I didn't know what Karen had in mind, but it was sure to be very, very sexy. I felt guilty about cheating on Ginny, but pushed that out of my mind. Making love to Karen again was a dream come true even if she couldn't take my cock. But I wondered how I could satisfy her when her pussy and clit were off-limits.
"Don't worry about a thing," she said, reading my mind, "just follow my lead."
First she pushed my swim trunks down my legs and I stepped out of them. She took my stiffening dick in one hand and cupped my balls with the other.
"Mmm nice," she said softly, stroking my dick. I was fully hard by this time and she inspected me closely, running a fingertip slowly around the head of my cock before tickling my opening. Her other hand gently rolled my balls back and forth exciting me even more.
In the old days Karen never did anything slowly, especially anything sexual, but now she seemed determined to take her time. She leaned her left shoulder against me while continuing to gently play with my works. That gave me a chance to unhook her top and pull it off her breasts. I reached under her arm and cupped her right breast, beginning to stroke her nipple with my thumb. Her nipples were darker and more prominent than before and this one responded by quickly growing hard. I gave it a gentle pinch and she looked up quickly.
"Yeah," she whispered huskily. "Do that."
So I began alternately stroking and tugging on her nipple, which soon stood out half an inch as if begging for more. Karen lowered her head, took my right nipple in her mouth and began to suck. I sighed with pleasure. Few women ever paid any attention to my nipples, but she was one of them, knowing how it turned me on. Whenever she was riding me cowgirl-style or sucking my dick, her fingers always started teasing my nipples. She looked up at me.
"I wish you had been there when I was nursing. I used to daydream about you sucking my milk."
I groaned, terribly aroused by the thought, and my dick pulsed in her hand.
"I think about you soooo much and how we used to fuck ... especially since I got V-V-S and can't anymore," she said. "I have dreams about us fucking and I wake up so horny I can't sleep."
Her mouth returned to my nipple and her eyes watched my face as she alternated sucking, licking and biting me gently. Whenever she sucked or bit me especially hard, I groaned and pinched her nipple hard and felt her groan, too. We did that for a long time and just as my abused nipple was starting to get too sensitive, Karen switched sides and started working on my left nipple. Naturally my left hand took over tweaking HER left nipple. Slowly she stroked my dick, now hard as a steel bar.
Stopping abruptly, she pulled me down for a long, soulful kiss, then led me to the bed where she pushed me down on my back. She knelt between my legs and in one motion took most of my dick in her mouth. I felt my dickhead pressing against the back of her mouth, then with a quick, smooth push she took it down her throat! I groaned loudly and concentrated on not coming.
She raised her head and I felt my dick sliding slowly out of her throat, out of her mouth, until only the head was held by her lips. I groaned and gave a quick thrust, trying to spear myself back into her mouth. Slowly she slid her mouth down my dick until I felt resistance at her throat. Then quickly she took me the last two inches, her lips sliding again to the base of my dick. She did that a third time, and a fourth, and I knew a fifth time would see me filling her mouth with sperm. She knew it too, watching my face carefully. She let my cock slip out of her mouth and gently squeezed the head until my orgasm receded.
Karen then kissed her way slowly up my belly and chest until she was lying full length on me and we were kissing mouth to mouth, our tongues wrestling languidly back and forth. My hands stroked her long, smooth back and cupped her full ass, still covered by her bikini bottom.
"I almost made you cum," she said, "then I remembered my plan!"
She jumped off me and off the bed and sent her bikini bottom flying. Her pussy wasn't bare, but her dark pubes were trimmed very short. She got a bottle of lube from a suitcase and stepped up on the bed. She stood straddling me and looked down at me intently. The inner lips of her pussy glistened with moisture.
"You're going to fuck my ass, deep and slow, then ... ... harder and faster," she said, her chest heaving with excitement. "And when I'm ready I'm going to watch your face while you come inside me and THEN ... while you're filling my ass ... when I can feel your dick jerking ... just touching my clit should make me cum!"
It was Karen who added butt sex to our bedroom menu years before, first asking me to finger her ass when I ate her, escalating after a few weeks to full-fledged ass-fucking. I certainly enjoyed anal, but something about that forbidden kink really turned her on, especially when I came in her ass. She would get so aroused that just brushing her clit would send her over the falls. I didn't know if her plan would work, but I was eager to try.
Moments later Karen was on her back, her ass at the edge of the bed. She hooked her arms under her knees to pull her legs back and spread them wide, giving me free access to her ass. Her pussy looked nearly normal, only slightly red and swollen, but I knew the slightest touch could be painful.
I dripped lube into her crack and used my fingers to spread the slick stuff up and down. Then I covered a finger in lube and gently pressed the tip against her asshole. My finger penetrated a half-inch until she reflexively clamped down. A second later she relaxed again and I continued slowly sliding into her butt. Soon my finger was buried in her ass so I pulled it halfway out, coated it in fresh lube and pushed it back in.
In and out, more lube, in and out. Karen was panting with arousal as I slowly, gently added a second finger to the first sliding in and out of her tight ass.
"Don't stretch me any more," she panted. "I really want to feel your dick!"
So I quickly lubed my throbbing dick and pressed the head against her asshole. She held herself motionless while I pushed steadily against her tight ass, then harder.
"Yes, YEEES!" she moaned, "PUSH!"
Suddenly, the head of my dick popped past the tight rim of her ass and was inside her. Karen threw her head back and groaned with arousal.
"AhhhhHHHH!" DON'T STOP!"
I kept pressing and my rod slid steadily into her ass until finally I was buried in her to the hilt. She squeezed my invading member once, twice with her ass, still pulling her legs wide.
"Ohmygod that feels BIG!" she gasped, "Now out ... ... careful ... don't touch my puss."
Slowly I pulled back and my glistening dick slid out of Karen's ass. Then I added more lube and slowly I pushed back in. She breathed hard and sweat glistened on her forehead. Then out again, more lube and in and ... something broke my concentration. I looked up, startled to see Connie's face peering at us through the half-open door. I was sure Karen had closed it!
"What now?" flashed through my brain. "Does she know Karen planned this? Will she stop us?"
But I didn't stop, I couldn't. I could only stare down at my dick sliding slowly in and out of Karen's ass while her best friend stood a few feet away, still in her swimsuit, staring transfixed.
In and out slowly, adding more lube, her ass gripping me like a fist, so TIGHT! And Connie was a couple of steps closer, her wide eyes fixed on my dick now sliding out of Karen's sweet ass. Connie took another step. All Karen had to do was turn her head and she'd see her friend's stunned face and wide blue eyes.
"My GOD!" Connie said quietly, but not so quietly that Karen didn't hear. Her ass clamped down hard on my dick and she turned her face towards Connie. Their eyes locked.
"You ... two ... are ... the HOTTEST thing I've ever SEEN!" Connie whispered hoarsely. Karen just stared. I stood motionless waiting ...
Slowly, Karen licked her lips. Then she spoke.
"Come here!" she commanded.
Connie took two steps and was standing beside me, her left arm touching my right. I remained motionless, my dick half-buried in Karen's ass. The two women stared intently at each other.
Then Karen let go of her leg and her ha
nd darted out. Her fingers slipped unerringly into the crotch of Connie's bikini and she gasped and lurched against me. I looked down to see Karen's hand moving inside Connie's bikini and guessed from the angle she was pushing a finger into her friend's pussy. Connie gripped my arm with both hands and sighed as she felt herself penetrated.
"We can't!" she whispered, but there was no strength in her voice. And the next sound she made was a long, shaky moan of pleasure -- "Aaaaaahhh!" -- as her head swung loosely forward.
Looking down past Connie's fine, full tits and her flat belly I could see Karen's hand working on her friend's pussy, moving slowly in and out. A faint squishing sound told me Connie was already wet.
I reached behind Connie, unhooked her top and pulled it off. Then I put my arm around her and took her tit in my hand, kneading her firm flesh and tugging at the hard little nipple. She moaned again and Karen's finger fucked her faster. Connie was now thrusting her hips in a steady rhythm. She spread her feet to give Karen more room.
Connie moaned steadily, her groans coming closer and closer together as Karen finger-fucked her pussy and I abused her tit. Then she began gasping and cried out, and her whole body convulsed.
"AAAAAHHHH ... AAAHH ... AAAOOOOONOOOO!" she cried. She started to collapse, but I held her hard against me to keep her upright. Karen, if anything, was fingering her deeper and faster. "WAAAAAH! OOOOO!" she wailed and the ripe smell of aroused pussy filled the air. Connie pulled my face to hers and kissed me hungrily, while groaning into my mouth, "UHHH .... UHHNHHHNN!"
Gradually Connie's orgasm began to fade and she found the strength to remain standing, though now her hands were visibly shaking. Karen was no longer finger-fucking her, but left her finger buried in her friend's pussy. On an impulse I reached down and pulled Karen's hand from Connie's pussy, lifting it to my face. Connie watched as I brought Karen's hand to my mouth and sucked her juices off Karen's finger.
"Ohmygod," Connie whispered, staring.
Then Karen recovered her hand and, reaching down, tugged at Connie's bikini bottom.
"Take this off," she demanded in a low voice, and I released Connie long enough for her to shed her bikini bottom. She was barely upright again before Karen ordered her, "Get on the bed," and Connie knelt on the bed.
Karen let go of her legs and slid them to my waist, and I needed a quick thrust to keep from slipping out of her ass. Meanwhile her hands and quiet instructions guided Connie into position ... with her back to me and her knees straddling Karen's head. In moments Karen was gripping Connie's ass as she lifted her face to her friend's pussy.
"OOOOOOH...MY...GOOOOOOD!!" Connie moaned loudly as Karen's tongue drove into her slit and her nose nudged her swollen clit. Soon Karen's tongue was deep inside her friend, stroking tender flesh and tasting intimate juices.
I made sure my dick was firmly buried in Karen's wonderful ass, then pulled Connie back until her shoulders and head rested against me. My hands were soon kneading her tits while my fingers tugged at her nipples. My glance met Karen's lust-filled eyes looking up from between Connie's thighs. I could tell she was eagerly devouring Connie's pussy. Experimenting, I found I could fuck Karen's ass with short, careful strokes, causing a muffled moan as she redoubled her oral attack.
This remarkable combination lasted only a few minutes before Connie's whole body tensed and she began uttering loud, rhythmic groans as she started to come. Her hips thrust against Karen's mouth and her hands covered mine, crushing her tits against her chest. Then she screamed a high sharp scream, "AAAAAAAAHHHEEEAAHHH!" before seeking my mouth with hers for a deep, desperate kiss ... grunting as each orgasmic spasm struck.
"Uh-UH-UNH-AAAAAUNNH"
Connie's orgasm and the friction of my dick sliding into Karen's ass sent me over the edge and I began thrust uncontrollably, shooting a massive load of hot sperm into her body while simultaneously groaning and fucking Connie's mouth with my tongue.
And finally, Karen was coming!
"Mmmmmph! MMMmmmph! MMMMMMMPHHH!"
Bucking and straining below us, her eyes screwed shut, her screams muffled against Connie's pussy, her hands gripping Connie's hips ... Karen came and came for what seemed like 10 minutes. I could feel her ass milking my dick, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing.
Time passed, we untangled and wound up dead asleep, Connie and Karen wrapped in each other's arms and me spooning Karen. We woke up an hour later, refreshed, to the sounds of children playing in the pool. Connie and Karen kept smiling and stealing glances at each other. Then we crowded into the shower together, dressed and went to join our children in the cool water and warm sunshine.
The End.
The Interview
I was in my junior year in college, majoring in museum studies. Everyone in my class—and undoubtedly every museum studies major in the city—was applying for internships that summer. The New York City—and especially Manhattan—is filled with world-renowned museums, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art to the Museum of Natural History to the Guggenheim to the Whitney to the Cooper-Hewitt to the Museum of the City of New York to the Museum of the American Indian, as well as lesser-known ones such as the Lower East Side Tenement Museum, the Skyscraper Museum, and the Museum of American Finance. And I applied to intern at all of them. But the museum I most wanted to intern at was the Museum of Sex.
I sent in my fledgling resume—really little more than a summary of the classes in museum studies I'd already taken and a couple of irrelevant summer jobs—and what I hoped was a persuasive cover letter, as I'd done with all the other museums on the long list, and at first didn't give it much more thought.
A couple of days later, I got what I assumed was a form email from a woman named Jane Williams, a curator at the museum, acknowledging receipt of my application.
I spent some time on the Internet trying to find out something about her, but her name was too common for me to find her. If she was one of more than one hundred people with that name on LinkedIn in the New York area, she wasn't one of the few LinkedIn members who admitted to working at the Museum of Sex.
But somehow that email—even though I assumed it had been sent to everyone who'd applied to become an intern at the museum—was all it took to make me spending every waking moment having a fantasy about the curator.
My fantasy went something like this:
I get a call. The woman at the other end of the line identifies herself as Jane Williams. She has a polished and professional but friendly voice, and we set up an appointment for an in-person interview a few days later.
At the appointed time, I show up at the Museum's office entrance. A pretty young woman opens the door. When I identify myself and the reason for my being there, she takes me down a narrow hall and has me sit down while she make a phone call. After a few moments, a woman comes down the hall and greets me by name, identifying herself as Jane Williams.
She's not at all what I'd expected. She's on the young side—in her mid-twenties, I'd guess—and she has a pretty face with a cute little upturned nose, but she's awfully heavy—I estimate her at over two hundred pounds at no more than about five feet four. Her low neckline shows a lot of cleavage between her ample breasts, a gold cross nestling between them, and she has a delicate tattoo of a rose toward the top of her right one. Her dress is black and short and tight, and she's wearing black fishnet stockings and black shoes with low heels.
She puts out her right hand for me to shake. Hers is small and delicate, but her handshake is firm and emphatic. "Thank you for coming in. Come to my office," she says, turning and leading me back down the hall. Her bottom is much larger than usually attracts me, but I find myself fascinated by its rolling roundnesses as she walks.
She opens the door to her office—her name is on a plaque to its right.
"What makes you want to intern at the Museum of Sex?" she asks—a little abruptly, I thought, although I'd expected the question eventually. "Your museum combines my two greatest interests," I say, as I'd rehearsed innum
erable times. "As you can see from my resume, I'm majoring in museum studies and I'm going into my senior year. It would be a great opportunity."
"You realize that it's not like interning at the Met or the Modern," she says. "It doesn't have the same cachet. It's not necessarily going to help you get a job after you graduate."
"Like everyone in my class, I've applied to intern at the Met and the Modern and Museum of Natural History and the Whitney and the Jewish Museum and the Museum of New York and the Museum of Holography and pretty much every other museum in the city. I assume that you haven't gotten quite as many applications as all the others."
She gives me a smile. "Well, actually, we've gotten more than you might think."
"But you invited me in for an interview. I assume that means that I'm at least under consideration."
"Yes, of course. But I'm telling you as much for your benefit as for mine. I don't want you to be disappointed by what we do here. You don't study restoration or provenances or any of that kind of thing. Most of what we do is cataloging contributions to our collection, maintaining our website, and planning and mounting shows."
"That's fine with me," I say. "I've studied cataloging special collections, I know how to design and build websites and I've done a few practicums of shows of student work at school."
"And we deal with material that makes many people uncomfortable. It's important that everyone who works here can tolerate all aspects of the subject matter."
"I think I'm pretty tolerant," I say. "Nowadays on the Internet you can see almost everything."
"I suppose you can," she says. "But, nonetheless, it's imperative that I personally confirm your comfort level."
"Fine."
"I have a small screening door," she says. "Come with me." She stands and comes out from behind her desk to open a door to her right. I enter the room and she follows me in and closes the door behind me.
The room we're in is windowless and dimly lit. I can see a large flat-screen monitor on the opposite wall. Facing the monitor is a single overstuffed couch.
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