This is Jesse's story; these will be her words, her thoughts, her emotions. My sole purpose is to present her story to the reader in a readable manner, in an accurate manner, with no editing by me. She made me promise to do this, as she asked, and I promised. I always keep my promises to Jess.
Those days and weeks after my fling with Ray and Harry, I was feeling a sexuality that I had never experienced before. The sex, between Ray and I was always great, but in those days and weeks after our threesome, the sex was unbelievably fantastic. I truly believe that, as I approached thirty-six years of age, my sex life was only getting better and better.
When I was alone; at work, driving, or at home, I found my mind reliving that evening over and over again, the intensity of my mind-movies, bringing me close to climax a couple of times. Okay, if I'm going to be truthful; one time when I was driving home from work, I helped my mind-movie a little bit and played with myself, and orgasmed at a red light. Looking around me afterwards, the lady in the car to my right, was looking at me curiously, I'm sure wondering why my eyes were closed and my mouth was opened just a few seconds ago. Had my windows been down, she would have heard me stifle a cry of joy when I came.
Ray and I had talked about that evening quite a few times, his main concern that I wasn't having any regrets, that I wasn't upset that it happened, or that I was harboring resentment towards he and Harry because it did happen. Oh no, there were definitely no regrets on my part. I willingly went along with the flow of that evening, and thoroughly enjoyed my first time in multi-partner sex. Oh no, no regrets at all, I told him each and every time the question arose.
And when the opportunity arose for me to have a second threesome, I didn't flinch.
~
One Friday evening, after a terribly long and grueling week at work for the both of us, we showered and headed for 'our pub', Sherrie's place. As in the series, 'Cheers', it's good to go somewhere where everyone knows your name. Such was life at Sherrie's. Fellow patrons, regulars, were friends, some casual and in passing, some on more solid ground. Such was the case with us and Greg.
Greg was thirty-ish, divorced, and a quiet, nice guy, always a gentleman with me and the other female regulars. I knew of nobody who disliked Greg. He would usually join us when we were 'in house' and the three of us would laugh, shoot pool, play darts, and drink, of course, we would drink. Ray never had more than two drinks if he was driving, changing over to club soda and lime after two cocktails. That left me free to let my hair down a bit more than he could, but never out of control. I've never been out of control with liquor. My mother's drunkenness cured me of that.
I didn't start out that evening with the thought of having another threesome, it wasn't like that. A combination of several things collided and, poof, there it was. I've always thought that assignations that just, happened, as if they had their own life, were the best.
But, that evening started out as a night of TGIF, nothing more, nothing else planned. Greg joined us in our booth after we had been there a half-hour or so, and as always, his company was welcomed, and pleasurable, always pleasurable. We ordered a round of drinks, and just talked; we talked about work, we talked about life, we just talked. I had noticed a couple of times, during our gab-fest, that Greg grimaced when he moved around in the booth, and so, finally, I asked if there was anything wrong.
He told us of a really tough day at work-he, being an electrician-pulling heavy cable through large conduit, not household wiring, but really heavy cable for transformers and such. We commiserated with him, genuinely so, and then, Greg and Ray's names were called; they had listed their names, as a team, for one of the pool tables and their turn was up.
I watched from the booth, exchanged pleasantries with other regulars, and did a Tequila shot with Sherrie, our friend and the pub's owner. For whatever reason, only she knows, as she left to go and make the rounds with her customers, she told our waitress to bring me another shot, and off Sherrie went, to tend to her business.
My 'team', Greg and Ray, were still shooting, defeating all challengers. I was used to it; Ray's a good shot, as is Greg, and me? I hold my own, in the women's bracket, pretty damned well. As I continued to watch the latest game unfold, I noticed that Greg was still moving 'gingerly'.
That second Tequila shooter began working its magic on me, and I remember my 'mind-movie' would start and stop in my head, with little or no control by me, and it caused me some discomfort between my legs. A discomfort that I really wanted to get taken care of, but I couldn't do anything about it, to myself, for myself, sitting out in the pub among fifty or so people. I squeezed my legs together, trying to will it to leave me alone, but it didn't.
I was taken out of my futile attempt at mind-control over my body by the guys returning to the table. They gave up the table, willingly, after their last victory, both tired of shooting. The drinks they had ordered as they left the game floor arrived just as they did. Raising my glass of beer to them, I congratulated them both, and they kindly acknowledged me in return. Greg excused himself to go and wash his hands, and drain his bladder, when Ray had returned from his very same mission.
"Feel like heading to the house and hitting the hot tub?" I remember asking Ray when Greg walked off.
Ray bought Ree's half of the house when they divorced. To her credit, she didn't try to rake Ray across the coals during the divorce. To his credit, Ray filed under "irreconcilable differences', and didn't besmirch her reputation, as he could have; but that's not Ray, they remain distantly friendly to this day and I commend both for keeping it civil between them.
But, back to my point; we lived in that same house, completely redecorated in the interior by Ray, before I met him. The deck, hot tub, and outside pretty much remained the same, judging by pictures I had seen. Not answering me at first, I thought he didn't hear me, so I repeated my question.
Kissing me, he said, "I heard you the first time, Jess, I was just trying to make up my mind about something."
I looked at him with a bit of puzzled expression when he added, "When you mentioned the hot tub, I started debating with myself about whether of not we should ask Greg to join us, but I was afraid you might think I was trying to lead you down the same road of a couple of weeks ago, with Harry. But, honestly, I was thinking of Greg's muscle aches, that the hot tub would do him a world of good."
His mention of our night with Harry started my mind-movie again, the warm, tingling in my crotch, returning. Not an unpleasant feeling, mind you.
