s not even mentioning the people we’d have to hire to run the whole demo service.”

I looked at his name tag again to be sure I’d gotten his name right. “So Eddie, your customers just have to imagine how good it is.”

“Yes Ma’am, I am afraid so. But you know most folks have been in a spa at one time or another. Would you and your husband be in the market for a home spa or bathroom JACUZZI?”

“Actually, we just moved here from Wisconsin and we’re still getting our house organised. Oh by the way, I’m Sara.”

We shook hands. “Real nice to meet you Sara.”

Flashing a polite smile, I replied, “My pleasure Eddie.”

I thought he’d walk away looking to serve more promising customers. Instead he leaned in a little closer and continued in a lower voice and a conspiratorial tone. “You know Sara, the fact that you got in that tub to check the size tells me that you’re a person who might become interested in getting one. I’d bet that if you had a chance to experience the pleasure one of these JACUZZI tubs can give you, you’d start trying to convince your husband.”

“Well Eddie, like I said before, it’s too bad you don’t have one here up and running.”

He leaned in closer and in an even lower voice and in the same conspiratorial tone, went on. “Actually Sara, I’m not supposed to do this but you do look like someone trustworthy. If you really wanted to try out one of these in-bathroom JACUZZI’s, I could arrange it.”

“No kidding? But Eddie, like I said, we’re just getting our house organised. I really wouldn’t want to put you to a bunch of trouble for something so indefinite and then end up months and months from now, not even happening at all.”

“Sara, your average sales associate just looks at what they can sell today or tomorrow. That’s not me. For me a sale that happens a year from now is just as good as one that happens tomorrow. So waddaya think? Wanna try out the real thing – with water?”

At that point, the best thing for me to do would have been to refuse as politely as I could. Trouble was that my judgment was clouded by boredom and being ticked off. “So where would I have to go to make this wet trial?”

“I got a 60 x 36 - not so big as what you’re sitting in, but it’s hooked up. I live just over in Yorkshire Villages – in Lawrenceville. Five minutes from here, 24 Sparrow Road. If you’re interested, meet me there or you can just tail me over.”

“You “You mean like now?”

“I’m off at four. Ah, let’s see, that’s in 40 minutes. You got any shopping to do till then? Or if you don’t have time today, just come back another day.”

I should have told him I needed to get home and get supper ready for my husband. Thing was, Bert was away at a conference and I’m not that fast at thinking up a lie. And I was curious about the JACUZZI tub and I rationalised that I could always chicken out and stand him up. So I gave him an answer that sounded committed but from which I could always back away from. “There’s a furniture store over in Mercer Mall that I wanna have a look into. What say I meet you at your place? Say around ten after four?”

Eddie agreed readily and gave me his business card after writing the address on the back. I could still back out. But I didn’t.


24 Sparrow Place turned out to be in a condo complex and looked pretty upscale for a $15 per hour Home Depot employee. I got a little edgy but you never know. Maybe he was living off a big insurance settlement. Or was he retired military? His age would fit that scenario. Just then an older blue Nissan sedan pulled into a parking space in front of number 24 and from across the street where I was parked, I could see it was Eddie who got out.

Inside his condo looked pretty nice, in fact there was almost irrefutable evidence of a woman’s touch. Then it occurred to me that maybe I should ask. “Eddie, you live here alone?”

“Naw. I’m married. Lucille, my wife, she’ll be home from work around five thirty.”

“So do I need to be out of here by five? Let’s see, that’s hardly an hour from now. Or maybe I should just go now?”

“Don’t matter if you’re here or not. She’s used to company.”

That got me even more concerned than if he’d lived alone. “Eddie, I’m just not into that sort of thing. Maybe I should go.”

“No need to. You see, Lucille and I trust one another 100%. I’ve used my own tub for demo’s before. If you’re in the tub when she gets home, won’t be the first time.”

Somehow I began trusting him, maybe because of his non-macho appearance and high voice. I decided to pursue another question. “Surely this apartment didn’t come with the JACUZZI tub?”

“Naw, I put it in myself. Come on, I’ll show you. It’s in the bath off the master bedroom.”

And so it was. Through a doorway off the living room, we went into a nicely furnished master bedroom and then into a largish bathroom. Eddie didn’t waste any time starting the water. “Okay, it’ll take 10 minutes or so to fill. Meantime, care for a drink? Gin and tonic is my specialty.”

He was pretty fussy making the gin & tonics so we barely got a few sips before Eddie looked at his watch and announced that 10 minutes had gone by and the tub should have filled. “I’ll show you how the jets get turned on. Take your drink along. No rules against glasses in the tub like at a those hotel spas.”

We went back into the bath and he showed me how to regulate the jets. Then very proper-like, he left and I stripped and got in the water, which by then had gotten really foamy from bath crystals and the air being shot in. It was indeed very nice. I laid back relaxing and reminiscing over bathtub sex I’d had with my husband and started masturbating. Before long, my glass was empty and about then Eddie called from the bedroom. “Sara, can I bring you another drink? Gin & tonic okay second time around?”

A few minutes later, I heard his knock on the bathroom door. “Got your drink ready.” Then in very proper polite tone, continued, “Okay if I come in now?”

“Sure, I’m submerged.”

He came in with two drinks and handed one to me. We clinked glasses and said ‘cheers.’ For some reason, I felt totally at ease with Eddie. Perhaps because he wasn’t a handsome man and he had such a high voice, I couldn’t imagine him trying to seduce me. When he turned as if to leave, I stopped him. “Eddie, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not drink alone.”

“Yeah, they say people drinking alone get to be alcoholics.” There was a cushioned Ottoman that from the looks of the removable top must have served as a laundry basket. That’s what he sat down on.

I looked at his face a little closer. No puffy red nose with veins showing. Clearly Eddie wasn’t an alcoholic. “I’m not worried about becoming an alcoholic. It just nicer having somebody to talk to while I enjoy trying out this JACUZZI.”

He’d mentioned my Midwestern accent and asked how long I’d been living in the East so I told him the whole story of Bert getting the professorship at Princeton and our move that I was only slowly coming to grips with. Then, curious about him, I asked. “So Eddie, you been at Home Depot a long time?”

“Little over 4 years. Since I retired from the Army. Thirty-year man I was. Retired a master sergeant. Retirement pay’s okay. Tried staying home, doing nothing but it all got too boring. Pay at Home Depot is crap but it keeps me busy. See, Lucille and I never had kids.”

We chatted awhile longer. He went on some about his Army experiences and travels. Then we heard the front door open and close and a cheerful female voice called, “You here Eddie?”

“Back here in the bath, Honey. Got a lady customer in here trying out the JACUZZI.”

Shortly, a 50-some lady dressed in a service uniform came into the bathroom grinning and came right up to the tub and put out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lucille. Eddie trying to sell you a tub?”

She asked him to get her a drink and when he left, sat down on the Ottoman. Lucille looked to be a few inches taller than Eddie, stocky figure with slightly noticeable breasts, auburn hair in tight curls and a husky female voice.

I told her I was glad she was okay with Eddie having me come in and try out the tub without her being home. Her answer was longer than I’d expected and a big surprise to boot.

“For Eddie and I, trust is everything. Not trust like you might think about it, or actually I don’t know about you, let’s say our trust isn’t like what most people think of as trust. You see our marriage kinda goes in the direction of what some people call an open marriage. Not that we’re out picking up partners all the time. Actually we don’t really go out picking up partners at all. The thing is, you see, I had abdominal surgery that didn’t go as planned and as a result, I can’t have penetrative sex. This was back when Eddie was still in the Army. Both of us still had a strong sex drive and we compensated with oral, breast and hand. My god, we even got books, watched videos on fellatio, cunnilingus and hand jobs. I don’t wanna brag or anything, but I got to where I dish out a pretty mean blow job and my hand jobs are even better. So we got along okay and Eddie was fine without having a pussy to put his magnificent penis into.

“A big change in our lives came around the time Eddie retired out of the Army. Shortly before, my sister Maryanne lost her husband to cancer and I went to stay with her at her house in Edison. Once Eddie was out of the Army, he moved in too and we stayed with her for a while until we settled here in Princeton.

“Maryanne and I, we always been close. Talk about anything, we could. Of course she knew I couldn’t have intercourse and the same time, having lost her husband, was beginning to really miss getting laid. Even talked about going to pick-up bars. One day we’re moping about how neither one of us was getting laid – like really laid, I mean. Then she says we shouldn’t be moping so much because poor Eddie, he wasn’t getting really laid either. That not only got us away from feeling sorry for ourselves, it also got us looking for a better way to deal with the situation. Maryanne was the one who came up with the solution. At first I just said ‘no,’ but she persisted and eventually I saw the light.”

I thought I knew what the light was but I could see she wanted me to ask. “And the light you saw was ……?”

“Well think about it. Maryanne, she had a perfectly good pussy and my husband, he had a very perfectly beautiful penis.”

“So then the two of you decided to share?”

“Share? Yes, but not like in porn videos and erotic literature where a couple decides to do it for a thrill. Sharing Eddie with Maryanne, it’s more like doing something so both their lives would be better.”

I was curious as hell. How much should I ask? I decided to go slow. “Was it hard, I mean difficult to go through with it?”

“Difficult to actually do it? Sort of. Well, first off, Maryanne and I decided on our own. It took a while to decide how to bring it up with Eddie - we were scared of how he’d react. How do you tell your husband that you want him to fuck your sister?”

She paused to take a sip of her drink, almost as if to give me a chance to get out of hearing more. I could have stopped her then by craftily changing the subject but I was really interested. And the story was giving me some tingles in my nether regions. “So how did you break it to him?”

“In the end, it just sort of happened. One evening the three of us were sitting in her living room. Had a few drinks, some soft jazz was playing on her stereo, I just up and reiterated the situation of neither Maryanne nor Eddie having anyone to have penetrative sex with. Eddie pretended to be surprised, even offended, but he never could put much over on me and I saw through it. Maryanne and I teamed up and pretty quick, he was on board.”

I had to know more. “So then the three of you went in the bedroom and did it?”

“I wanted them to go in the bedroom by themselves, at least the first time. I thought that way it’d be easier for them to get used to doing it together. At least that’s what I told myself then. Truth was though, in spite of being the main instigator, when the moment came, I couldn’t bear the thought of watching him make love to another woman so I stayed in the living room.”

I sympathized with her and told her so.

Interrupting her with my sympathy gave her time to get curious about my situation. “So how ‘bout you Sara. You and your hubby into sharing?”

Since we hadn’t yet developed much of any kind of social network there in New Jersey, I could truthfully answer in the negative. Had I been ready to really open up, I could have told her about the sessions I’d had with some of my husband’s students and post docs back in Wisconsin. Just the thought of those times warmed me up a little more and facilitated what was to come that afternoon.

So I lied ‘no’ and apologised for interrupting.

She took the cue and went on. “Funny thing though, the racket they made, I’d just as well been in the bedroom with them. Afterwards they came out in robes and sat on the couch with me. Eddie was between us and he hugged and kissed me to no end, so much he'd appreciated being able to do it again. It was almost like Eddie had fucked me and not my sister. Maryanne was happy as hell too. She leaned across Eddie and hugged and kissed me too – sister-like though. You can’t believe how good it felt to have made the two of them so happy.”

“And since then? The three of you get together and the two of them just go off to the bedroom and have sex while you wait in the living room?”

“It wasn’t too long before they got comfortable together, comfortable enough that they wanted me to be there too. Now when it gets towards bedtime, the three of us just go off to bed together. Or sometimes we go in the JACUZZI together and do all kinds of kinky stuff. Like he gets up on his knees and I jack him with Maryanne looking on. Then she sits on the edge of the tub and he eats her out. Afterwards, we all go to bed naked and play. Cause one of us always makes him cum in the tub, he’s always soft when we get in bed.”

I couldn’t resist interrupting again. “So then Maryanne has to wait until Eddie recovers.”

“In principle, yeah. But we don’t just lay there and wait. Sometimes me and Maryanne play with him together until he gets hard enough to fuck her. Sometimes he plays with me while she watches and then they fuck. There’s all kinds of variations, you just gotta be open and not have a bunch of jealousy hang-ups. I know it’s hard to believe, but watching them go at it - it’s always a big turn-on for me. I always end up masturbating.”

“Lucille, didn’t you say before that you couldn’t have penetration sex?”

“Yeah I did. It’s my vagina that’s screwed up. My clitoris is just fine.”

“Something else, these women who come here and try out the JACUZZI, does Eddie ever get in the tub with them?”

“Sometimes. Not always. Last one was maybe a month or so back. Unless I’m here, he never lets things go that far.”

“And Lucille, you’re okay with that – watching your husband strip and get in the tub with another woman?”

“More than okay with it. I really get a tingle watching the woman’s reaction when his underpants come off. Some just stare, some gasp and have to catch their breath. Guess it depends on what she’s used to. You see, Eddie’s hung pretty well.”

I had to admit that I too was one of those women who get excited seeing a guy’s equipment.

Lucille smiled and went on. “Then there’s something else that’s fun watching. Don’t happen every time though. It’s the way they deal with Eddie being circumcised. The one’s that don’t have much experience with a cut penis, they never think to lube him up.”

Being pretty interested in sex, I’d read up a lot about male genital physiology and knew that circumcised is not equal to circumcised. Some guys are cut tight, others not so tight. My husband Bert is not cut so tight so I can jack him off pretty nicely without lube. Not that lube doesn’t help his experience, it’s just that if the tube isn’t close at hand, I don’t bother going looking for it and he never complains. From what Lucille was saying that lube was an issue for Eddie, I assumed he must be cut pretty tight.

After all of Lucille’s bold sex talk, I thought I’d let her know that when it came to hand jobs, I’d been around the block too. “I think there’re lots of girls who just don’t know anything about using lube for a hand job, whether their guy has a foreskin or not. The uncut guys I’ve had all liked me to lube them up. Come to think of it, guys have told me what they really like about the happy end in a massage parlour is the slippery hand. They say it feels a lot like a vagina.”

“You sure sound like a girl Eddie would like to get in the tub with.”

“You sure you wouldn’t mind, Lucille?”

“Just the opposite. Like I said before, I get a real tingle watching. Shall I tell Eddie he needs to get undressed?”

I just smiled and nodded in the affirmative. It did occur to me then that Eddie was taking an awful long time getting her drink. Only later did it occur to me that he was just giving her time to get me in the mood for a communal bath with her husband.

He did come back with the drink and in handing it off to her, she must have communicated my willingness because when he turned around towards me, he smiled and pulled off his Tee shirt. His hairy chest wasn’t exactly a model for a fitness magazine cover but at that moment, it wasn’t his chest that interested me. And his belly wasn’t quite as obnoxious looking as I’d expected.

I expected him to rip down his trousers and shorts but he just stood there arms hanging loosely. My first thought was that he expected me to expose him but then Lucille, having taken a good swallow from her drink, got up and from behind him, reached around and unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. Then she gave me a questioning look as if she wanted to be sure that I was game for what was to come. My expectant smile was all she needed and Eddie’s pants were down to his ankles and she helped him step out of them.

All was silent, no one spoke or moved. Then I became aware two things about the same time. One was that Lucille and Eddie were looking at me expectantly and two was that I was staring at the bulge in his underpants. When I broke my stare, Lucille put her thumbs and forefingers behind the waistband of Eddie’s underpants and looked at me with smiling expectancy – sort of like asking if I really wanted to go ahead with it.

By that time, my patience was wearing a little thin. “Get him uncovered and in the tub before the damn water gets cold.”

Lucille pulled forward and down on the elastic and his penis jumped out. Lucille hadn’t been exaggerating, Eddie did have a big one and it was indeed foreskin-free. I couldn’t help smiling appreciatively even though what Eddie had sticking out didn’t look quite as big as what I was used to with my husband, Bert. Of course that size comparison was something I needn’t mention and didn’t.

After working his underpants down his legs and getting them off completely, she stood behind him and took his hard penis in her hand. “See Sara, I told you Eddie has a big one.” Then she let go of it, clapped him on his butt and he got in the tub with me.

As big as the tub was, our legs needed to intermingle and Eddie was no stranger to taking advantage of intermingled legs in a tub so it wasn’t long before I felt one of his feet on the inside of my thighs. I was no stranger to bathtub play either so I followed suit and then went a step further by stretching my leg so my toes were stroking his sack and penis. He had to catch his breath and then responded by stretching a leg and I felt his toes in my crotch. The foam kept Lucille from seeing what was going on under water but she told me later that our expressions and sounds told her exactly what was going on and watching got her whole crotch tingling.

Playing footsy is kind of cool and kinky but let’s face it, we humans simply do our best work with our hands. I sat up and reached for Eddie’s crotch. His response was to spread his legs wide and I was soon stroking him slowly. Lucille had said his circumcision was on the tight side and from the feel of his shaft, indeed it was. Certainly he was cut tighter than my husband and lube was not going to be a luxury as it was when I jacked off Bert.

He must have been thinking it was lube time as well because he rose up onto his knees, which of course brought his whole groin up out of the water. I followed suit and it occurred to me that we must have looked pretty cute with the clumps of foam stuck to us, thus accentuating our genitals and my breasts. Lucille must have been kind of mesmerised by the sight because Eddie had to remind her to get the lube.

I put out my left hand and she squeezed out a generous dollop into the palm. Using the fingers of my right hand to dab from the pile of lube in my left palm, I slowly lubed his penis, starting with the big bulbous head and then working my way down the shaft. Not wanting to have Lucille feel left out, I asked, “So, what do think Lucille, is that good enough?”

I sort of expected what her answer would be. “Since you’re asking, I better check and there’s really only one way to do that.” And she did check. Running her finger around and all over the head, then up and down the shaft. All this didn’t go without effect on Eddie. Head back, mouth open, taking deep breaths, his gut tensing up, I wondered if he might cum any minute but Lucille stopped in time. “Seems okay, but there’s only one way to tell for sure.”

Predictably, that way to tell was to grasp the shaft firmly and jack him. Again I wondered if he might cum but she stopped in what seemed like just in time and asked Eddie if it felt okay. He managed to gasp out that it was more than okay.

By that time he was so far along that I knew a couple strokes by my hand and he’d be erupting, just what I didn’t want – at least not yet. I surprised Lucille by holding out my hand and asking her for some more lube. She was surprised and after a moments hesitation, squeezed out some more into my hand. Later she told me she thought I wanted to super lube his penis but what I had in mind was something else.

Holding his sack from below with my left hand, I carefully spread the lube all over his scrotum and then below and all the way back to his anus which I teased making little circles all around. It had the effect I was after – he took my breasts in his hands and fondled them. Getting the right reaction from me, he alternately fondled one and squeezed the nipple on the other. Eddie knew what he was doing and that didn’t go without effect on me.

I needed some relief for the tingling down below so I guided the fondling hand down to the needy spot. He knew what he was doing down there too. I let go of his crotch and grabbed his ass cheeks with both hands just before I went off. When I came down off my summit, I bent over to see if I’d made any marks on his ass cheeks. Indeed there were red marks and I apologised.

He immediately accepted my apology. “Nothing to be sorry for. I expected it. But if you really feel bad, it’s something easy to make up for.” With that, he took my hands and guided them to his penis, which by now was showing a drop or two of pre-cum. Now was the time to give him relief.

Cupping his sack with one hand, I held his shaft in the other and teased the head with my thumb. Lucille moved in closer to watch the show that was sure to come. I changed to jacking his shaft slowly with my right hand, still cupping his sack with the left. Letting go of his sack, I switched to twisting with both hands, but Eddie was a little too short for a full two-hander, I had to lay off with the right as the left twisted down over the head. Yes, indeed his was shorter than my husband’s – I can give Bert a full double-hander without taking off a hand.

Somehow I had this need to showoff to Lucille and I was using every hand job trick I knew. In the end though, the surest way to bring about the happy end is to take the shaft in one hand and jack faster and faster. At that point I really wanted to see Eddie squirt and from the look on her face, Lucille did too. But the kinky in me wanted her to come right out and say it so I kept on with my tricks and variations.

Continuing to tease him, I eyed her intently with the naughtiest smile I could manage and she finally obliged. “Finish him Sara! Make him cum! Do it or I will!”

Her command was all I needed. Some fast jerking and I sensed his legs tightening up and quivering, his gasping breath and above all the groans and vocals. A close girlfriend once said that with so many guys who say “Oh God,” she wondered why the churches were empty. The first sticky white rope landed on my breast, another on my belly and the last big one went in the water. After that there was a little dribble.

Lucille’s face was damp with sweat and from the obvious throbbing in her throat, she was pretty wound up. In fact she was so wound up that it was probably all she could do to keep her clothes on and not rub her crotch. Looking back, I think that leaving her clothes on was part of the eroticism for her and Eddie. Be that as it may, it was pretty obvious she wanted to play a more active role. “Sara, please let go so I can milk him down!” Afterwards I was really glad I did let go because she seemed to get a lot of pleasure out of milking out those last few drops.

Having been jacked and milked, he was totally soft but Lucille’s fun wasn’t over. She wiped his penis off carefully and held it in her hand as if for me to admire. It seemed as if she expected something of me but not knowing what, I just gave what I thought was a look of admiration. She decided to show me what she expected and kissed the head, actually not just kissed, it was more like smooching. Was she trying to get him hard so soon?

If she was trying to get him hard, she failed because when she backed off he was still soft. Then I caught on. She was just showing how much she appreciated his penis. When she cradled it in her hand again, I realised what was expected. My smooching with the head didn’t make it hard either but the act of doing it did something for me.

Lucille looked at my body and then in mock surprise exclaimed, “Sara, you’ve got Eddie’s cum all over your titties and belly! Eddie, we can’t have her be all sticky can we?”

She was quick to get him a soapy wash cloth and he washed the front of my body very carefully, even nudging my legs apart so he could wash my crotch - where his cum hadn’t even reached. But of course mine had and it had run down my thighs too but Eddie knew to take care of all that. A guy washing my crotch doesn’t go without effect, in spite of, or maybe helped by, his wife looking on. The two of them may have noticed my arousal but for some reason chose to ignore it.

Lucille took a couple towels out of a convenient shelf and beckoned us out of the tub. There we were, Eddie and I, a naked man and woman, both wet, standing before the man’s wife who was still clothed. The effect on me was to further incite the sensations that I’d gotten from Eddie washing my crotch. I expected she would hand over the towels to us but she hesitated as if trying to decide whom should receive the first towel. But distributing towels to us wasn’t what was on the program. Instead, after handing one to Eddie, she moved around to my side and holding the other one open like a gown, she started drying my back and shoulders. “Special courtesy for our guest. Right Eddie?”

Answering, “Right Lucille,” he proceeded to dry my belly and legs.

Satisfied that my back was dry, Lucille’s drying efforts moved to my front and she carefully dried my arms before moving on to my breasts, which triggered her compliment. “Sara, you have really nice breasts.” She probably never heard the thanks that I uttered between gasping breaths. “Oh Sara, you wouldn’t mind if I touched them, would you?”

Taking my non-answer to mean ‘yes’ and standing to my side, she took my breasts in her hands began massaging them gently. “Beautiful aren’t they Eddie?”

He looked up and uttered agreement before continuing drying my inner thighs, higher and higher. I shifted my feet apart and he immediately towelled through my crotch from my mound to my ass crack and back again. Satisfied that I was well dried, he handed me his towel. “I’m still wet. You girls in the mood for some male body drying?”

Of course we were, particularly Lucille, and I was in no mood to decline. Somehow I ended up being the one who dried his genitals. I must have shown some disappointment that he didn’t get hard because Lucille apologised for him. “My tiger needs more time.” Giggling she completed her apology. “And some expert hands and …..”

No way was I going to let her shock me so I replied by pursing my lips and making a sucking sound.

“Oh you are so right Sara. But you know something, I think you and Eddie got dry skin from all the time in that hot water. But we got just the remedy here.” She produced what appeared to be a recycled pint size peanut butter jar that contained a nearly clear oil. She answered my questioning look with, “It’s olive oil. Best thing in the world for dry skin and healthy as all get out too.”

Without waiting for me to ask to be oiled up, she opened the jar and placed it on the vanity. “Now Sara, best you stand on the towel. Olive oil’s kinda thin and there’s lot’s of drip. She stuck the fingers of both hands in the jar and proceeded to rub oil all over my back. I had to admit it felt pretty good and in fact, I liked it so much I tossed my head back and closed my eyes. It didn’t bother me in the least when I felt Lucille’s hands moving around, first over my flanks and then onto my breasts and belly.

“You really do have beautiful breasts, Sara. And the olive oil makes them shine so. Eddie, look at Sara’s breasts! Like on a Greek goddess.”

“From down here, even more so.” It was then that I noticed that Eddie was on his knees and beginning to oil my legs. As he slowly worked his way up, I had a feeling about where he was heading and I realised I could hardly wait. When he got there, I wondered that he didn’t go into my slit but he quickly explained. “Olive oil is oil and oil doesn’t belong in there.”

Tingling as I was, I sure regretted that he couldn’t go inside. They didn’t give me much time for regrets. After admiring my oiled up naked body some more and lavishing compliments on me, it was Lucille’s rhetorical question that told me what was next. “Sara dear, we can’t let Eddie have a dried out body can we?” When she sat down on the Ottoman, it was pretty clear that when she said ‘we’, she in fact meant me.

Oiling him up alone with Lucille watching was fine with me. Actually it was more than fine, like a chance to be creative. Starting on his shoulders and back, I soon worked my way down over his ass cheeks and then around to his hips and chest. His nipples weren’t as sensitive as some men’s are so I teasingly made several moves towards his happy trail – stopping short of the main body of his pubic hair and all the while feeling his gut tense up with sexual stress. He was still soft but I knew it was only a matter of time and manipulation. Then getting down on my knees, I slicked up his feet and legs. When I got to his upper thighs, he spread his legs - to give me easier access. Here again, I teased - repeatedly coming tantalizingly close to his scrotum and penis.

When his legs got to really trembling, I stuck my hands in the oil jar again and then took his scrotum in one hand and ran the other deep in his crotch - all the way to his rectum. Feeling his nervousness, I sought to calm him. “Don’t worry Eddie, I won’t get any oil inside you.” His penis, now a little less soft twitched.

The look on Lucille’s face told me she was enjoying the show. So far I’d oiled every square inch of Eddie except for his penis. That wasn’t without a purpose and it was plain to see that it wasn’t just Eddie who was tense with anticipation. Lucille had that anticipatory look on her face too. I thought it was time to turn up the heat.

I stuck my fingers back in the jar and worked my hands together with interlocking fingers, holding them so both Eddie and Lucille could see them. Then in a low husky voice, I teased a little more. “Now I bet neither of you can guess what I going to do next.” If they did guess, they didn’t do it aloud. Eddie’s only answer was to move his feet further apart – so I’d have lots of room. I noticed Lucille licking her lips. I coaxed Eddie around so that she’d have a free view of what I was going to do.

Using both hands alternately in a milking-like motion, I massaged his now less soft penis – occasionally stopping and switching to light tweaking and stroking the glans with my thumb and forefinger. To add suspense, I used another trick on his glans – grasping his shaft with four fingers, I kneaded the glans with my thumb, sometimes with my thumb pressing on the end, I’d compress the head.

As soon as I got him standing out hard and throbbing, I stepped back to give Lucille a clear view of my result. She nodded approval and with her comment, essentially said what was expected to follow. “Looks great Sara! And I can see Eddie is really pleased. Too bad we have to wipe off the olive oil that you so skilfully applied to his penis.”

At that point, there really was no longer any doubt that she wanted me to have intercourse with her husband. When I reached around for a towel, she interrupted. “Oh let me do it. You can put on the YES, that is if you need it. Come on, I already got the bed ready.”

And indeed she did have the bed ready. The covers were pulled all the way back and the sheet was covered with a giant beach towel. Lucille offered the superfluous explanation. "No need messing up the sheets."

Although knowing what the two of them wanted, I still gave Lucille a coy questioning look. With a rich smile she nodded, first a yes nod, then a nod in the direction of the bed. I lay down on my back, feet on the bed, knees raised and slightly apart. On his knees next to me, Eddie separated my legs before positioning himself between them. Lucille was watching intently, obviously barely able to wait for what was very soon to follow. Without a word, Eddie moved in close and holding his penis by the base, put the head in my slit and trolled. Gasping for breath, I was conscious of a low sound of pleasure escaping my lips.

Then my opening yielded to his measured thrust and he was partly inside me, then stopping as if unsure asked, “Can we do without the YES?”

Now gasping all the more, I barely got out my affirmative answer. He went in further, slowly and by degrees, as if pausing to allow my vagina to adjust to what he and Lucille perceived to be a monster penis, always asking if everything was okay. It was all I could do to keep from just telling him to ram it in and fuck me hard. Instead I thrust upward and then he was buried in me. My pent up passion took over and I initiated a wild thrusting rhythm, sometimes backing down so far that he would slip out completely. My wanton action was like the signal Eddie needed because he began thrusting with more than equal abandon. There we were, our bodies slamming together in unison – so much in unison that the frictional effect of his penis inside me was lost. Lucille thought to fix that by holding me down by the hips. I screamed with my release, he at nearly the same time, beseeching God for something or other as his cum splattered in my sensitive passages.

It was only then, afterwards as we were lying on the bed and cooling down, that it struck me that Lucille was still wearing her work uniform. When Eddie finally rolled off me, she moved right in with a ready washcloth and towel to clean us up. It also struck me how natural a thing is was for her to wipe both her husband’s genitals and mine – almost like a servant in a sheikh’s harem. When she finished with her clean-up chore, she turned to me and in a perfectly natural tone of voice asked if I could stay for coffee and a brownies.

In no hurry to go home to an empty house, I accepted and Eddie got a couple robes from a closet and helped me on with one before cladding himself. By the time we got to the living room, Lucille was busy in the kitchen making coffee.

Eddie and I sat down on the couch and shortly Lucille had coffee and a dish of brownies on the coffee table. With Eddie in the middle, we sat together on the sofa. What do you talk about after a FFM three-way with a married couple? I opened with a thanks for inviting me to try out their hot tub and a compliment on how nicely they had furnished their apartment. Sound odd? What should I have said? Should I have thanked Lucille for letting me jack off and fuck her husband?

In any case, Lucille pretty quickly steered the conversation in a personal direction. How long had I been married? Any kids? What did Bert do for a living? How’d we happen to move to New Jersey? How did we like living in New Jersey? And so forth.

I posed questions along those lines and about Eddie’s Army career. They answered openly but it became apparent that they, especially Lucille, wanted to get some really personal stuff off her chest. “Sara, I told you before how I had surgery that went south. That’s not the whole story. What actually happened is something I don’t tell too many people.”

That got me pretty darned interested and I did my best at giving a look of sympathy and trustfulness.

“You see, I used to be into tattoos and piercing, well not just into, more like I got addicted – especially piercings. One thing led to another. Nostrils, septum, navel, nipples and then genital. Both Eddie and I were so pleased with the VCH that I started looking towards getting some labia jewelry. About that time, Eddie got transferred to Fort Sill, Oklahoma and I had to go to a piercer I didn’t know. The place looked okay and the operator made a reasonable impression so I went ahead with it.”

My interest perked up because something that had puzzled me for years was why people pay good money to make themselves uglier. In fact, this tattoo and piercing shit always reminds me of those female-circumcising nuts in Africa and parts of the Mideast who insist demolishing perfectly good cunts.

“My guess is that he didn’t work so clean because it all got infected. Some friends – piercing fans – thought maybe Eddie and I had had sex too soon after the piercing. Maybe so. Whatever the cause, I waited too long to see a doctor – probably out of embarrassment. When I finally went to the hospital, they saved my life but in the course of surgeries to fight the infection, my pussy ended up with about the same dysfunctional condition as millions of women who have to endure FGM.”

Upon hearing a story like that, what does one say? I would have liked to ask how she could have ever brought herself to go into a tattoo place, get undressed and let some skuzzy looking low life work on her pussy. But that would have been too cruel. I did my best pulling myself together and expressing sympathy for her sufferings. What else would have been correct? After all, say you go visit a dying cancer patient who’s coughing up blood, you don’t scold them for burning up two packs a day since they were 20 years old.

Not seeing a way to pry more details out of Lucille, I wasn’t sure how to close the conversation and go home. The two of them just looked at me with expectant facial expressions. Maybe they thought I had some juicy past to confess to. Of course I did, but I’d never told anyone aside from my husband and I wasn’t about to start telling anyone else. Maybe they expected me to suggest a return engagement. I’d enjoyed the afternoon immensely but it didn’t compare to any of the afternoons with one of my husband’s young students back in Madison.

Perhaps if I didn’t get something going with his new students? Well I knew where Eddie worked.