I guess it started when my wife's best friend, Cyndy, was getting divorced after over 17 years of what had been a semi-rocky marriage. We'd been close with both of them for years and the details as they came out were distressing. Both sides were complaining about their sex life, or lack thereof. You can figure out which was which! We remained on good terms with both Cyn and Walt, even if it required some fancy footwork in a town as small as ours.
One Friday night Marie, my wife, Cyn and I were at Ace's relaxing and shooting pool. Between games Cyn was explaining, in increasing detail as more beer was consumed, why Walt and she hadn't been a happy couple in the bedroom for a while. Chief among these was his lack of concern over whether she got off or not. I'm not the perfect lover and certainly not a counselor but that seemed like a fair to good reason for spitting up.
"Dammit, Marie, why did you find a good one (me?) and I got stuck with one who only wants to fuck and then watch the ball game on TV. I've maybe had one good orgasm a month for years now. And you're always telling me that you two can't keep your hand and tongue's off of each other."
Sounded like Marie had been sharing details about our sex life with Cyn. Not that I mind. We do have trouble keeping our hands and tongues off each other. To be fair Marie and I had been together for only six or so years but it was good to know she was happy enough with it, and me, to brag about it.
"Why don't you think about getting some help or even a separation? Maybe some time apart will help?" Was Marie's suggestion.
"He won't even consider those options" Cyn spat out "He said if I wasn't so uninterested he'd be more concerned about my needs."
"Sounds like most men, you know I've been there, too."
"Hey, we're not all useless are we?" was my attempt to stand up for the male race.
Beers continued to flow and more details emerged. Seemed Marie had once told Cyn that she was done with men and would just keep fresh batteries in her vibrator and ride her big vibrator (motorcycle) unless she could find a man who rode a pretty motorcycle and liked to lick pussy as much as he liked to fuck. Guess I fit the bill, with a two-tone Harley bagger and an extreme interest in making sure any woman I was with came as many times as she wanted. I seriously like to go down on women and love the taste, feel and everything about cunnilingus. I'm pretty sure Marie stays satisfied no matter what it takes!
"Yeah, but I remember what you told me about batteries and what you were looking for. I'm stocking up on batteries but some real action would be nice, too!" Cyndy replied with an evil grin.
"So what's the problem" asked Marie "Just pick a likely victim and ride him like a borrowed mule. You'll feel better and still have a back-up plan in the drawer."
"Hey, ladies, I'm still sitting here! I had no idea this was a topic coming up tonight."
"And this is too small a town for that, I don't need to get a reputation like that. Besides look what you found" Cyn pointed at me "Wayne's good looking nice and from what you say he licks pussy like a kitten with a bowl of milk."
Obviously Marie and Cyndy had been talking things over. I blushed and put on my best 'aw shucks' look while they both laughed at my discomfort. I really do like licking pussy and have been told I'm pretty good at it. We were about four beers into the night and my mind wondered where this was headed. Our conversations were often risque but had never gone anywhere. I decided to up the ante with my next remark.
"You'll have to judge for yourself, sometime. I just try to do my best."
Cyndy gave Marie a sly look and I wondered how detailed their sharing of information had been. Putting the matter out of my mind we drank more beer, played a little pool and even danced a bit. During one buckle polishing slow dance with Cyn I almost felt molested, she kept her c-cup sized tits pressed into my chest and ground her crotch against the front of my Levi's. I enjoyed it (or maybe it was the beer) and I'm sure she could feel my cock rising from the action. She grazed her lips across my ear and whispered into it.
"Hey cowboy is that a six shooter or are you just glad to see me?"
"Both but better ask the owner before you pull the trigger on it."
Closing time rolled around and we made our way out to the parking lot. Marie and Cyn were trailing behind me after a last stop to relieve the beer pressure before a bouncy ride home in the country. I hopped in to drive but Marie pushed me into the middle of the front seat trapping between the two of them. We were all a little buzzed so Cyndy's hand on my thigh didn't shock me at first, but her hand rose steadily farther and farther as we drove into the night.
"You were right, Marie, he's about half hard and we're just barely out of town."
