I had my share of ass by the time that I was in graduate school in business. At that point I was interested in finding the right woman to marry and have kids with. I was 25 and only about a semester away from getting my MBA. I wasn’t having any luck finding the right woman. I had found the perfect sex partner – who I also got along with extremely well – but she was marriage and child averse.
Josie was by far the best fuck that I had ever had; not just once in a while, but every single time. Sex with her was mind-blowing. In the two years that we had known each other, although we were not exclusive we had toe curling sex at least twice a week when we were in the same city, and oftentimes four or five times. We even went on two fuck fests masquerading as vacations together.
What made Josie the best were three things. She was the most passionate person (in everything, not just sex) that I had ever met; she loved body contact and experimentation; and her pussy and my dick were virtually molded for one another. While I’m about six feet tall, 170 pounds, I don’t have the biggest dick – probably an inch smaller than what I have heard is average for an adult American male, and slightly less than average diameter. Josie, who is about 5 ft. 2 inches and 110 pounds, has a small pussy, even for her size.
Josie and I are both extremely flexible. We both were gymnasts when we were younger, and when I outgrew that I took up diving and was good enough in high school to get a partial diving scholarship in college. Josie took up surfing when she phased out gymnastics. Our flexibility, combined with our exceptionally high libidos, make it so that we consistently have multiple intense orgasms when we get together for “workouts,” as Josie likes to call them.
I tried for a good fourteen months to figure out a way to get Josie to change her attitude about exclusive relationships and kids, but to absolutely no avail. For whatever reasons – which she never volunteered – she was resolute. “Hey Blake – I have no problem with fucking you the rest of your life; you’re my best ever. However, I’ll never agree to be exclusive and I’ll never have kids with anyone. If those are requirements for you, you’re in for major league disappointment.”
It was about the time that I had resigned myself to the fact that I would have to forget about Josie as a marriage partner, but simply continue to enjoy sex with her while looking for “Miss Right,” when a friend of mine solicited my help. Jack was getting his PhD in Psychology at the same university where I was getting my MBA. He talked me into being a participant in a study on male-female relationships that he was a co-author of. “Look, Blake, you have nothing to lose by participating. While it will take about two-three hours you’ll be paid $75 and your forms and interviews will remain anonymous. Plus you can fill out the forms and be interviewed whenever it is convenient for you – so just give up one Friday night party and you’ll help yourself and get some spending money.”
“You’re a good salesman, Jack,” I laughed. “OK; maybe this Friday night I’ll take you up on it.” This got a big smile from Jack as he handed me a paper with the relevant information on “where,” “how,” and “why” on it.
The test was peculiar. It had many questions that I had never even thought about, let alone had quick answers to, about virtually every aspect of male-female relationships. One question asked me to list in order twenty named characteristics that I was looking for in a marriage partner; another asked me the best quality about every girl/woman I had ever gone on more than one date with since I was eighteen; others were “what would you do” problems which gave various scenarios and had decision trees based upon the answers.
By the time I finished the written test I was mentally drained, however I was strongly encouraged to do the interview right afterward. During the interview electrodes were hooked up to various parts of my body, and wires were connected to two different machines which I was told were lie and stress detectors [I have no idea if that was true]. Then I was interviewed by a middle aged woman with enormous knockers that were barely contained by her top, a gay guy, someone who appeared to be a gum-chewing teenage girl (she might just have looked young for her age), a large male athlete with a booming voice, and a naked average looking (except that she had the hairiest bush that I had ever seen) twenty-something woman.
I had no clue why different interviewers were used, or why some of them asked me basically the same questions, or why the last one was naked. I’m sure that some of my answers were peculiar, and I was completely exhausted after the interview ended – however apparently not exhausted enough that I didn’t check out the ass of the last interviewer, which was by far her best feature, as she sashayed out the door.
Josie wanted to get together that night, but I told her I was totally beat. “Hey, dude, we don’t have to fuck every time. Let me bring in a takeout dinner and we can watch some mindless TV, OK?”
“That would be great, Josie – you’re better than I deserve.”
She did bring dinner over. I told her about the written testing and inexplicable interview during dinner, and I thought she was going to have a coronary she laughed so hard. Actually, her good mood caused me to rally and we did end up fucking. Despite my fatigue it was a classic Josie top-notch fuck!
About three weeks after my test and interview, Jack excitedly pulled me aside in the Student Union. “Dude – I just have to ask you something. I hope that you’re not pissed but I was able to identify your test, and have some truly far out news.”
“Why would I be pissed? Take a chill pill and tell me what’s up,” I laughingly responded.
“There is a female test taker that had responses so near to yours that it was totally freaky. I know that you and Josie are never going to get married, and that you’re anxious for a long term relationship and kids, so I thought – with your permission – that I’d track her down and see if she is interested in meeting you.”
“Is there anything you can tell me about her?”
“Sorry – I can’t – privacy rules require confidentiality without two-party consent. All I can say is that I know her to be good looking and she’s your age.”
I pondered the situation for all of about half of a second. “Sure; if she’d like to meet I’d love to meet her!”
Jack smiled broadly. “I lied a little – I already talked to her and she’s willing to meet. How about Friday at 7:00 p. m. at Ruby’s Bar and Grill?”
I chuckled. “Sure – what does she look like?”
“She’ll be wearing a red dress, is blond, and is 5 feet 10 inches tall; you’re to wear a blue shirt and jeans.”
“I am, huh,” I chuckled even louder. “OK yenta, I’ll see her then.”
“Hey dude, get your Yiddish right – a ‘yenta’ is a busy-bodied old woman; a male matchmaker is a ‘shadchan,'” Jack snickered.
“You must have done this before,” I snickered back, and then waved as we parted.
Almost exactly at seven o’clock on Friday night a vision of loveliness sauntered into Ruby’s Bar and Grill wearing a red dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her blond hair was shiny and shoulder length, and she had a habit of flipping it over to the side as in her three inch heed she had to be over six feet tall as she obviously was turning her head looking for me. I approached her with a margarita in hand (Jack violated a confidence by telling me her favorite drink, but I knew that she wouldn’t mind). “Hi; I’m Blake – blue shirt and jeans, same height as you with your three inch heels and my one inch heels on; I hope that I’m who you’re looking for.”
Her smile lit up the room. “Hi; I’m Amanda,” she replied, taking the margarita from my right hand with her left, and then shaking my right hand with hers. “You look just like I pictured you.”
“Not too much of a disappointment, then?” I chuckled.
“No – and how about you? Do I look like you pictured?” she smiled.
“Hell no! You’re about three times as good looking as I pictured you, and even better looking than what I thought was possible!” I replied.
“Bullshitter,” she laughed, “but a good start anyway; better than calling me a ‘dog.'”
That Friday night was about the most socially interesting one of my life up to that point. By midnight I felt that I had known her for years, and I found out that Jack wasn’t shitting me about how our ideas about many subjects were in sync. Her personality was so charming that I almost overlooked how beautiful she was – almost. She had probably the prettiest face and nicest smile of any woman I had seen live in my life, a big rack, a curvaceous body, and sexy mannerisms.
Amanda too was getting an MBA, from a college only twenty miles from the one I attended (and which was part of the psychology test that Jack was spearheading), and she lived halfway between there and Ruby’s. In fact, we lived only about two miles apart.
When we left Ruby’s at eleven we went dancing at a local club – I drove her there since she had taken Uber to Ruby’s – and I discovered yet another fascinating thing about her – she was a great dancer. By 2 a.m. we were both wiped out and dripping with sweat, and we both had things to do the next morning and couldn’t sleep in until noon, so I took her home.
“I really like you Blake,” she said staring intensely into my eyes as we sat in my car in front of the apartment building she lived in. “I’ve honestly never felt closer to someone in a short period of time in my life.”
I got a big shit-eating grin. “I sure would love to try a relationship with you,” I announced; “let’s exchange cellphone numbers and we can talk!”
We each handed the other our cellphone and entered our contact information, then I opened the passenger side door for her and we exchanged one of the most passionate kisses of my life, more passionate than any I had had except with Josie. I waited until I saw her get into her apartment and then called her cellphone.
“Hello…” she apprehensively answered.
“You’re a goddess – when can I call you later today?” I responded.
“You’re bad,” she laughed. “Any time after I get six hours of sleep,” and then we both cut off the call.
After that some things proceeded at lightning speed – others slowly.
What proceeded with lightning speed was intense attachment – either mutual love or bordering on it, I couldn’t tell which in her case, but probably the former in my case. We seemed compatible in every way and were physically attracted to each other.
What proceeded slowly was sex. While we were physically demonstrative, holding, cuddling, and kissing most of the time that we were together, we hadn’t had sex after six weeks of being with each other at least three times a week – a glacial period of time in modern male-female relationships. I wasn’t sure why – I was a little reticent, and I sensed that in her too. My reticence was due to the fact that since Amanda and I never even had a conversation about being exclusive, and since Josie was always hot-to-trot and my feelings and lust for her had not diminished in any way so that I was well satisfied by her in the fucking and sucking department, I didn’t see the need. Once we had “the talk” I would in all likelihood be giving Josie up, something hard to fathom at that point.
At the six week point, the time seemed right to take it to the next level. I gave Amanda enough hints – and she gave some right back to me – that now was the time that we didn’t need to be blunt about it. We went out for a quick meal, took an arm-in-arm leisurely walk around a small lake near my apartment, and then went into my bedroom. I slowly undressed her as romantic music emanated from my Bose; she was truly lovely. She had big firm tits with hard nipples, a sleek torso, a naturally sparse bush, and a prominent clit. She then slowly undressed me. If I didn’t know how normally kind and polite she was, I probably would not have recognized a small look of disappointment when my cock sprung out – but it was only on her face for a fraction of a second.
We stood kissing and stroking each other for a long while – then I gently laid her on my bed and went after her pussy with my lips, tongue, fingers, and even nose. Once I got up close and personal I’m sure that I would have had a slight look of disappointment too because her pussy was big, loose, and sloppy. That didn’t stop me from giving her two obvious orgasms from my finger and mouth play by touching, pinching, licking, or probing every part of her outsized sex organ. However, when I penetrated her with my rock hard cock I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to do the job unless I improvised; so I did.
Instead of fucking her missionary with normal movements, I pushed her thighs together so that her pussy was tighter, then I shinnied up on her so that during reciprocation of my cock it was in contact with her prominent clit a good portion of the time. I tried my best to manipulate or suck her tits while I pounded away, something that I found very enjoyable, and we reached a crescendo together.
I relatively quickly withdrew after my condom-less cock had deposited my load in her pussy, and we snuggled and ferociously kissed and ran our hands over each other’s bodies for a long time. We finally stopped smooching and pawing and just stared into each other’s eyes.
“I love you, Blake,” she whispered.
“I love you, Amanda,” I whispered back.
My mind was now ready for round two – however, she didn’t indicate any desire to suck my cock hard, something that Josie always did after a first fuck. I turned Amanda on her hands and knees and as I was stroking her slack pussy with one hand I hardened myself with the other. Once she was cooing and I was hard again, I penetrated her and started pumping while stroking her clit with one hand and pinching a nipple with the other. Hard pumping in this position was difficult, but if I removed my hand from her clit it was apparent that she was not enjoying the action as much as she wanted to, so I did my best. I brought her to orgasm with my hands on her clit and tit shortly before my second load was deposited in her cunt.
When we separated we again exchanged kisses, hugs, and “I love yous,” and then fell asleep in each other’s arms.
We woke up at about 7 a. m. smiling. We showered together, washed off each other’s entire bodies, went out for breakfast, and arranged to meet that evening for dancing with some friends.
After a half-dozen nights together, spaced over about two weeks, all of which were much as I described above, several things were clear about our sexual encounters:
–We were actually in love with each other. Our exchanges had been highly mutually satisfying emotionally.
–Our private parts were not physically all that compatible (an understatement) since she had a big sloppy pussy and I had a smaller than average cock.
–While our libidos seemed to match OK, the physical intensity of our orgasms was mediocre.
–Our interests in experimentation, sucking, and other physical attributes of sex were quite distinct (as in I loved to experiment, have my dick sucked after fucking, and probing with toys whereas Amanda was clearly not interested in any of those activities).
In summary, on the physically satisfying scale, with Josie as a ten and someone who just lays there and barely has a reaction when she orgasms (such as my third date when I was an undergraduate – who I fucked on three separate occasions only because she looked good and it gave me status with my fraternity brothers) a one, physical satisfaction with Amanda was a five or six. Good, but not great by any means.
While our emotional relationship was proceeding gangbusters – we thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company in everything that we did, and Amanda was anxious to both have a career and crank out three or four kids – I was reticent about making a commitment to exclusivity, and eventually marriage, because of the pedestrian physical aspects of sex with Amanda. While we didn’t candidly talk about it, I could sense a similar reticence on Amanda’s part.
It was getting close to graduate school graduation time for both of us; we had to come to some resolution soon in order to make plans for the future, since we both had job offers from probably six different cities. It took an unusual set of circumstances for the 800 pound gorilla issue to be addressed.
Two weeks before graduation we went to a party at the house of a young married couple that we both knew – they were our only mutual friends who had a house. Neither Amanda nor I usually drank alcohol much, and we got the punch with grain alcohol mixed up with the one with only a hint of rum. It wasn’t long before we were both drunk, although not aware enough of how acute our condition was. The hostess, Barbara, was a perky uber-friendly woman who seemed to like attending weddings, and she was so small that the relatively minor amount of liquor that she had consumed had also seriously impacted the filter between her mind and mouth. With slurs, burps, and malapropisms removed the conversation went something like this:
Barbara: “So when are you two getting married? I can tell that you’re in love.”
Amanda: “Yes we are in love, Barbara, in fact intensely in love.”
Me: “She’s my dream woman in so many ways.”
Amanda: “There’s one small hang up however, giggle, giggle.”
Barbara: “What? Giggle, giggle.”
Amanda: “I don’t want Blake to hear, cackle, cackle.”
Barbara: “Whisper it to me, teehee, teehee.”
Amanda in an easily overheard stage whisper: “There’s another guy that I’m fucking who I don’t really like but who provides me with much more intense orgasms, who I don’t want to give up and I would never cheat if Blake and I are married, snicker, snicker.”
Barbara, in an equally easily overheard stage whisper: “No shit – does he have a big cock? Chortle, chortle.”
Amanda in an even more easily overheard stage whisper: “Fuck yeah, really big, guffaw, guffaw.”
Me, loudly, at first angry, and then smiling: “Shit, you never told me that – course then again I never told you about my piece on the side either.”
Amanda: “Did you hear me, Blake? You weren’t supposed to be listening, giggle, giggle.”
Me: “I could have heard you twenty feet away, snicker, snicker.”
Amanda, with her hands on her hips (actually close to it since she wasn’t cognizant enough to get them exactly there) and a stern expression, and without any “giggle, giggle”: “What’s this about some slut on the side.”
Me: “She has a tight pussy and likes to suck my cock; I would have asked you to marry me already except I don’t want to give her up, and certainly would never cheat if we got hitched.”
Barbara was now leaning in closely, ears as alert as a jack rabbit’s in coyote territory. We both saw her interest, causing us to almost simultaneously stand. We grabbed each other’s hand, and said “Let’s talk privately,” and moved away.
“Damn, damn,” a clearly drunk and frustrated Barbara grunted as we walked away.
We had as intelligent and frank a talk as two slovenly drunks could have. Almost every sentence either of us uttered was followed by “I love you,” but there was no doubt that neither of us was satisfied with the physical aspects of our relationship. After our talk, we got a ride to my apartment, and slept it off in my bed, fully clothed.
Both Amanda and I were chagrined when we woke up the next day. Whether fortunately, or unfortunately, we both remembered the essence of our conversations the night before. We ignored it by making breakfast together, small talk, and a giggly but no-sex shower together. Then I was as blunt as I had ever been in my life when sober.
“Amanda, I truly love you – I am complete only when you’re around. I want to get married, but we both obviously need help in dealing with our physical middling encounters. I don’t have a ready solution, but I want to try and find one.”
Amanda gazed at me with maybe the most loving look I’d ever seen from anyone, except maybe my mother when I was five years old. “I want to marry you too, Blake; let’s think about it, and see if we can find a solution. I really, really want to find one.”
A tear formed in one of her eyes – probably one in mine too – as we passionately kissed and then separately went about our day’s activities.
My first thought about how to deal with our situation was to ask Jack for help – of course without revealing the details to him. I told him that Amanda and I wanted to get married but that we had an issue to resolve, and wondered if he had a recommendation of someone who could help.
“Is this a mundane issue, or one that requires creative thinking?” was his almost instantaneous first question.
“Uh…probably creative thinking.”
“Dr. Ginny Boggle, a professor in the Psych department at our fair university, has a practice on the side. She is the most creative thinker that I know, and extremely discrete. However, she only deals in bizarre shit – she doesn’t want to waste her talents on mundane matters. If you like I’ll call her and set up a meeting with her.”
“You think that she could see me even before graduation?”
“Yeah – she gives ball-busting oral final exams in the three classes she teaches, and she’ll have the grades out early – by tomorrow even.” With that pronouncement Jack pulled out his cell phone, walked away from me, and dialed a number. He had a very short but animated conversation before returning to me with a smile.
“She’ll meet you tomorrow at 5 p. m. in her office in the Kresge Building, Room 410. If she’s interested she’ll charge $200 per hour for face time with you and/or Amanda, nothing for thinking about it. Can you afford it or should I cancel?” Jack said with a big shit-eating grin on his face.
“No – even if I have to get a loan I’ll pay her, and I have a couple hundred in disposable income right now, so I’ll see her then.”
I called Amanda immediately and told her what I was going to do. She was completely on board. “Do you want to come with me?” I asked.
“Uh…I’d rather that the first meeting with her be just you,” she replied.
And so on a Tuesday afternoon, I found myself in my best casual clothes nervously knocking on the door of Room 410 at the Kresge Building. The person who answered didn’t look anything like the stereotype of a psychology professor.
“Dr. Boggle?” I said, with much more surprise in my voice than I intended.
“Yes, but call me Ginny; you must be Blake,” she said holding out her hand and shaking mine.
It was hard to determine her age because she was so – well, so gorgeous. She was about five feet nine inches tall, maybe 140 pounds of what appeared to be pure muscle. Since she had on running shorts and a sleeveless shirt that didn’t cover her midriff and exposed the exercise bra straining to retain ample tits, it was easy to observe her muscle – including perhaps the most stunning quadriceps I had ever seen on a live female. She gave no explanation or apology for her attire. She also was to the point.
“Give me a 30 second – no more – statement of your position in life and age, and another of your girlfriend,” she blurted out after offering me a seat in a leather chair while she simply leaned against her desk, her quads bulging even more when she was in that position.
“I’m 25, about to get my MBA from our fine university in about two weeks, I live in an off campus apartment by myself, I’m good friends with your PhD student Jack, I’ve been dating Amanda for about five months, she’s two weeks older than I am, she’s getting her MBA in three weeks from another University about twenty miles away, she lives alone about two miles from me, and she also knows Jack through a testing procedure that Jack is spearheading,” I succinctly replied.
“What are your and Amanda’s goals?”
“Since we’re in love, we would like to get married and have three or four kids, and successful careers. We both have gotten numerous job offers, and we need to make a decision about our future soon.”
Ginny shifted her position, leaning back, her deltoids as prominent for arms as her quads were for legs as she flicked her long blond hair over her left shoulder. “Before I ask you this next question, keep in mind that I will not reveal to anyone what we talk about today without your written permission. However, I will not represent you unless it’s a problem that I’m interested in. If so, you need to pay me a $400 retainer which will be applied against session times I have with you, Amanda, or together at $200 per hour, no charge for thinking about your problem outside sessions. Agreeable?” she propounded.
“Uh…yes; that’s my understanding from what Jack told me,” I perhaps too meekly replied.
“OK. What’s your problem?” she then asked, staring at me with the most intense tiger-like green eyes that I had ever seen.
I gulped, paused a few seconds, and then did my own blurting. “We’re compatible in every way except that the physical aspect of sex is mediocre for both of us. Also, we both have – not lovers, but friends with benefits – that really rock our worlds physically, who we are loathe to give up. However, neither of us is a cheater and once we commit to exclusivity with each other – which we obviously have not done yet – it’s not within our personalities or characters to cheat.”
During the thirty seconds of silence that followed my oration I thought that Ginny’s unrelenting stare would bore a hole in my head. She finally broke it, turned around and walked behind her desk displaying gluteus maximus muscles every bit as exceptional as her quadriceps. With a sly smile she said “I’ll take your case. Here’s the contract; read it over carefully and then both you and Amanda sign it in front of a notary. Bring the contract and the $400 retainer to me for a session tomorrow at 5 p. m. if you can make it. I want to see you alone for a half hour, then Amanda alone for another half hour after that, and then the two of you together for a half hour, one session right after the other. Acceptable?”
“I’ll check with Amanda, but unless I call you within a half hour, it sounds great – I really appreciate the quick response.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she smiled. “This will not be easy to figure out – but I will. And leave a message on my machine – my number’s on the contract – if you have to call to cancel since I’m off for a jog, a couple sets of tennis, and a lifting session,” she casually remarked, obviously just to let me know that she was a super-jock, something that I already knew just from looking at her, She also obviously saw me ogling her body – I couldn’t help myself. “I’ll be dressed more conservatively when Amanda shows up tomorrow,” she smirked, causing me to turn red and shuffle off as I stuttered “Uh…thanks a lot Dr. Boggle…uh…I mean…Gin…uh Ginny.”
It took me a good five minutes to regain my composure after meeting with Ginny – not helped by the fact that I was within sight when I saw her take off on what she called her “jog,” but to me looked more like a sprint, leg muscles pulsing, butt wiggling, tits forward. Once I did regain my poise, using the same breathing techniques that I used before a dive in competition, I called Amanda and related what had happened. She quickly agreed to meet Dr. Boggle (clearly aptly named since her appearance boggled the mind) tomorrow, and we each agreed to put up $200 for the retainer.
As Amanda and I walked up the stairs of Kresge to Room 410 on Wednesday afternoon, I suddenly realized that I had to prepare her for what Dr. Boggle looked like. “Uh, Hon; I think that I should warn you that Dr. Boggle doesn’t look like any professor or psychologist that you’ve ever seen before.”
“How so,” Amanda inquired.
“Her age was impossible to tell, so I looked her up on the Internet. She’s 50 years old but she looks like a present Olympic Athlete rather than the past decathlete that she was in the Olympics when she was twenty six. She doesn’t look like a bookworm or thinker, but you’ll be able to tell quickly that she has a sharp mind and is as straightforward as anyone you’ve ever met,” I responded.
She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “You didn’t ogle her, did you darling?”
“Busted,” I chortled.
Introductions were made – Ginny was true to her word and dressed as conservatively as someone with her body and not in a burka could – we presented her the signed contract and $400 in cash, she showed Amanda a conference room across the hall where she could read while she waited, and then Ginny ushered me into her office and offered me the same chair as yesterday. This time she didn’t show her quads – she sat behind her ancient mahogany desk.
“Complete honesty on your part is necessary, Blake, otherwise I have no hope of helping you. Tell me everything you love about Amanda, in detail what sex with her is like sparing no aspect, and then tell me in even more excruciating detail what sex with your friends-with-benefits is like. Start with what you love about Amanda,” Ginny said as she put on fashionable yet sophisticated glasses, and picked up a pen and held it over a legal pad.
I did as asked. The first part – what I loved about Amanda – flowed easily, and I was enthusiastic and made eye contact with Ginny when she was not looking at her pad or writing. The second part was very difficult for me – and required Ginny three times to lament “I can’t help you unless you’re brazenly forthright,” before I could get it all out, and I never made eye contact with Ginny. Surprisingly talking about sex with Josie was much easier and without prompting I got more graphic – although I still only rarely made eye contact with Ginny.
When I finished Ginny looked at her watch. “Despite your hesitancy in part two – which tells me a lot – you were reasonably succinct. That only took thirty one minutes. I have one question and then you should go to get Amanda.”
“OK,” I said as I nodded my head.
“Why don’t you marry Josie?”
That question caught me off guard. I stuttered my answer. “Uh…well…she doesn’t want to ever marry or have kids, and even though…uh…well…I really like her personality…uh…Amanda and I are much more compatible.” Then I paused and finished with “Plus, I truly love Amanda.”
“Send in the love of your life,” Ginny cackled. I did as told, giving Amanda a quick kiss just before she left the conference room to go into Ginny’s office.
I was emotionally spent, and just stared out the window until Amanda came to get me twenty nine minutes later. We sat in front of Ginny holding hands.
Sometimes consulting her notes, but most of the time talking from memory, and drawing highly astute inferences from what we had told her, Ginny went through the best aspects of our loving, and then sexual, relationships with each other. We agreed with all of her assessments, although I noticed that some of the negative things that I had said about our sexual relationship were never brought up in Amanda’s presence, nor were unfavorable comparisons I had made between her and Josie.
Then Ginny hit us with something we didn’t expect. “Do either of you know the names of the other person’s friend-with-benefits?”
We both quickly shook our heads “No.”
“I want you to allow me to say out loud the person’s first name – is that OK?”
We looked at each other, and after a pause I said “First names only,” and Amanda said “I agree.”
“Blake’s friend is Josie and Amanda’s is Frank. I want to contact each of them and have them in here for a fifteen minute session, IF they are willing to come. Is that agreeable?” Dr. Boggle nonchalantly said.
“Uh…is that necessary?” Amanda protested.
“If I am to provide the best advice possible it is,” Ginny deadpanned, removing her spectacles and staring hard at Amanda with her piercing green eyes.
“Uh…I’m agreeable,” I said, and I wrote down – so that Amanda couldn’t see it – Josie’s full name and cell phone number.
“Uh…I…guess…well, I really need your best advice, so OK,” Amanda stammered and then followed suit.
“Each of you should call your friend right away and tell them to expect my call and encourage them to see me – of if they’re reluctant to at least talk to me on the phone. Then call me to tell me to contact them.” Ginny said, and then bit the earpiece of her glasses.
“I need to talk to Josie in person,” I replied. “I’ll try to do that tonight.”
“Uh…maybe I should see Frank in person too,” Amanda chirped, clearly a little uncomfortable.
“Fine – but the sooner the better,” Ginny sternly replied. Then she stood up and shook both of our hands, and we left her office arm-in-arm.
Except for Amanda’s comment “I want to look like that when I’m 50,” and my “No shit,” reply, we were silent until we reached the bottom of the stairs in Kresge. As we moved toward the exit Amanda turned to me and said “WOW – that was intense – maybe the most intense experience of my life.”
“You got that right,” I nodded. “However, I do believe that she can help –what do you think?”
Amanda stopped dead, reflected for a few seconds and then said “I agree completely. I guess that we better kiss off dinner together tonight and talk to our friends instead.”
“Yeah – you’re right,” I replied. We passionately kissed and then went our separate ways, quickly pulling out our cellphones.
Even though she had some studying to do for a final exam the day after next, Josie agreed to see me with the promise of me bringing in Chinese carryout, and giving her a foot rub. We had nice friendly banter while we ate, then I sat her on her couch and removed her socks and shoes and started rubbing – she always got in a better mood when I rubbed her feet, wiggled her toes, and trimmed her toenails. Two minutes into the foot rub, after she already had emitted several pleasure sounds, I got right to the point.
“Josie – as you know I’ve been getting serious with Amanda, although we’re not exclusive.”
Josie grunted, keeping her eyes closed.
“We went to see a psychologist to see if she could resolve our situation since we both want to get married, both would never cheat, and we both have friends that are more satisfying sexually – from the physical standpoint – than we are with each other.”
Josie’s eyes opened wide. “Really – why am I better than Amanda?”
“Josie, you shouldn’t ask me a question like that,” I mused while I continued rubbing her instep. “You know that no one could be more compatible with me from the physical standpoint than you are.”
“Sure seems like it – oh yeah, right there, that feels good,” she snickered, then cooed and then closed her eyes again.
“The psychologist wants to talk to you before giving us advice about possibly getting married,” I said after lightly scrunching her toes for a few seconds.
Her eyes popped open again. “Why?”
“She says that she needs to in order to give good advice. She’s on the fourth floor of Kresge, only three blocks from here, and she only needs fifteen minutes. Please go see her,” I pleaded.
Josie’s look was hard to decipher, so I just kept on massaging. After a minute of staring at me, with her face going through at least three distinct iterations, she said, “OK, but only because I have some guilt about not entering into a permanent relationship with you. However, you need to complete the foot rub, quiz me for an hour in macroeconomics, and then fuck me the entire night.”
“Oh, the sacrifices I make,” I fake lamented, getting me a playful kick in the ribs and then a chuckle from Josie.
The foot rub lasted another fifteen minutes; the quizzing only lasted thirty three minutes before Josie was sucking my cock. The sex lasted all night – it seemed like Josie was on a mission to make me deposit every bit of cum that I could produce now, or in the future, into her pulsating pussy and she went into a sex gear that I didn’t know that she had, or was even possible. I was physically worthless the next morning, but proud that Josie had to exit her apartment bowlegged. At least I was with it enough to call Dr. Boggle and tell her that Josie was waiting for her call.
Tuesday of the next week, just four days before graduation and after finals were over for both Amanda and me, and just one paper due each, at 5:00 p. m. we again entered Ginny’s office. This time she was in an exercise outfit much like the one I had seen her in the first time that we met, only a different color and – if possible – even skimpier. Again she gave no explanation and made no apology, although Amanda had frog-eyed.
“I don’t know if either or both of you know but I was able to meet with Josie – and she was very forth coming. Frank was not willing to meet but I did have an acceptable – not stellar but acceptable – phone conversation with him. I have a recommendation for the two of you.” Ginny said with a sly grin. “Want to hear it?” she then rhetorically asked.
“Absolutely,” Amanda and I simultaneous barked.
“It’s highly unconventional; I’ve never seen, or read about, a situation like this before,” she warned, swirling around in her swivel chair.
“We need to hear it,” I pleaded.
“OK, hear goes,” she said, then got up off her chair and paced the room. I was so engrossed in what she had to say that I didn’t even ogle her quads and gluteus maximus.
“It is clear to me that you two are completely in love. You’re as compatible as any couple I’ve seen for a long time, and I’m sure that you both will be good parents and continue loving each other for many, many years, perhaps even your whole lives. However, the physicality of sex is very important to both of you, and although emotionally your sexual experiences are rewarding, because each of you has had someone else in your life for a long time that might be as physically satisfying for you as is possible, or at least probable, in this life your own physical sex suffers by comparison.”
Ginny drew a deep breath, stopped pacing for a few seconds while staring at both of us, and then continued talking while pacing.
“If you didn’t have the previous ‘friends-with-benefits’ in your life to compare each other to, it is highly likely that the physicality of your sex would be satisfying enough for you to be content. However, given your long time relationships with a physically satisfying partner, that is not a realistic goal for now. When that is combined with your basic morals and character that despise cheating, there is only one solution.”
Since neither Amanda nor I had ever come close to one we anxiously awaited the punch line.
“You should get married with the understanding that there would only be one other sexual partner in your life – Frank for Amanda and Josie for Blake. You should work out before marriage how frequent the encounters with Frank and Josie should be, but you should not ever discuss them with each other, or even blatantly let the other know when you are going for an encounter. Hopefully you can maintain this status quo until you have children, at which point your feelings may change – or circumstances may occur where one or both of Frank and Josie are no longer in your life. Then you’ll either have to work out another arrangement, or come see me again,” Ginny continued, the last part with a grin.
“What if Frank or Josie doesn’t want anything to do with this?” I blurted out.
“From my conversations with them, that’s unlikely. Since they both intend to remain in this metropolitan area for years to come, and since you each have at least one good job offer here, I think that if you want this to work, it can.”
“So…it’s not cheating if Blake knows about Frank and I know about Josie?” Amanda naively asked.
“Of course not. However, you will not – and I repeat NOT – have an open marriage. You will be 100% committed to each other in every way, with this one agreed-upon exception,” Ginny concluded, with crossed arms.
The three of us silently shifted our gazes from one to the other for the next full minute before Ginny broke the silence.
“Think about it for a while. Call me, either individually or together, if you have any questions.”
“Thanks, Ginny,” I said with a smile as I popped out of my chair and pulled Amanda up. “How much do we owe you?”
“The $400 will cover it – since it was a unique experience for me, and tested my intellect. It wasn’t fun for you, but it was for me. Good luck,” Ginny said with a smile.
Ginny hugged Amanda, and then me. I really wish that we had just had a handshake because her big-titted hard body put prurient non-married thoughts into my pea brain; but fortunately I was able to calm my little prick down so that I didn’t embarrass myself.
Amanda and I had a lot to think about. We spent every hour of the three days before graduation with each other, either writing our last papers, eating, cuddling, or having sex. Since our expectations about the sex were realistic, and since we truly were in love so that it was emotionally fulfilling, we fell asleep each night with smiles on our faces. However, we both knew that we had hard decisions to make in the near future.
Instead of taking a trip together after graduation, as we had once planned, we decided on some “alone” time. We agreed to meet up the Friday night six days after graduation and come to a conclusion then.
While I did take some “alone” time, since Josie was an important part of the equation from my standpoint, I went on a four day, three night trip with her. I was glad that I did because I got lots of important data from that sojourn.
1) Josie was agreeable to the arrangement Ginny had recommended. I would commit to never having sex with anyone besides her or Amanda, and Josie would continue to have bareback sex with me. For any other guy she would require a condom or a recent clean STD test.
2) There never could be anyone who could compare to Josie sexually from the physical standpoint. We were perfectly suited for each other, and simply enjoyed the hell out of fucking and sucking in every position that our flexible bodies could contort themselves into, with any toy that caught our fancy, and with any orifice that we felt like employing at any given time.
3) I really, really, missed Amanda in just this short time away from her. She truly was my soulmate, and as Ginny had precisely put it, if I hadn’t had the over-the-top sexual relationship with Josie that I did, I could have been completely satisfied with the acceptable physical sex with Amanda and not needed anyone else.
When Amanda and I met Friday night there was no hesitancy as we rushed into each other’s arms and fervently kissed and mauled each other. I then got on one knee and proposed to Amanda, with a temporary plastic Arcade ring. She eagerly accepted. By the next morning we had had the most emotionally satisfying and physically acceptable sex of our lives.
Neither of us wanted a delay, so we arranged for the wedding to take place in two months, an inordinately small amount of time. Our wedding didn’t need a conventional church or reception hall – we planned on having it outdoors with a huge tent as a backup. We both accepted job offers in the same city that the University was in, and in the same metropolitan area that Josie and Frank wanted to stay in long term. We readily agreed on no more than three sessions a week with either Josie or Frank, never in our abode, and no blatant statements or body language that we were going to see them, and to make every attempt to minimize the number of people who knew of our arrangement. Our approach to one aspect was diametrically opposite, however.
Amanda felt it important to meet, and establish a relationship with, Josie. She also wanted her at the wedding,
I didn’t even want to know Frank’s last name, or anything about him. Not what he looked like, what his job was, what part of the area he lived in, absolutely nothing, and I certainly didn’t want him at the wedding.
Amanda reluctantly agreed to my conditions with respect to Frank – she had no choice because no matter how much I loved her it was a deal breaker – and while I thought her approach to Josie strange, I told her “If Josie is willing, I have no objection.”
The haste in preparing our wedding and reception did not in any way hinder the enjoyment we, and all of our guests, got out of it. Amanda and I had written our own vows, which did not include “forsaking all others,” but did include a passage that only Dr. Boggle – or maybe Josie, who did attend – would have been able to understand the meaning of.
Everyone had a blast at the reception, including Dr. Boggle who graciously attended although we demanded that she not give us a present. Fortunately she showed up in a pants suit so as not to upstage the bride and bridesmaids, and with her ex-pro football player husband so that the males attending didn’t kill each other trying to dance with or hit on her. We were told that the reception went on until 2 a. m. before the cops closed it down, and Amanda and I had a great time until we left for our honeymoon at midnight.
I guess for me to say that “life is strange” at this point would be the most trite thing imaginable; I’ll still say it. Life is strange.
To my mild surprise, although they are both nice, non-judgmental people, Josie and Amanda actually became friends. They weren’t best friends, but they enjoyed each other’s company and never seemed to have any problem with the other. In fact – and this was to my great surprise – Josie even asked Amanda if I could go with her on a three day business trip to Aruba since everyone else in her company had a guest and she didn’t want to stick out, and at that time had no one else she thought she could stand for most of four days and all of three nights.
Amanda said “Yes,” and was the one who told me about the trip and encouraged me to go. Since I had been given three weeks advance notice, and it would really be stupid of me to turn down three nights of sex with the best fuck ever, I agreed.
In turned out to be just two nights of wild, monkey sex with Josie on the Aruba trip; and it truly was wild, monkey sex, three extreme orgasms a night for me, probably a dozen for her. Josie advised me the morning of the last night “I promised Amanda not to have sex with you tonight since she will be horny when you get home and doesn’t want you worn out, so – and I really mean this – you sleep in Tim and Rachel’s room tonight with Tim, and Rachel is sleeping in our room.” Apparently Frank was out of town at least part of the time I was gone – which made me smile – and since Tim’s room had two beds and he was a pleasant and unassuming old guy, I gutted it out.
Amanda really was horny when I got home. That, combined with the fact that as we practiced more the physical aspect of sex with Amanda had risen from a five or six to a six or seven, left me a very happy fella.
Of course there were bumps along the road – how could there not be. One significant one was Amanda trying to get me to change my mind about meeting or hearing about Frank. The first two times she tried to talk me into it I was between nonplussed and angry. The third time I took a different tact.
“Please, please, honey, don’t bring this subject up again. I never will change my mind – I can’t really articulate why, but it is essential to my personality. I hate getting angry at you because I love you so much, and all that you bringing the subject up does is to rile me up.” I then hugged her tight and whispered into her ear “Please, please, darling; don’t bring it up again.”
Amanda got a wane smile on her face, gave me two quick but zealous kisses, and said “OK – for the small price of one backrub my lips are forever sealed on the subject.”
“Blackmailer,” I fake snarled, then proceeded to disrobe her despite her bogus attempts to get away, and sucked her tits before I gave her a backrub.
Another bump in the marital road occurred one night at a party at Haley’s house, Haley being Amanda’s older sister.
I was in the bathroom taking care of serious business. The ducting in Haley’s house seems to have a direct connection between the finished basement – where most of the party activities were – and the first floor bathroom that I was in.
I didn’t really want to hear it, but I was indisposed and Haley and Amanda must have been right at the ductwork leading to the bathroom for part of their conversation, because I heard:
Haley: “So how is the relationship with Frank on one hand, and Blake on the other, going?”
Amanda: “Actually it’s going quite well, although I can’t get Blake to listen to anything I have to say about Frank, and certainly not to meet him.”
Haley: “How often do you get together with Frank?”
Amanda: “Well Blake and I agreed no more than three times a week, but I was really naughty and horny one week while Blake was gone most of the time, and fucked Frank on four occasions, twice each time, including one over-the-top titty fuck. Giggle, giggle. However, since I made it a point, despite his protestations, to fuck Frank only twice the next week over the two week period it was only three times a week. Plus, Blake has no reason to complain since I let him take that trip to Aruba with Josie which, I heard from her, involved two nights of unadulterated all night long monkey sex, and Frank and I have never had an all-nighter since I got married.” Mutual laughter.
Haley: “What’s Frank’s equipment like?”
Amanda: Laughter. “Big; really big.”
Haley: “What’s your favorite thing…”
Fortunately them moved away from the vent then so I couldn’t hear any more, because I was about to charge out of the bathroom holding my ears shut despite the fact that I was in the middle of pushing out a deuce.
At first the conversation upset me for many reasons. The first was because our agreement had technically been violated once because she fucked Frank during four different sessions (we had no agreement on the number of sex acts per session). The second was because she obviously had told Haley about our arrangement. The third was that Josie told her about our sexual experience. The fourth was the glee with which Amanda described her titty fuck with Frank, confirming in my mind that not just pussy fucks were better for her with Frank, but also titty fucks.
I was a little distant for a few days after overhearing Haley and Amanda while I cogitated – but when Amanda asked me if anything was wrong I simply feigned fatigue and trouble at work.
After thinking about things I realized that the first transgression was only a technical one, and I simply put it out of my mind. The second was also minor because as a woman I knew that she had to tell someone, and Haley was a prosecutor and one of the most discrete people I had ever met in my life so I knew she would never spread that information around. The fourth was just a fact of life, so I lumped it. However, I was going to have to talk to Josie about the third transgression.
The next time that Josie and I met – three days after I overheard Haley and Amanda – I made sure to be as non-accusatory as possible, but brought up the subject before we undressed for what we both hoped would be a very active and sweaty tryst.
“Geez, Blake, I’m sorry about that. I honestly don’t know what came over me. Amanda called me the day after we got back and thanked me for returning you in good condition so that you and she had a wonderful get re-acquainted sex session. She was so bubbly and forthcoming when she said ‘I’ll bet that if he came back a day before he would have been worthless,’ I just felt obligated to admit what happened.”
Josie apparently saw my face drop. “I’m really sorry, Blake,” she said as she nuzzled up to me and started gently stroking my crotch. “You were such a champ in Aruba that I was still dizzy two days later, and I’ve never said anything before or since about our sex life to Amanda aside from general platitudes. I promise never to do it again.” Then as she dropped to her knees while simultaneously undoing my zipper and said “Forgive me” just before shoving my cock into her mouth.
Ninety minutes later both Josie and I were sweaty, exhausted, and very satisfied. By the time that she finished sucking my cock clean after my second sperm deposit into her vagina, all was forgiven.
After Amanda and I had been married for two years, we both got the bug to start a family, something that we had always had in common. There was one problem once Amanda went off birth control (in our case an IUD), however. If Frank was fucking her bareback – which he was – as often as three times a week there was a fifty percent chance that the kid would be his. We thought long and hard about this, and I know that Amanda had many talks with Frank, and if I was reading her body language and facial expressions right he had no interest in being a father. What we determined was a multi-step approach.
Fortunately Amanda had a very regular cycle. Her OBGYN assured her that she could accurately predict when ovulation would occur once she had her IUD removed. On the day of ovulation, given her health, age, and my (and Frank’s) sperm count, there was a 33% chance that she would get pregnant. Counting back from that date, day -1 the chance was 31%, -2 27%, -3 14%, -4 16%, -5 10%, and
-6 and beyond essentially zero.
Only I would fuck Amanda on days 0, -1, and -2, and on those days we would fuck like minks. If she felt the real need to fuck Frank on days -3, -4, and -5, he would use a condom.
As a stop-gap, Amanda would undergo pregnancy testing immediately when she missed a period. If the test was positive the 7th, and 8th if necessary, week of pregnancy she would get a blood test to determine paternity. If it was Frank’s she’d abort – something that we REALLY hoped would not happen. As it turned out since Frank was as paternal-averse as I was paternal-anxious, he decided to use a condom every time that he pussy-fucked Amanda until she had a positive pregnancy test. This made me happy, although I did notice her tits and the valley between them were often redder than normal during this time – obviously there was an enhanced level of titty fucking happening.
Amanda and I were some of those lucky people who conceive shortly after trying, because she missed her period after her first post-IUD ovulation. Her pregnancy test was positive, and we were thrilled. At the 8th week she had a blood test to determine paternity – just to be safe, although the chance was close to zero that Frank was the father in view of the precautions we had taken – and I was definitely the proud papa.
After Amanda’s relatively short morning sickness abated, and once she started to show, our sex life became the best it ever had been. Not only was the emotional component enhanced because we were expectant parents, but the physical side was too. Her normally sloppy pussy became tighter as the baby took up more and more space, so that by the sixth month doggy fucking was almost as physically rewarding with Amanda as it was with Josie – “almost!”
Although of course we never talked about it, it seemed that Amanda’s sessions with Frank decreased after the sixth month – maybe his cock was too big for her constricted channel – whereas she and I were fucking almost every day. From her body language and inferential comments I got the feeling that she would be really happy if because of her enhanced libido and our enhanced physical compatibility I would give up Josie until she delivered. In response I met up with Josie only once a week – at lunchtime so that I would have time to recover by that night and so that there was no real possibility of Amanda suspecting what we were up to. This too worked out well, because Josie and I missed each other so much that – impossibly – our lunchtime sex sessions were even more extreme than normal.
In fact, it was at this time that Josie and I regularly introduced into our sex life something – despite our previous use of toys – we had not done before. I bought a thin vibrator and some cocoanut lube. As I fucked Josie doggy style I slowly introduced the lubed vibrator into her anus, which tightened her already snug pussy to such an extent that if our parts were metal instead of flesh we would have been permanently joined together. When I could sense her orgasm reaching a crescendo I turned the vibrator on.
Josie’s convulsions and my ejaculation volume and intensity were epic. Once she went comatose I almost did too, but had enough awareness to turn off the vibrator and slowly extricate it from her anus. We were both wiped out for an hour, so we only could have one orgasm per lunch period – but boy what an orgasm it was. Fortunately we were both normally very efficient at our jobs, because most of the afternoons after our vibrator fucks were wasted and our work had to be made up at other times.
Amanda vaginally delivered a perfect baby girl with only two hours of labor right on her due date – and her libido had been so high that we had fucked twice the day before she delivered. We named our precious child Mary Sue after both of our mothers. All of our family and friends oohed and aahed at Mary Sue, and even Josie – at Amanda’s invitation – visited a week after she was born.
Of course Amanda’s pussy was out of commission for six weeks after Mary Sue was born. This was no problem for me because Josie was more than willing to fuck three sessions a week, two fucks per session. However, I wondered where this left Frank – although I was totally unconcerned unless it meant that he permanently dropped her which would undoubtedly destroy my relationship with Josie in the process. Despite her aversion to sucking cock, I imagined that Amanda – who was now on maternity leave from her job – would have to start giving him blow jobs. This was confirmed when I overheard the end of a phone conversation between Haley and Amanda when Amanda didn’t know that I had entered the back door when I got home early one day to see my little girl. So that she didn’t know that I overheard her I went back outside and loudly announced my entry into the front door.
Amanda never did offer me a blowjob the six weeks her pussy was out of commission; her mouth was probably sore from servicing Frank. However she did regularly let me suck her mammoth engorged tits once Mary Sue was full, which was a truly awesome experience for me and seemed to really make Amanda happy too since she giggled almost the entire time that I suckled.
We repeated our procedure with the ovulation dates and testing for our second and third kids, both little boys that I was proven the father of, and that worked out just right too. While the sex with Amanda was grand during her pregnancies, after she had her tubes tied post third kid, she had trouble losing weight and her pussy was even sloppier than before. While that might have made a difference to me early in our relationship, it had no adverse effect on how I viewed or treated Amanda and I loved her even more than when we first got married.
Given the fact that women are naturally complex creatures – and Josie was certainly no exception – things with her were about as consistent as could be reasonably expected in the real world. Josie did go through periods where her behavior was erratic, including sometimes threatening to cut me off, and once totally avoiding me for two weeks, but it seemed to stabilize without any long term damage to our relationship.
Given the time pressures on a father of three, there was one really lucky happenstance – although I sometimes wondered whether Josie made a small sacrifice of her career to facilitate it – about three months after our last child was born. Josie got a job in the next building over from the one that I worked in, in a suburban office complex about eight miles from the innermost part of the city. At the same time she moved to an apartment building about two kilometers from her office, tree-lined suburban streets between them. Both her office building and apartment building had workout and shower facilities.
The week Josie moved in, we started a regular practice. Every Tuesday and Thursday at lunch we would change into our exercise duds in her office building workout room, run (not jog) the two kilometers to her apartment, fuck like rabid dogs in her apartment, usually twice (but not with the vibrator because it would wipe out our afternoons), then run back, shower, and go back to the office. We regularly actually ate lunch together – sometimes just the two of us, sometimes with colleagues – at least one other time a week too.
About every other Saturday – unless Josie had some big event that night – I would bring the kids to a play group/ baby sitter in her apartment building (after Josie got a chance to interact with them – which she insisted on doing every time) and we would perform one of our convulsion-inducing vibrator fucks. Then I would bring the kids on an outing (sometimes with Josie along) to give Amanda some additional free time.
Amanda and I were both successful and made a good living, so we bought a house near her office, and hired a Nanny for weekdays while we were at work, but spent almost all of our time – except for our sojourns on every other Saturday (when I’m sure that she was fucking Frank’s brains out) with the kids.
By the time that I was thirty five I was living the dream. No man could have been happier. My kids were seven, five and four and a real joy; Amanda and I were deeply in love – at least I was and she gave every indication of it; we had no significant financial problems; we had a great circle of friends and supportive families; Amanda had even lost weight so that she was just five pounds heavier than when we got married and most seemed to be in her enjoyably ponderous tits; sex with Amanda was more than acceptable physically and very rewarding emotionally; and I was having over-the-top, unbelievably physically rewarding, sex with Josie two or three times a week, and enjoying her company even when we were not trying to fuck our brains out.
Of course there are no fairy tales in real life. A cloud – first just a small not-quite nimbostratus one, but eventually a large ominous hail generating one – started to form about two months after our tenth wedding anniversary.
Amanda started acting a little squirrely. She seemed distracted, made a few mistakes in child care that she never had before, and wasn’t quite as affectionate as normal – although still more affectionate than most wives of friends that I had. Her sister Haley seemed to be coming over to the house more often than normally too. That really wasn’t a bad thing, because I really liked Haley and her husband, but she and Amanda seemed to have more deep private discussions than ever before. The frequency and intensity of our sexual encounters also seemed to “drift” a little, although there was no precipitous drop.
At the same time, Josie seemed to be coming more “needy,” for lack of a better word, than she had been at any time in our twelve-plus year relationship. When she went into the bathroom three consecutive times after we had wonderful sexual encounters I could hear her quietly crying. Although I didn’t want to let her know that I had heard her I did make subtle inquiries about how things were going for her, but she gave pat answers and never opened up.
Then a little over two months after these peculiar activities started, Amanda suggested that we leave the kids with friends for a weekend, and take a trip to a resort. Although the timing, and the way that she framed it, was odd, I was more than happy to go along since I thought that it might snap her out of any malaise that she was in.
The two boys stayed with Haley, and Mary Sue actually asked to stay with Josie to have a “girls’ weekend.” That surprised both Amanda and me, but since Amanda had no objection and since Josie was more than willing when I broached the subject with her, that is how things worked out.
The first day of the weekend getaway was great. Amanda was her pre-two months-ago loving self, the resort was fun, we had great food and even better dancing, and retired for the night with our hands all over each other. A byproduct of kids was that Amanda’s tits had become more sensitive and I sucked them until she had two mild orgasms, and then we had a really nice doggy fuck with me stimulating her clit and nipple, maybe in our top ten of all time.
The second day was full of sun and fun, including hikes and kayaking, and then more dancing that night. Amanda did act a little strange when we got back to our room, and for one of the few times during our relationship rode me cowgirl, exaggerating the movement of her ponderous tits as she did so, and seemingly orgasming much harder than normal. Since she rubbed her pubis and clit on my cock during her gyrations, I came hard – actually freight train hard. Then the scary part; she sucked my dick clean after our fuck.
Why was that scary, since Josie regularly did it, and I thoroughly enjoyed it physically?
It was scary because she had done that only one time before in our relationship, and that was when she was drunk (also a rare occurrence).
Afterward she smiling rhetorically asked “Would you like to suck my titties?”
I sucked her to a mild orgasm, which again hardened my dick. “Would you like to fuck my titties?” was her second rhetorical question. I vigorously did fuck her delightfully pliable and ample tits, which caused her to moan and writhe more than at any other time that we had (infrequently) titty fucked.
When she stuck my cock in her mouth just before I ejaculated on her tits and swallowed my load, for the first time ever, I knew that something was up. Fifteen minutes later the ominous cloud appeared.
“Darling, there’s something that I need to talk to you about,” she quietly said as we snuggled in what should have been post-coital bliss, but which had the edge taken off of it for me in view of my apprehension.
“What’s that, honey?” I replied.
“Well, there’s something that I have to do to keep Frank interested, otherwise I will lose him and that will cause us to have to rethink your situation with Josie too.”
“Well, he thinks that he wants a full time relationship with me, and doesn’t want to fuck any more unless we have one.”
“What the hell?” I snarled, sitting up.
“Hear me out, darling,” Amanda continued while stroking my chest. “Please promise that you won’t say anything until I’m finished – please.”
She looked so forlorn that I agreed.
“You see he doesn’t even know himself. He could no more have a full time relationship with me – or any woman for that matter – than fly to the moon. He’s just going through a phase, and once I’m with him three weeks or so – a month or two tops – he’ll realize that that’s not what he wants, and we can go back to the wonderful relationship that you, I, Josie, and he have now.”
Her eyes looked pleading.
“Are you done?” I asked, not in the nicest tone.
“Well, that’s kind of it in a nutshell. He wants me to start next weekend – to move in with him then.”
I was flabbergasted. All I could say at the time was “What about the kids?”
“Well, they’ll stay with us during the week, and you can have them on the weekends, to make it easier for you.”
“You’ll expose our children to some guy that until now has seemed to despise kids?”
“Honey I know that you’ve never met him, but he’s a kind man; plus Josie has been with the kids many times, and Mary Sue is even staying with her now.”
“That’s comparing apples to oranges, and you know it. Although Josie has never wanted to have kids of her own, she likes kids, and Mary Sue asked – unprompted – to stay with Josie. Have any of the kids asked to be with Frank?”
“They don’t know him – but they’ll like him.”
“This is so fucked up that I can’t believe it,” I groaned, putting my head in my hands.
“Honey, it’s only for a month or two,” the three weeks having disappeared from her scenario, “and then I know that things will get back completely to normal. During that time, since we won’t be together, we can make an exception and you can have Josie stay at the house. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“What I’d like is the woman I loved and married,” I snarled.
I got up, got dressed in exercise clothes while ignoring Amanda’s questions or pleas of “What are you doing Hon?” “Don’t be like that,” “We can work this out logically and intelligently just like we have everything else,” and finally “Don’t leave…” as I exited the room, closing the door hard enough to shake the surrounding walls.
I went for a run three times as long as I normally do. It did sweat out some angst, but didn’t alleviate my pain or give me any bright ideas. Amanda either woke up, or was still awake, when I got back. I took a long shower, crawled into bed, but stiff-armed Amanda so that she couldn’t cuddle me. I didn’t sleep at all, and I doubt that she did either.
I ate little during our silent breakfast, and the two hour drive home was almost as silent – and painful. Amanda would occasionally try to talk further about “Our situation,” but I always responded “I need to think.”
I acted cheerful when I picked up the kids – although Josie knew that something was off, but she wasn’t about to ask me in front of Mary Sue. We tried to act normally around the kids – the boys were clueless although Mary Sue asked me twice “Is something wrong Daddy?” to which I replied “Just a minor grownup problem.”
Monday I did something that I hadn’t even contemplated in ten years – I called Dr. Ginny Boggle, who thankfully was still at the University. However, she was now chair of the Psych department so that she didn’t have time for a private practice. Still, she was welcoming on the phone.
“Blake, so good to hear from my most unusual client ever. I still have your warm thank you note in a desk drawer, and a framed photo of my husband and I cutting up the dance floor at your reception on my desk.”
“It’s great to be remembered by someone as awesome as you are Ginny.” It probably sounded corny, but it was heartfelt because she was awesome in every way. “Even if you don’t have a practice any more, could you see me for a half hour – please – pretty please – pretty please with sugar…”
She cut me off with a laugh. “Stop begging, it doesn’t become you. I have forty five minutes to meet you at lunchtime tomorrow – you’re buying.”
“What time and where?” was my enthusiastic response.
When we met promptly at 11:45 the next morning at the closest nice restaurant to the University, I couldn’t believe my eyes when Ginny walked in. Based upon the reaction of the other males in the establishment they couldn’t either.
Although now sixty, except for some gray hair and a few lines on her face Ginny looked as great, and cut, as she had ten years ago. Those marvelous quads could not be hidden by her short dress, and her smile lit up the room. “Walking wet dream,” I mused before I snapped out of it and warmly greeted her.
She polished off one glass of red wine and ordered the healthiest thing on the menu and told the bug-eyed waiter that she had to leave by 12:30. After he shuffled off she cut to the quick.
“OK, Blake, lay it on me; as before no sugar-coating or verbosity.”
I laid out the scenario up to Saturday night-Sunday morning, in three minutes, then what happened next in three more minutes.
“I guess there was a probability that things could change in your unusual relationship, but I didn’t anticipate this. From what I recall – and I believe that my memory is sound because it was truly a memorable scenario – Frank changing his tune is out of character, and Amanda going along even more out of it. Now if you had told me that Josie was suddenly regretting not marrying you, I could believe it, but not this situation.”
Her comment about Josie instantly crystalized in my mind what might have been going on with her the last few weeks.
“Do you have a recommendation?”
“I’m surprised that you’re even asking, Blake, because you’re smart and I never considered you a wimp. But if you don’t follow my recommendation you are stupid AND a pansy besides.”
Dr. Ginny Boggle then proceeded to pull a pen from her purse and started writing on the daily dessert menu. At the top she wrote “This is NOT professional advice, but only advice from a friend!” She showed that to me and asked “Got it?”
“Got it!” I quickly replied once I deciphered her written words. Then she talked and wrote quickly.
“First, you forget about not wanting to know about Frank – Frank James I believe his name is – and find out everything that you can about him, including a thorough professional background check that contains criminal history and a credit report. Second, you see an attorney and get a formal separation agreement for six weeks – you control the timing, not her and Frank. Third you insist on keeping the kids with you until the separation agreement expires, with her having limited access during the day on Sunday only.”
Ginny paused, bit the end of her pen, and then started simultaneously writing and talking again. “The fourth one is tricky and you have to decide what to do based upon your superior knowledge of the situation. You determine whether to take Amanda up on her offer to let Josie move in with you, and if you and Josie are agreeable you put that in the separation agreement too. Fifth, and most important, you prepare yourself for both contingencies – Amanda not coming back after six weeks, or whether you want her back after six weeks.”
Ginny then handed me the marked-up menu and snapped “Any questions?”
I pondered her advice for a few minutes, and read what she had written asking her to clarify a few words since she had written quickly and her penmanship wasn’t the greatest (probably the only thing about her that wasn’t).
I looked up from the paper, smiled, and said “No questions – as expected, you nailed it. Now what can I do for you besides buy you what I hope will be a great meal.”
We were served seconds later, and as we ate we bantered back and forth in a very amicable manner. After she finished her lunch – and it was still only 12:20 – she hit me between the eyes.
“As for what else you can do for me besides this pleasant meal – you can call me when all the shit subsides, and if I ask you to then, let me write a scholarly article about your story – with you and everyone else associated with the scenario remaining anonymous, of course.”
While that idea did not particularly appeal to me, how could I say “No” after all that she did for me? “OK, as long as we’re anonymous, I’ll do it!”
We made small talk until it was 12:30, and then every pair of male eyes in the joint followed her consummate ass as it sashayed out of the restaurant.
I immediately started the background check on Frank James – I had inadvertently heard his last name several times over the years so I was sure that Ginny’s memory was correct. Then I thought about Ginny’s advice for the rest of the day, and most of the next, and even transcribed her handwriting on my computer, and added my own comments and nuances. I had an attorney friend of mine recommend a family law attorney who was good and could see me quickly, and by Thursday night I had the complete background report and the separation agreement. After the kids went to bed I sat with Amanda in the den, for our first substantive conversation about the subject since she laid her plan on me.
“Amanda, despite what you hope, I think that this will destroy our relationship so I’m firmly against it and don’t want you to do it. If Frank dumps you, we either work together to find someone else, or Josie and I can separate.”
She started to interrupt, but I held up my hand. “You can have your say when I’m done – for now just listen.”
She nodded her head.
“If you insist on going ahead here is a separation agreement that lays out the terms of the situation. We can make minor changes to it, but if you’re not willing to go along with the general tenor of it I’ll file for divorce Monday.”
That got her attention, if her jaw dropping was any indication.
“The separation agreement provides in part that I keep the kids except for most of the day on Sunday. I don’t know if you know it – I would think that you have to – but your friend is a motorcycle mechanic and he has a criminal record, and I won’t be exposing my kids to him on a full time basis.”
“But those charges were trumped up and it was fifteen years ago, and he’s the supervisor…” she interjected before I interrupted her.
“Believe what you want, Amanda – I’m just going on the complete background check that I paid $1500 for. I’ve asked Josie if she’ll move in while you’re gone and according to the separation agreement if she’s game, then she can – as you suggested when you laid this destructive idea on me.”
Amanda carefully read the separation agreement several times – I had it written in plain English rather than legalese – asked some questions, and discussed four minor changes – three of which I agreed to. She was then ready to sign.
“Amanda this needs to be witnessed or notarized. We can’t get a notary tonight, which is when I’d like us to sign it, but I’ll bet that Haley – someone we both love and trust – would be willing to come over.”
“Can’t it be someone aside from her?” she stammered.
“Why – she’s your sister, an attorney, and as honest and discrete as they come. I’ll call her.”
Amanda nodded her head in assent. Haley was slightly perturbed by a call after 9:00 p. m. but when I told her what I wanted to do she said “I’ll be right there.”
As Amanda signed the three originals in front of Haley – one for the court and one each for Amanda and me – Haley shook her head and mumbled “Like I told you before, you’re a damn fool little sister.” Amanda ignored her. Haley and I signed and then Haley gave Amanda a perfunctory hug and me an earnest one, followed by a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck to you both,” she chimed as she exited the door.
Things didn’t work out well for Amanda, in part because they worked out really well for me.
After Josie had been living with the kids and I for a week – and the boys had really taken to her (Mary Sue had already bonded with her the weekend that Amanda laid her disastrous scheme on me) – I found myself not missing Amanda, and considered her daily phone call right after dinner irritating. Josie, the kids, and I had a great day at a kids amusement park during the day on Saturday, and a rare pizza dinner at night (we normally ate very healthy). When Amanda picked up the unwilling kids on Sunday I deflected her attempts to talk, although Josie was polite and talked to her.
After the kids left Josie proceeded to even exceed her normal stupendous sexual prowess, and when our second fuck was one of our vibrator ones we both basically passed out for an hour. Shortly after we awoke and started kissing some tears formed in Josie’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, Goddess?” I asked, stroking her cheek.
“I’ve changed dramatically recently. I realize that I made a big mistake more than ten years ago when I didn’t marry you. I haven’t had sex with anyone except for you for the last year, I love you, I want to have a child with you, and I want to be yours, and only yours,” she said before she broke down completely.
I let her cry for a few minutes then I lifted her chin up. “How long have you felt this way?”
“For about a year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because it would just have caused trouble because you loved Amanda and would never leave her. However, now that she’s done the brain-dead thing that she has, I have every intention of stealing you from her. I’ll be an even better wife and mother than she is. I’ll quit work and become a full time wife and mother if you ask me to. I’ll do anything.”
Then she burst into tears again.
We snuggled with her head on my shoulder for the next hour while hundreds of thoughts and emotions ran rampant through my brain and nervous system. I began to realize that what I felt for Josie was love. It was slightly different than the love I had had – which was now rapidly diminishing – for Amanda, but it was real love. Plus the thought of knocking off a piece of ultra-prime ass every single night was something that I truly was enjoying.
Then Josie raised her head, bit her lip, and trying her best not to streak her beautiful cheeks with more tears said “A week from tomorrow I’m having my IUD removed. If you fuck me after that you’ll be taking the chance that you’ll be impregnating me. If you can’t tell by then that I’m better for you than your brain- dead wife, then we can part ways for good, and I’ll move across the country and out of your life.”
I was stunned. That put the pressure on. I had some really important decisions to make. To help put my mind at ease I started fingering and nibbling on Josie’s pussy, and after we had our first two vibrator fucks in one day experience, we were done until Monday.
Josie and I acted normally toward each other during the next week, including fucking with our normal passion every night. The Nanny told me point blank that she liked Josie better than Amanda. When Mary Sue and I went out for a girl-dad hike Friday afternoon after work she asked “Daddy, is Josie going to be my real Mom from now on?”
“How do you feel about that, snookums?” I asked.
“I like my first Mom, but I like Josie better. Is that OK?”
“You feel what you feel, so of course it’s OK.”
“Will she be my new Mom?”
“We’ll see,” I said with a smile, and then we skipped stones in a local creek.
After Amanda picked up the kids on Sunday I took Josie on a long walk at a local forest preserve. After some small talk I got to the meat.
“Josie – I do believe that I’m in love with you. Right now its 75-25 that I’ll get divorced from Amanda and ask you to marry me right away. However, I want it to be 99-1. Can you put off your IUD removal for two weeks?” I got down on one knee. “Please.”
“OK – for the price of a foot rub and then a vibrator fuck with me handcuffed to the headboard.”
“Pervert,” I chuckled as I grabbed her hand and we ran back to the car.
Four weeks and four days after Amanda had moved in with Frank, she came sauntering into the kitchen right after dinner. The boys were happy to see her and gave her a hug. Mary Sue made no move to even acknowledge her as she ate blueberries and whip cream for dessert. Josie and I were rinsing dishes and then loading the dishwasher. I said nothing. Josie looked away with a scowl on her face.
After kissing the boys Amanda hugged Mary Sue and said “I missed you darling.” Mary Sue said nothing, which unsettled Amanda a little. Amanda said “Hello Darling” to me; I grunted. “Hi Josie,” were her next words. Josie didn’t even grunt, but continued rinsing dishes while I loaded.
It was a very uncomfortable ninety minutes before the kids went to bed. Amanda insisted on tucking in the boys and afterwards, while Josie was still reading Mary Sue a bedtime story, Amanda came into the living room and sat next to me and tried to hold my hand. I pulled it away and just stared at the magazine in front of me.
“I have some good news. Just as I suspected, Frank doesn’t really want a full time relationship, so I’ll move my stuff back this weekend, and we can get things back to the wonderful way that they were. I hope that Josie will be able to move back to her place before I move back in – sorry for the short notice,” Amanda said, trying to sound cheery, but clearly defensive. She should have been.
I turned and stared at Amanda with fire in my eyes. “You pathetic piece of shit! Why on earth would you expect me to take you back after the stunt you pulled, which I warned you would destroy our relationship?”
I had never before talked like that to Amanda – ever – so she was bug-eyed.
“You will not be coming back here. Josie lives here now. I’m starting the divorce proceedings tomorrow.”
Amanda burst into tears. She got out “But you never said…” before I interrupted her.
“Shut the fuck up! I’m not interested in anything that you have to say,” I continued, as demonstrably angry as I have probably ever been. I threw my magazine down, rose from my chair, grabbed her elbow, and ushered her out the door.
“Send me an email about where to send the personal stuff that you didn’t already remove – it’s packed up – and what furniture you want. Don’t come back – the locks will be changed,” were the last words I yelled at her as she shuffled down the driveway, sobbing.
I slammed the door shut, and as I turned to walk back in I saw Josie standing there. It looked like she had tears in her eyes too – but of a different sort than Amanda’s. “Does this mean that we’ll be together?”
My anger instantly dissipated. I rushed up to Josie, hugged her tight, and we cried on each other’s shoulders as I mumbled “Yes, yes, yes it does!”
From the day that I kicked Amanda out of the house things moved with far less drama than one would have thought. While there was some real angst in the meantime:
–Within six months Amanda and I were divorced. I got sole custody of Mary Sue since a child psychologist testified that it would be too traumatic for her to be separated from Josie and me. Amanda and I got joint custody of the boys.
–Within eleven months Josie and I were married – with a completely exclusive relationship, “forsaking all others” – and Josie delivered a six pound ten ounce little girl, just as cute as her doting big sister Mary Sue.
–Within sixteen months Josie and I had full custody of the boys since although Amanda didn’t live with him, she continued her relationship with Frank and one time he hit our oldest boy hard in the face. He got four months in jail and was ordered to never to have contact with Amanda’s kids again. Amanda has liberal visitation, and sees the kids every week.
–Within eighteen months an article about my situation appeared in a Psychology journal, written by Dr. Ginny Boggle. Josie and I fully cooperated in providing information to Ginny, Amanda somewhat, Frank not at all.
–Now, three years later, I am the happiest that I’ve ever been, and Josie expresses the same view. We still rut like animals in heat at least four times a week, and have a family life with no significant drama. I find that a traditional monogamous relationship really suits me better than my previous ones; go figure!