Loving Threesome

Well, I've actually done it! Got my new job in Boston, moved from Perth and am now renting a small but luxurious apartment in the city. And you, Steve, don't even know! I've been so careful not to tell you but now you're going to get the shock of your life. I'm going to try to rekindle that wonderful affair we had when you visited Australia last Spring.

I'm sitting in the cafe that you always comes to for lunch wearing dark glasses and a simple sun dress just above my knees. My hair is down, blowing in the breeze, and I'm wearing light makeup and a pale pink lip gloss. I think I look good but my heart is beating anxiously as I wait for you to step through the door.

There you are! You've ordered a sandwich and coffee and are taking a seat across the room. I rise from my seat and go and sit at the same table - just the two of us. You look up in surprise. The cafe is nearly empty - why would a pretty girl not sit at an empty table?

"Hi" I said breezily and you muttered a response absorbed in your newspaper. I made my accent a little more Australian. "I love the springtime, don't you" and this time you looked up with curiosity. Recognition slowly dawned in your face. "Angela, is it really you?" In reply I reached my hand across to touch your face, and caressed your lips with my fingers.

We had a fevered conversation in which I explained that I couldn't bear being apart from you and now had a job in Boston. You were obviously thrilled to see me but I sensed some unease on your part. "Angela, you know that I am married, I can't just leave Sarah for you, much as the idea appeals". "I know that, sweet love, but let's just wait and see what might happen." I answered.

Then began a magical period in which, for the first time, we could be together physically. We met secretly on evenings when you would normally be out on a sports event. I discovered what I had expected - that you are a superb, skillful, and considerate lover. In a few weeks I experienced more physical pleasure than I would ever have thought possible, when you were absent my pussy ached for your manhood, I found myself dressing much more sexily than ever before wanting to fulfill your physical needs in a way that Sarah never does. And in all this time we hardly ever talked about her but I was beginning to be obsessed by the thought of winning you for myself. I knew I must plant the seeds of this thought in your own mind.

So at the end of each of our evening trysts I began walking back to your house with you just to prolong the time we had together. Occasionally we took the bus. It was always dark by this time and we walked hand in hand, stopping occasionally to kiss (and in very dark places I would feel for your cock so that when our walk resumed you had some difficulty). Outside your front gate I would always kiss you passionately. At first you were nervous that Sarah might look out and see us but you gradually threw caution to the winds. Those short occasions outside your house in the dark, kissing you as your seed ran out of my pussy and down my legs, were thrilling to me in a way I can't possibly describe.

My hope was that you would feel all the more strongly the contrast of your feelings for me and your feelings for her.

At times I knew you were wavering in my favour but I wanted to milk the delicious naughty feeling of secrecy and daring for a while longer. I became a little bolder when I heard that Sarah was looking for a gardener to tend your house garden. With some excitement I decided to apply and my meagre credentials landed me a part-time job 5pm-7pm every other day. On my first day Sarah explained the light duties she wanted me to carry out in the garden - they were easy to carry out and did not require that I wore any unflattering clothes.

On the first day I was there you came home from work around 5.45pm and almost fell through the floor to see me working in your garden. But Sarah was there and you had to accede to being introduced to me - what fun that was - you nervous, me shaking your hand with a winning smile - innocent little Angela!

However, the next time we met at my apartment you were angry with me for the very first time. "Angela" you raged "how could you do this? You are playing with fire. What were you thinking of? This is so dangerous." I admit that I was, in turn, angry. I had hoped you would be pleased by my little deception to see more of you. "Steve, how do you think I feel? You come to see me, you fuck me, and then you go home to her." We spat words at each other for a full 10 minutes but then something strange happened. We looked at one another, and suddenly our anger turned to passion. That night we came together violently, roughly, seized by an uncontrollable lust. I took you in my back hole while you pumped your enormous engorged rod deep up inside me. You hurt me but I didn't care; all I wanted was you. Then you rolled me over and thrust into my pussy. Within minutes I was screaming your name, screaming that my cunt belonged to you (yes, I used that word for the first time), and my body bucked in the most incredible climax of my life while you jetted to fill your slut's cunt to overflowing.

Both of us were completely spent and we lay at peace within one another's arms. "I'm sorry, baby" you murmured "I know you only did it because you needed me". And I responded with an honest candor "I'm sorry too, my love. Yes, I should have asked you first. But you know something? It so turns me on to be close to you while Sarah is there. I feel I have this enormous secret power. I am your lover in secret, yet innocent Angela in Sarah's eyes. Isn't that pervy? But I can't help it. I can't help taking risk after risk." And you, you incredible man, you understood!

As it happened you were finding it increasingly difficult to get away to meet me in the evenings so I was not seeing you as much as I had really wanted to at this time. Therefore my gardening deception came at a very welcome juncture. It was difficult to find time to be alone together since Sarah was often in the garden or at the kitchen window so sometimes our contact was limited to smouldering gazes across a flowerbed. But occasionally Sarah invited me to join you both at your evening meal. When that happened I often took dangerous risks - I would sit at the table by your side and run my hand up and down your leg concealed by the tablecloth - how difficult you found it to retain your composure!

As the days went by my regular visits to your house and garden meant that I saw quite a lot of Sarah and - an unintended consequence - I found myself getting to know her quite well. This began to induce some guilt in me. Not enough to make me stop what I was doing (how could I? My pussy ached for you every day) but it was nevertheless an uncomfortable feeling. And on her part I think that Sarah began to like me too. She would tell me things about her life, her childhood, her hopes and dreams and, in a bizarre way, we became close friends.

One day I arrived to find her lying on your garden couch obviously in great discomfort. She had wrenched her back pulling some weeds. As a teenager I had worked one summer for a physiotherapist so I offered to massage the muscles in her back. She accepted gratefully and led me upstairs to the bedroom you and she shared - the room where you and she coupled. I expected to feel some jealously but strangely all I felt was curiosity. Which side of the bed did you sleep on? How often did the two of you make love? Who initiated it? Did she enjoy it?

Sarah lay on the bed and I straddled her so that I could work my fingers into her strained muscles. She had a nice firm body, in good trim, and my massaging soon eased her pain. She was effusively grateful and asked if I would do this on a regular basis. I was quite willing since I had also found it a pleasurable experience. But then she surprised me. "Don't tell Steve" she asked. Naturally I asked why not and she replied "I really enjoyed the feeling of your hands and I don't want Steve to be jealous". I wasn't quite sure what to make of this but I did agree to her request.

So now began a strange period where, to put it bluntly, I was servicing your cock with my pussy and servicing your wife's back with my hands - and neither of you knew the full story. It was the first secret I ever had from you. But I kept my secret because it always gave me a frisson of excitement when I dwelt on the place I now occupied in your marriage.

I was still totally in love with you. On the evenings we had together I would beg for you to fuck me. Not that you needed any encouragement but you would sometimes tease me by entering me just a little way, then withdrawing, then entering a little more, withdrawing again, until I was besides myself with lust.

On the other hand my relationship with Sarah was developing more quickly. After a few massage sessions her back was healed completely but neither of us wanted the sessions to stop. They became occasions for girl on girl chat and we began to share our thoughts and feelings more and more. Looking back on this I believe that both of us were developing not just an intimate friendship but we were also developing physical feelings for one another.

I admit I was fascinated by the dynamic of your marriage. So when Sarah began to talk about life with you I definitely encouraged her. She began to tell me things that she had not dared confess to you. In some ways, Steve, it was a sad story. In her own way she loved you very much but had never managed to open up to you in a deep and profound way. So, while love-making was not unpleasurable, it did not meet her needs to really get close to you.

"It's different with you, Angela" she said "I feel you don't judge me, you accept me for what I am, I can tell you things I dare not tell Steve." I found this declaration deeply moving and couldn't help my natural reaction - I kissed her warmly and softly on the neck. Sarah did not freeze, nor did she rebuff me. Far from it, she gave a moan of pleasure and I could not help but kiss her again. She turned her head and kissed me full on the lips and at that moment I sensed the aroma of a woman's arousal. It was not hers, it was not mine - it was the two of us. We made slow and sweet love on your marital bed which you and I had never done. We explored one another's soft secret places, murmured words of devotion and tenderness. We were entwined for hours and only came the once near the end in a gentle mutual throbbing.

Are you jealous, Steve? You don't need to be. You are the only man I shall ever love and the way that we love each other is totally different from that slow languorous afternoon with Sarah. For myself I feel absolutely no conflict. I love you both with my heart and my body in such different ways and if you could each look into my heart you would both see that neither of you had anything to fear. At that time it seemed that I had it all - a lover in you who always took me to the pinnacle of desire and a lover in Sarah who truly understand what it meant to be Angela the women with all the frailty and strength of womankind.

But of course I did not really have it all because I was holding back a huge secret from the two of you. If only this magical intimacy I had with the two of you could be an intimacy shared equally between the three of us together.

While I wrestled with this dilemma my evening dinners with the two of you were, from my point of view, quite dramatic. I would come into the house, spend some time in your bathroom washing the garden grubbiness away, and then come down to your living room. Sarah would usually be in the kitchen and so you and I would take what opportunities we felt safe to kiss and cuddle. I would always have removed my panties beforehand because I wanted you to have completely free access to my pussy. When your skillful fingers fondled me there you would always find a wet and willing Angela. But we had to be careful! I did not want Sarah to come in suddenly and find us like that.

I would usually tell you that I thought I should give Sarah a hand in the kitchen preparing the meal. You thought I was just playing safe! But in the kitchen out of your sight I would be embracing Sarah. Did you know that your wife has the most beautiful tongue? Our own kissing is passionate and hard but, with Sarah, there is long soft sensuous licking accompanied by quite murmurs in which we communicated to one another that we were the most loving of lovers. And of course, for me, there was always the exciting potential peril of your entering the kitchen unexpectedly.

At the end of these evenings you would both bid me farewell with an innocent hug - both of you quite unaware of the full truth of the evening. Exciting though this double life was I knew it was unsustainable. Something would eventually get discovered and I did not relish this thought.

So I thought and thought. It seemed to me that you and Sarah were a good couple, basically fond of one another, but trapped by neither of you having the courage to broach a greater intimacy. I loved you both and was sad for the state of your marriage - and I realized anew that the current status quo could not lead the two of you to a happier relationship. You were absorbed by me and although I was truly enjoying that aspect of things I wanted better for the two of you. I felt that my presence in your lives was, in the end, not healthy for your marriage.

So, with heavy heart, I prepared for what I expected was to be the last time I saw you both. You had invited me to dinner on New Years Eve. I came with gifts for both of you, in my best black cocktail dress. I had spent a lot of time on my make-up - it gives a girl confidence - but, although I felt I looked my best, I was not dressed as a vamp.

We had a wonderful evening. Conversation sparkled and the two of you seemed very happy to be in my company. Midnight struck and we raised our glasses. There were kisses and hugs between all of us. Then I sounded a more serious note.

I took your hands with tears in my eyes. "Dearest Steve, dearest Sarah, I'm so sorry that this has to be the last time I shall see you." You were both shocked and your faces went ashen. I quickly went on. "For some reason, I have fallen in love with both of you. Each of you know the feelings I have for you although neither of you are aware that I have equally deep feelings for the other of you. I know that both of you also love me deeply but it is tearing me apart maintaining my deception. Please, please, don't think too badly of me, do believe me when I say that I have never loved like this before, do believe me when I say that I want your happiness above everything - and that I believe my being in your lives is not conducive to that happiness."

There was silence. It seemed to last forever although it may only have been a few minutes. You looked at one another and your own tears then flowed freely - and again this seemed to go forever. Then you, my darling Steve, took Sarah's arm, drew her closely to you and held her tightly. And then occurred the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. You both stretched out your hands and drew me into your embrace. The three of us stood there - a tableau of three - nestling closer to one another. We stroked each other's faces, we nuzzled each other's neck, we kissed one another tenderly. I found myself feeling closer to both of you, closer to you as a couple, than at any other time. And with this closeness came arousal - and it came from all of us.

Sarah's and my hands met in searching for your swollen cock. Your hands were under both our skirts finding dripping, lubricious, open pussies. We whispered words of love and loyalty to one another as we gently stoked the fires of desire. We helped each other to undress, we drew one another to the floor, the rug before the open fire. Sarah's eyes were moist, shining, her face was radiant - a woman finding physical contentment in her husband for the first time in many years. Your face was loving, serene, caring although your cock's size bespoke a fierier passion. We made love on that rug all night. I lost count of the number of times I climaxed. You divided your spurting between Sarah and me, each of us enjoying our own turn, and each of us enjoying the delight you were giving to the other.

So, I had been wrong. This was not the end. It was the beginning.