Athy the Cuc Queen

Kathy the Cuck Queen

We slept for most of the flight back to John Wayne.

After our night with Tain and Helena I was really sore. My first big black cock had been some of the most intense, mind-blowing, sex I'd ever experienced but, to be honest, it was a one time thing. My vagina felt like someone had run through it with a belt sander: no sex that day or the next.

We visited a volcano on the 4th- seemed somehow appropriate- spent the evening on our private little beach watching sunset and moonrise, and left on the 5th. It had been quite an adventure.

In early September Michael registered us for a bike ride from Newport Beach to Oceanside and back; it would be along PCH all the way. Riding was his passion so I knew he could do it but 100 miles was more than I could handle.

"I figured that, so we'll turn around in San Clemente," he told me. "You've done fifty before so it'll be a three or four hour ride, tops."

"Should be fun," I replied.

It took us about half an hour to get to Newport Center that Sunday and another few to find parking. It was chaos. Hundreds of bikes and even more people. People on bikes. People unloading bikes. People with megaphones telling people on bikes where to go. There were dozens of teams, people with matching jerseys. Fat people, fit people. It was crazy. We unloaded our bikes and joined the chaos.

"Kathy," said a voice from behind me, "Kathy?..."

I turned around. Coming toward me was a man, his face familiar but not remembered. Gray barely trimmed beard and sideburns, and peppered in his otherwise coal black hair. Central casting good looks: cyclists legs, lean in the waist and chest, muscles without the bulk. I would have remembered fucking a hunk like him. From where or when did I know him?

"I thought I recognized those gorgeous locks." He saw the puzzlement on my face. "Jeff, Jeff Thorensen. We met at my cousin Dolores' wedding."

Of course! She and I hung out together after classes and became close friends but, once she tied the knot, we kind of lost touch with each other. "Oh my god! How are you?" We shook hands and hugged which was a little awkward, He'd hit on me then- at least I took it as a hit. Something more than an innocent flirtation. He'd said I had the face of Claire Danes, the body of Charlize Theron, and hair like no one he'd ever seen, Kind of forward with the 'body like', at least I thought, but it was a nice complement. He turned out to be easy to talk with so we were together for the cake, champagne, dancing and all the other kabuki rituals that go into a big, big Catholic wedding.

"So how is Dolores? We sorta lost touch after she got married."

"Yeah, she moved up north. Has twins, three year olds now, and another on the way," he replied, His smile was engaging. "And you?"

Michael came up behind me, his arm around my waist. It was a timely interruption: I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer that question, or if I should. "Jeff," I deflected, "this is my husband, Michael."

"Mike for short," he said as they shook hands. "She's the only one who calls me Michael. You riding with a group, or solo?"

"Solo today, and only doing the 50 miler this time."

"Great! So you want to ride with us?" he asked, "we're gonna take it kinda slow."

"Sounds good to me," he replied, "I'm not in any hurry today." The talk between them turned to bikes and rides, longest, toughest, close calls and crashes.

"Oh shit!" Michael exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot the Go Pro, gotta go get it..."

"... like, what's to Go Pro?" I laughed as I reached into my pack and pulled it out, "storefronts and surf shops along PCH? And the stretch from Corona Del Mar into Laguna? B O R I N G." If he decided to shoot along the way, it wouldn't be anything like his epic videos from the mountain trails in Moab or San Diego, or even in the hills behind us. This was a relaxing leisurely low skill low stress fun ride. It was supposed to be, anyhow. Like the ride, a video would be boring, like a home movie your grandparents made about the Easter egg hunt your parents had when they were three.

"... probably right," he said upon reflection, "but keep it handy. Who knows, we might find something exciting."

Our small talk ended as the peloton funneled its way down Jamboree and threaded onto the Pacific Coast Highway. We donned our helmets, joined the mass, and started pedaling. As expected, it was relaxing, relatively easy... and boring.

The three of us had a lot of time to talk, but only in short bursts. For the most part, everyone rode in single file, pairing up on occasion, but never three abreast: PCH is a busy route. Because of the road noise, no one could hear what the other two were discussing. There could be secrets. There could be undiscovered exposures.

"So how long have you two been married?" he asked as he pulled along side.

"We got married in '16. July. Fresh outta college."

"No kids?"

There was that question again. "No."

He paused for a moment, letting the bike coast."We got married in July, too," he finally replied, "Robert, my late husband, and I. Just a few days after it became legal here. In '13."

He was gay. Such a gorgeous looking man with the rugged cut and laughing dark eyes of a Jeffrey Dean Morgan... "I'm sorry to hear that, Jeff."

"Last year, a brain tumor. The last several months were pure hell. We rode this tour two years ago. He was too sick to make it last year. I didn't ride it. He died almost exactly a year ago. I'm riding it for him."

He was gay and on the rebound.

"I can't have kids," I finally confessed. "I had a younger sister who died when she was about three. Some genetic thing, so I had a test. I have the gene. Eight percent chance that my children would... well, when I was fourteen I had my tubes tied."

He looked at me with real compassion. His eyes spoke in shades of empathy. "That had to be a crushing blow for you."

"It was." I wondered as we pedaled if I should expose the little secret of our married life. "But there were benefits: all the sex I wanted without using a condom..."

He let out a hardy laugh. "That is one helluva silver lining, isn't it."

OK, here it comes. "When I met Michael and his best friend, it allowed for a..." how was I going to put this without being crass or vulgar,"... well, the three of us operate on the fringes of the sexuality spectrum."

There was a really long pause. I thought he might pull ahead with Michael or fall behind; I'd then pull up and start a conversation with Michael. But he stayed next to me.

He finally smiled, deadpan. "He really has a cute ass."

I laughed. "Yes he does!" Let's see where this goes, I thought, smiling wickedly.

Jeff pulled up next to Michael, they shared a few words, then Michael slowed down to my pace. "He says he lives just off of PCH, near the cove, and invited us to lunch. Says he'll take us back to Newport Center if we don't feel like riding it."

"Sounds good to me," I replied.

We turned off PCH a few miles from Newport Center, wound our way through some narrow residential streets dotted with Beemers and Mercedes parked in the driveways, and finally arrived at a small adobe red 2-story 1940's craftsman style with a picture window view of the Pacific across the street.

Michael and I followed him into the living room. We set our helmets and backpacks on the floor and, following his lead, removed our shoes.

The walls were light gray with white woodwork trim, furniture mid-century modern. The art was contemporary, a few pieces mildly erotic, the centerpiece being a full body nude photograph of two men on white sheets passionately embraced. It was done in black and white with dark, sensual shadows etching the curves of the sheets and bodies.

"A close friend took that. It's Robert... was Robert... and I taken a few months before he passed away," he said somberly, then just as quickly asked, "Do you want to have some lunch first? Or clean up a little?"

It was an odd question: we had nothing with us in which to change. Our jerseys were sweaty, as were we; my hair was a matted mess. "I'd like to freshen up but it would take more than a sink..."

He smiled a lecherous smile and looked at me. "You can take a shower," he replied, nodding his head toward the bedroom and bath, "and, if you're kinda modest, I have some robes. And your jerseys can go in the wash; they should be done by the time we are."

Michael and I looked at each other, then at Jeff: we were all on the same wavelength. At least I think we were. I didn't know if Michael knew Jeff was gay when they talked about lunch. With that photo on the wall, he certainly knew now. I wondered if Michael would be experimental enough to have sex with a man. Was he, or had he ever been, bi-curious? And if it happened, how would I feel about watching him have sex with a man. I had obviously seen him with women- it always turned me on to watch them fuck- but this might be a little out of my comfort zone. Jeff had said he was always the 'top' so what would I be thinking as I watched a man's cock slide into Michael's mouth or penetrate his cute ass. Would it change him, or me, or us? But whatever was going to happen was happening now. I pulled off my jersey. "Anyone want to join me?"

It was fun when we started: laughing, playful, a lot of goofing around. It was a large walk-in shower, quite large considering the age of the house. The mood changed over time. Michael soaped up a washcloth and rubbed it slowly down my back. His hand slid between my ass cheeks up to my wet pussy. I was surprised when Jeff kissed me as he soaped my breasts and I stroked each of their erect cocks. He's bi. This could be very interesting.

Michael got down on his knees. Hot water flowed down his back as he ate my pussy. I wrapped my arms around Jeff's neck, his arms around my waist. He rubbed his erection along the inside of my thigh. It was touching Michael's face, his nose, his lips.

"Take it in your mouth, Mike," he urged, "please suck it Michael, suck my cock."

He took it in his hand, stroking it, rubbing it along my swollen labia, teasing my clitoris, perching it at the entrance to my vagina. My lust wanted it inside me- I was so tempted to take it- but I wanted to watch my husband suck another man's cock. I Turned away.

Jeff turned to face him. Michael stroked him as he put the head to his lips, like a kiss. He licked a drop of precum with the tip of his tongue. Jeff put his hands at the back of Michael's head and slowly guided his swollen flesh into Michael's open mouth. As if by instinct, or maybe out of having his cock in my mouth several times a week, his head bobbed back and forth along Jeff's hard cock.

Jeff closed his eyes. He was in ecstasy. "Jeez Michael," he groaned in pleasure, "You don't know how good that feels." It was like he had entered nirvana.

I fingered myself and came instantly. I had never seen anything so erotic, so hot.

I got out of the shower, having been forgotten in the eroticism going on between the two men, went to my backpack, and got out the Go Pro.

Michael still had Jeff in his mouth when I returned. Jeff, hands soapy, was leaned over running his fingers down Michael's back.

"Stand up and turn around, baby." Jeff lathered soap onto his shaft and rubbed the slicked cock head between Michael's ass cheeks, pausing briefly with each stroke at the puckered anus. A finger, then a second, then a third, disappeared into the opening. He pulled them out after a few minutes. "You need to do something first, baby. Under the sink are a few enema bottles," he said with a hint of sardonic humor, "otherwise it will be quite messy." He went to the sink and washed his hands briskly with soap and water.

I thought to myself. he's calling him 'baby' like one lover to another, The words came back to me: on the rebound.

Michael laughed. "I'll be out in a few minutes" he replied, "so see if she needs anything." I smiled and was mildly shocked. He had just given permission for me to fuck Jeff without him watching.

I was on my back. Jeff was still hard as a brick as he walked back to the bed. I spread my legs. "How do you want it, baby?:

"That'll be just fine," he chuckled, "you're gonna kinda keep me fluffed until..." he pulled me to the foot of the bed, my legs dangling off the edge, "...I can do this... " I could feel the pressure of his cock head penetrating me, the shaft moving up my pussy, the slow reciprocation back and forth. "... to him."

"He's never had sex with a guy before." The pleasure of his slow fucking made it hard to talk. "Faster, fuck me a little faster."

"No," he said, "and I'll be gentle with him."

"You know your cock is making me crazy, like..." a mini-orgasm swept through me, "... there's this spring..." then another, "... and it wants to break loose," then another. "... but it needs to be wound tighter." My hips gyrated, I squirmed trying to make his cock move faster, but his stroke was purposely slow. I started to moan. I started to cry with pleasure, mewl with desire, pant with lust.

"You know you're unforgettable," he whispered, "I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd ever see you again, let alone have you naked in my bed, my cock deep in your pussy, and your husband waiting in line just to lose his sweet virgin ass to the cock that's fucking his gorgeous wife." He continued slowly stroking in and out of me. I wasn't listening to anything but the buzzing in my brain that was driving me insane.

I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him to me. "Bite my nipples. Suck my tits. Kiss me hard. Oh baby, I'm gonna cum on your cock." He did, and I did.

I guess I'd done a good job of keeping him fluffed because he was still rock hard when Michael came out of the bathroom. He kissed me, then Jeff.

Jeff pulled away from me, walked over to a nightstand and removed a bottle of silicone lube from the top drawer. Michael had gone to the other side and sat propped up on a pillow watching Jeff intently, as a bird watches a cat pacing below its cage. Like Jeff, his cock was iron hard. Jeff crawled over the bed on his knees, mounting himself between Michael's lewdly spread legs. I picked up the Go Pro and turned it on.

Jeff dribbled a stream of lube onto his cock, stroked himself slick, then dribbled a few drops onto his middle finger. He teased the puckered flesh with it, coating the hole while inserted the finger up to the first knuckle.

Michael winced. His abs twitched. "Did that hurt?"

"God not at all," Michael cooed. His voice sounded thick, smokey. His eyelids were partly closed. "It feels better than it did in the shower." The finger went up to the second knuckle and started moving it in and out. Michael started to move in sync with the strokes. Jeff streamed more lube onto his fingers, slipping the second and third into the widening hole. He bent over and bit one nipple, then the other, Almost like a woman's, they stiffened. They kissed, tongues dueling. Jeff hoisted Michael's legs over his shoulders and poised the flaming red head of his cock at the edge of the expanded hole and gently pushed. The head slid in with no effort and the shaft inched its way in.

Michael's hips shot up. He pulled at Jeff's ass with both hands to pull him closer. A long "fuuuuuuuuck," he groaned as the veiny flesh disappeared inside his cute ass. "Oh fuck... oh god... jeez..." gasp "...deeper deeper shit it's on..." long moan "... you're hitting it..." cry of pleasure "... oh god what have I been missing all these years..." a series of yelps "... Jeff, faster faster I wanna cum." Jeff slapped his ass, leaving a red welt on the white skin. Again, on the other cheek, then again and again, but the tempo of his stroke never changed.

I laughed. "No mercy, none at all. He's ruthless."

"Jesus Kathy," he said, struggling with his thoughts and speech, "why didn't you tell me a dick feels so fuckin' good inside you?"

"It's a woman's secret, love."

It was a long time before Jeff stepped up the tempo. "OK baby, I'm about to fill you with my cum." Fred's thighs slapped against Michael's. Jeff moaned deeply, his abs tightened, and he thrust hard into Michael. Thick white semen squeezed between the hole and thick flesh. It dripped in lazy rivulets onto the sheets. Michael's load shot up to his nipples and abdomen, finally creating a little creamy pond in his navel. They kissed as Fred's erection became flaccid. More cum dripped out as it finally fell out of his ass.

That was the beginning of a long night. We fucked in every possible combination until well after midnight. Me sucking Jeff while Michael fucked me. A DP that was incredible, although I did have to do the ritual first. Mike went down on Jeff and swallowed his cum while I was in the bathroom. I didn't know a guy in his 50's could have such stamina. We did everything that night, then slept until almost noon. At some point Jeff hung our clothes; they were dry by the time we were done.

We spent weekends at each others house several times over that fall and winter but by spring things got, well, confused, complicated, messy. I always knew Steve understood his place in our very complex relationship. Jeff didn't, or at least he couldn't figure it out. He asked Michael to move in with him. Michael said no. Like I said: on the rebound.