Summer

Monday

It's warm in this room. There are twenty students in all, taking an exam on some sort of mathematics which only seems to involve symbols I don't recognise. My job is to see that they all abide by the rules.

One or two appear to be in their thirties or possibly older, but most are in their early twenties. Some are obviously accustomed to even warmer weather -- there are several hoodies -- but not the young lady in Seat 1. Seat 1 is most definitely dressed for the warmth. I rather wish she was wearing a hoodie, because I need to concentrate on all twenty students. It's not easy.

When she arrived, Seat 1 was wearing a dark grey cardigan. Tall, slim, with long, dark hair, Seat 1 is not strikingly beautiful but she is undeniably pretty -- she has very kissable lips, I notice, though I am not supposed to notice such things -- and her long legs are encased in loose grey joggers. Seat 1 has dressed for comfort, which makes sense when you are condemned to a three-hour maths exam in a warm room, but she is dressed for her comfort, not mine. My problem arose when Seat 1 decided, for her comfort, to remove the cardigan.

Wow, just... wow.

Underneath the cardigan, Seat 1 is wearing a light grey crop top, made of a quite thin, very clingy material. She is really slim but has the most amazing bosom -- much larger than her slight frame ought to be able to support -- and that top does nothing to hide the fact. Every movement is accentuated. I must not be caught looking. I scan the room, for probably the two-hundredth time: everyone seems to be hard at work. No-one is looking at me. Thank heavens for that.

To make matters worse (for me), Seat 1 is not wearing a bra. Probably a good decision for her comfort, but the thin, Lycra-type material of the crop top, combined with its light shade of grey, means that I can see just about everything. If the darker shade of grey around the points of her nipples is anything to go by, she has large aureolae. I look away quickly and scan the room once more. It's time to move around a bit. I walk to the back of the room. I am on my own in here, as invigilator -- there is a back-up person in the corridor if I need assistance, a nice young woman called Janet. Perhaps I should call her in and ask for help -- I can just hear it now: "Janet, could you ask Seat 1 to put her cardigan back on, please?" Maybe not.

I stand at the back for a while and from this angle I can see just how slim she is. She appears to have nice, rounded hips, and that magnificent bust, but the rest of her is just so slim. I now find myself wondering about her bra size. I am no expert, but if I understand it correctly, she must be at least DD or E, maybe even EE. She can't be more than twenty-six inches round underneath her boobs -- is 26EE a real bra size? Except, of course, she isn't wearing a bra. I move quietly back to the front, gaze at her for a moment and tear my eyes away as she turns her head slightly to look at me.

It really is very warm in here and, although the window is cracked slightly open, there is no breeze. I am surprised therefore when I notice that Seat 1 suddenly has erect nipples. Again, I look away quickly. When I turn back she is definitely looking at me. Busted? I hope not -- I can do without the fuss of a complaint about inappropriate behaviour. I scan the room a few times before looking back -- she is hard at work again now and her nipples appear to have calmed down somewhat.

On we go. I notice that Seat 1 develops erect nipples about every twenty minutes or so. I wonder what she's thinking about, in between the incomprehensible maths? I think she's caught me looking once or twice but hey, I'm here to invigilate -- I am supposed to watch the students, right? I haven't seen any evidence of concern on her part. The worst moment is just after the two-hour mark when she suddenly raises both arms and stretches, arching her back and pushing those remarkable breasts out. I feel a swelling of my own developing and decide to retreat to my official desk at the front of the room, where I sit until things are back under control.

The exam ends and Seat 1 puts her cardigan back on. I collect the scripts and make the final announcements, and they all leave. I put the collected scripts in the official envelope, tidy and lock the room and head for the exams office. I will probably never see her again, so lets hope she isn't off somewhere complaining about that pervy old invigilator.

As I walk down to the office, my brain starts turning over fantasies about seeing her again. Snap out of it, I tell myself. She's less than half your age and you're a happily married man. Lovely to look at, yes, but that's all. A dream in one sense, but potentially a nightmare. Move on.

Wednesday

I am sitting in one of the university cafes, having just completed another invigilation. I have another one to do in an hour or so, and they are (usually) so boring, so I am just sitting here watching the world go by and trying to let my mind wander... and, suddenly, there she is: Seat 1. She's dressed much more demurely today -- jeans and a loose, buttoned blouse and this time she is wearing a bra. How disappointing, I think, before telling myself how inappropriate that is. I retreat into my decaf cappuccino and pick up my iPad.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She's standing right in front of me, indicating the chair opposite mine. I look around: there are plenty of empty tables but it seems unnecessarily rude to refuse.

"Be my guest."

She sits opposite me and leans forward, rather than raise her voice.

"I recognised you from the exam on Monday. You were in charge." She gives a little half-smile.

"I was. You were in Seat 1."

"I thought you'd remember." That little half-smile again. "I saw you looking at me."

"Ah. Yes." I think for a moment. "I didn't mean to embarrass you." I pause to gauge her reaction, and then, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she says, quietly, "I enjoyed it. Nice to be appreciated." I decide not to say anything -- I could easily make a fool of myself here. Seat 1 is still talking. "I don't have any more exams now. All finished, so I'm glad I've seen you. I was afraid I wouldn't run into you again."

"And why would a lovely young person like you want to run into an overweight, old married man like me?" There, I've said it. This will come to nothing -- must come to nothing -- and I won't let myself be drawn into something that could cause a lot of trouble.

"I thought you must be married. Don't worry, I'm not a home-wrecker. I just wanted to spend a bit of time with you, since I obviously caught your attention."

"You certainly did that." She laughs at this; it is a joyous sound which could lighten the darkest mood.

"I know what caught your attention," she says, glancing down. "I've got them under wraps today, unfortunately for you." That half-smile again. "I normally keep them under wraps, to be honest -- they've been attracting attention from the wrong type of people since I was about thirteen. I didn't mind you looking though. It gave me a bit of a thrill."

"Happy to be of service," I said, drily, "... but I'm not sure my wife would be very happy to hear that."

"Did you tell her about me?"

"There was nothing to tell. If I told her about every pretty girl I see she'd think I was just a dirty old man."

"And are you?"

"I don't think I am. You are, how can I say this without sounding creepy, definitely more than just another pretty girl. No-one could be blamed for noticing you."

"Why thank-you, kind sir. That's just the sort of flattery that might charm me out of my frumpy blouse and into a crop top."

I can't help but laugh at this, but I have to put a stop to it before it gets out of hand.

"Like I said, I don't think my wife would approve."

"But you would." I decide to say nothing. She is quiet for a few moments. "You probably didn't realise, but I was got really turned on during the exam the other day." Little does she know, but I keep quiet and look into her eyes, which are a vivid green. "Every time I caught you looking, I got aroused. That never happened before. I'm surprised you didn't notice -- my nipples kept going hard and poking out." I feel my cheeks redden. I've given myself away. "You did notice!"

"Once or twice, maybe." I tried to concentrate on her eyes instead of her bust. "But I shouldn't have been looking."

"You love your wife a lot, don't you."

"I do."

"I hope she knows how much you love her."

"She does."

"I'd like to meet her."

I don't know how to respond to this, but that turns out to be irrelevant because, across the café, heading my way, I see my wife. She looks a bit puzzled. I just smile.

"Hello," says my wife, turning the greeting into a question.

"Hi," I reply, and then, looking at Seat 1 and gesturing towards my wife, I continue: "This is my wife, Cathy. Cathy, this is..." I don't know her name, but she comes to my rescue.

"Summer. I am very pleased to meet you. Your husband was in charge of me on Monday."

"Was he now."

"In charge of my exam, I meant to say. He was very attentive." Summer's green eyes are shining. "Very... observant. I just wanted to say hi."

"I see," says Cathy, hopefully not seeing at all. "Well hopefully he'll be attentive enough to get me a cup of tea while I pop to the loo. She puts her bag on a chair and departs for the toilets.

"Oh, me too! Wait for me." Summer jumps up and follows Cathy to the door. Mystified, I go to the counter and order a pot of tea for two, just in case Summer's 'me too' referred to the tea as well as the toilet. They are gone for quite a while -- ten minutes or more -- and return chatting away like old friends. Something has changed but I am not sure what. They sit back at the table and make small talk while they drink their tea. I say very little. I am still wondering what is happening. They're having a lovely time, nattering away about nothing in particular. I suddenly notice that there's a lot of movement going on inside Summer's blouse. The penny drops -- she's taken off her bra. The blouse isn't exactly sheer, but those dark nipples are just visible.

I try not to become fixated on Summer's tits, but it isn't easy. I look at Cathy's instead, but she has quite a thick top on, which is a shame because her boobs are actually lovely -- and very good for a woman in her fifties. On a good day you can see the outline of her nipple piercings. On a very good day you can see more than that -- but that's another story.

"I have to go now," says Summer, suddenly. "I'm at work in an hour. Tescos. Hope to see you again soon."

"You will," says Cathy, with a slight smile. "Lovely to meet you."

"Bye," I say, "Take care." Summer is nearly at the door. She turns and smiles, and then she's gone.

"What a lovely young woman," says Cathy. "She's taken a real shine to you."

"I probably remind her of her grandad or something," I laugh.

"I don't think it's that." Cathy chuckles, and then we start talking about our plans for the rest o the day. I am happy -- more than happy -- to let the whole matter of Summer, and her amazing tits, rest.

A couple of hours later, we are on our way into the local supermarket. Cathy has been quieter than usual for the past hour. We get a trolley and head into the building.

"Nice girl, that Summer," says Cathy, musingly. I chose not to reply. "Amazing tits too."

"Didn't notice," I lied.

"That's not true, is it," says Cathy. "Apparently you couldn't take your eyes off them in the exam."

"That's not exactly true, but... well... they are quite... noticeable."

"They're gorgeous, especially without the bra."

"Really?"

"Oh come on, you knew she'd taken it off when we came back from the loo."

"Well, maybe."

"Maybe?" Cathy laughs, loudly. "Never lie to me about stuff like this -- I know you too well. Be honest about it, and you never know where it might lead."

Now, Cathy and I have been together a long time, and I know she is bisexual, but it is a very long time since she has acted upon her bisexuality. I am not sure how best to respond to this situation, so I don't.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Whatever takes your fancy, and don't change the subject."

"I love you."

"I know. It must be true because Summer told me." She giggled. "I love you too. Now, let's cut to the chase. A pretty, young woman with fantastic tits finds you, for some reason, attractive. You're allowed to enjoy that, your allowed to be flattered and, more to the point, if she's happy for you to look then you're allowed to look. I looked!"

"You did?"

"Of course I did! I was standing in front of her when she took her bra off. Wow, is all I can say." She gives a little whistle and then changes the subject, and we get on with our shopping. Nothing more is said about Summer, or anything else out of the ordinary, and again I was content to put it all to the back of my mind.

Friday

My phone buzzes and makes its WhatsApp alert sound, like the communicator noise in the original Star Trek series. What can I say -- I am man of fifty-five.

- Hi, it's Summer. Cathy gave me your number.

This has to be true, because I didn't give her my number, but I still feel the need to be very careful

- Hello. She didn't tell me.

- She said you wouldn't mind.

- Ok.

- You haven't forgotten me then

- You're very memorable.

- You mean my boobs are very memorable.

- I meant you as a person.

- Sounds like you need a reminder.

I don't get a chance to answer this. A picture message flashes up on the phone. It's the grey crop top, bravely trying to contain Summer's impressive bosoms, which appear to be making a bid for freedom. Her nipples are strikingly erect.

- You like? I know you do, so no need to answer.

- Thank-you.

What am I thanking her for? The picture, or the fact that I don't have to reply?

- Cathy says she's working this afternoon, but you're at a loose end.

- Well, I'm not exactly lazing around.

- If you're not busy, could we go for a coffee? Cathy says it will be ok.

Does she now, I thought. What the hell is going on here. Be careful, old man.

- Ok then. Where and when?

- If you don't mind driving, there's a place I'd like to see, but I don't drive.

I'm being set up for something, but what. I'd better check with Cathy.

- I don't mind driving, as long as it's not a really long way.

- Forty-five minutes should do it.

- Ok then. Am I picking you up somewhere?

The phone pinged with a Google Maps location.

- What time do you want me there?

- I am ready when you are. I have your favourite top on.

- Ok, should be there in 30 minutes.

- Great x

There is a reason I am so worried about being set up. Ten years or so ago, Cathy had a close friend who became a lover, and I was fortunate to enjoy their joint company on many occasions. Cathy was more than happy for me to have a full sexual relationship with her friend, provided she was always present in the room, but the friend and I got a bit carried away with things. Inevitably, we were caught. The incident was fatal to the friendship and almost did the same for our marriage. This is the first time since that incident that Cathy has openly displayed her bisexual interests, and I am anxious not to take anything for granted and ruin a very happy marriage. I need to speak to her before I go anywhere with Summer. I dial Cathy's number, but the call goes straight to voicemail so I terminate it. I am just about to start typing a WhatsApp message when the phone buzzes:

- Yes, you can go. I know all about it xx

- What's going on?

- Just go with the flow. I have a good feeling about it, so don't worry.

- Ok. What time do you finish work today.

- Not until about ten. Have fun -- you can tell me all about it later.

- Ok xx

I've been slouching around the house most of the day, so I have a quick shower, clean my teeth and change into some clean clothes. I get in the car and set off to Summer's location -- the taxi pick-up point at the university.

Summer is sitting on a bench. Just the sight of her nearly gives me heart failure. She is indeed wearing the same crop top that she had worn in the exam, along with some very short, very tight shorts and a pair of flip-flops. She's wearing dark glasses and has a small rucksack. She breaks into a broad grin when she sees me, and runs to the car. Once she is seated comfortably in the front passenger seat, I tap the screen of the satnav.

"Where to, madam," I ask, in my best chauffeur voice.

"Ooh, posh," she says, laughing. "Maybe I should have got in the back."

"As you wish, madam."

"Ok," she says, assertively, "That's enough of that. You drive, I'll programme this thing. Head for the ring road for now." So, off we go.

Once we are out of town, I attempt to start a conversation, but Summer doesn't seem to be chatty. After my second go at a 'what's all this about' question, she closes me right down:

"I know you're curious, but I have this all planned out. You'll just have to be patient."

So, we drive, more or less in silence, for the best part of three-quarters of an hour, and I become increasingly distracted by Summer's lack of a bra. Her large breasts, unconvincingly restrained by the crop top, move enticingly with every corner and bump in the road. I try to keep my eyes on the road, but it isn't easy.

The destination turns out to be some National Trust parkland on the coast. We park in the visitor car park and head for the visitor centre. Summer's energetic walking pace means that her tits are bouncing around all over the place, and we pass three or four people whose reactions are priceless. For a girl who is supposedly shy about her figure, she doesn't seem to mind showing it off. After briefly stopping in the visitor centre, Summer announces that we are going to walk up to the old lighthouse on the headland, and then come back for the promised coffee. We arrive at the lighthouse about twenty-five minutes later, finding it deserted.

"We're all alone up here," says Summer. "That's good isn't it." I'm not sure how to respond to this, so I say nothing. Summer spends a few moments contemplating the lighthouse with the sea behind it, and then suddenly hands me her phone. "Can you take some pictures for me?"

"Yes," I say, "Of course, but I warn you: I'm useless as a photographer."

She strikes a pose and says, "Now." I take a picture. Then she strikes a different pose and we take another picture. This process is repeated about ten or twelve times and on each occasion she looks more provocative. Suddenly, she whips the crop top over her head and poses topless. "Now." I nearly choke to death.

"Careful," I say, laughing. "We're a long way from a defibrillator up here."

"Just take the pictures." I look around to see if we are still alone. "There's no-one about," she says. "So just get on with it."

I take another fifteen or twenty photographs, during which time she steps out of the flip-flops, and then she pops the button on her shorts and drops them to the floor. She is wearing nothing underneath. No knickers, no pubic hair. Nothing.

"Keep snapping." I do as I'm told, taking another twenty or so pictures and developing a painful erection which Summer, of course, notices. "Getting a bit excited are we, big boy?"

"You can hardly blame me," I respond.

"I certainly don't blame you," she says. "I blame your wife -- it was her idea. I'll explain over coffee."

Summer picks up her shorts and puts them on, slipping her feet back into the flip-flops. We set off down the path, me carrying the crop top and desperately resisting the temptation to touch those magnificent, rolling tits. We reach a bend in the path and come into view of the visitor centre, and Summer reaches for the crop top to put it back on. It does little to contain the movement, and I can still clearly see the shape of her erect nipples, but at least she is theoretically decent. When we reach the visitor centre, I sit in the café while Summer orders coffee with scones, cream and jam, and then she joins me at the table, looking through the pictures on her phone and tapping away at it. My phone buzzes; it's Cathy.

- Having fun?

- We've been for a walk and now we're having coffee and scones.

- Anything interesting happen?

I choose to ignore this, because I know I am being set up. A few moments later the phone buzzes again.

- Cat got your thumbs?

- Something like that

The next message floors me. It's one of the pictures I've just taken on Summer's phone, sent to me by Cathy. Summer, wearing only the shorts, holding her tits as though offering them to the camera. A message follows the picture.

- I know everything.

- All I've done is take pictures. Her idea.

- My idea.

- What's going on?

- Just remember this...

I wait ages for the next message.

- Do anything she asks you to do. Do anything she lets you do. BUT

Three little dots dance on the screen to indicate that she is still typing.

- DO NOT FUCK HER.

Wow. What can I do. Eventually I type:

- Ok understood xx

- It had better be. Now enjoy. I have to get on with work.

"Ok," I say to Summer, with a smile on my face. "What's going on here?"

"Your wife is an amazing woman."

"I know that."

"I've been talking with her quite a bit. We really like each other. I explained about some of my... hang-ups. She said she would help, and you'd help too."

"Ok. Hang-ups?"

"Maybe not here, ok?" She looks around, and there are indeed a few people that might overhear. "Let's go for another walk."

We finish our coffee and walk back up to the headland. Summer spots a bench looking over the bay and we sit, looking out at the sea.

"You know I said that my boobs had been attracting unwanted attention."

"Yes."

"Well, despite me being a bit skinny, they started growing when I was about ten or eleven. By the time I was thirteen they were bigger than anybody else's in my year at school. The boys were a pest, but that wasn't what hurt. The girls got really catty about it. Even some of the teachers weren't too diplomatic. So, I just hid them. Did whatever I needed to do to cover them up."

"That's understandable."

"Because they're so big, they do need support, but if I wear a bra they become really prominent. Tops like this are really comfortable and I took to wearing these and then something baggy over the top." She paused for a moment. "And I was very careful about getting them out in changing rooms, or in front of any of my friends if we were getting changed to go out. So, no-one ever really sees them." This surprised me. Summer must be in her early twenties -- surely there must have been boyfriends, or girlfriends. "I know what you're thinking, and no, until this week, I have never let anyone other than my mum see them."

"Wow," I say. "I am honoured."

"Cathy said I could trust you." She looks thoughtful for a moment. "She says you will treat me with respect."

"Always," I say.

"Ok. Well, here goes." Summer takes a deep breath. "How old do you think I am?"

"Twenty-two, twenty-three?"

"Try again."

"Twenty-five?"

"Ok," she laughs, "I always did look young -- apart from these, obviously." She lifts her breasts, one in each hand. "Even now I am forever getting ID'd in pubs." She is serious again. "I am actually thirty-two." I look at her in disbelief, and she rummages in the bag producing a driving licence which proves that she is telling the truth. "So, you don't need to worry about being a cradle-snatcher." She is laughing again now.

"I don't need to worry about that anyway -- I'm a happily married man, remember?"

"You're a happily married man with a bisexual wife who lets you have sex with her friends."

"Cathy told you about that?"

"Obviously." She is really laughing now. "Anyway, do you want to hear the best bit?"

"Go on?"

"Well, as a result of the embarrassment caused by dozens of stupid teenagers, and adults who should have known better, I have never been able to form a proper relationship. I've been out on dates, snogged a bit, indulged in the occasional bit of genital fondling... but as soon as anyone goes anywhere near my tits I run a mile."

"That's sad," I say. "I am sure some of those people would have treated you properly."

"Maybe," she replies, "But the long and the short of it is that I'm thirty-two years old and I'm single." She takes another deep breath. "And I'm a virgin."

I really don't know how to respond to this, so I stay silent and try to think of something appropriate. Summer looks at me for a few moments and, realising that I am not going to say anything, continues.

"And then I met you," she says. "When I got ready on Monday, I put this top on and the cardy over the top, as usual, and went off to the exam, and then it was so bloody hot in that room... and there you were. As soon as I took the cardy off I could feel your eyes on me."

"I really didn't think I was so obvious." I am genuinely concerned now. "I was trying not to look, honestly."

"But you did look, and knowing you were looking did something to me. I've never felt anything like it before. For the first time, I felt proud of my boobs. You were so quiet and efficient and in control, and you were turned on by my tits. The thought of you being in charge and being attracted to me because of my tits... it turned me on in a way that nothing else ever has." She pauses, presumably thinking about what to say next. "Honestly... by the end of that exam, if you'd told me strip naked for you... I think I'd have done it."

"I don't know what to say."

"When I saw you in the café, all those feelings came flooding back... and I mean flooding." She glances down, indicating her meaning, just in case I've not understood. "I'm thirty-two, and you're the first person I have thought about this way. I couldn't let that pass. So I stopped and spoke to you, and you were so completely genuine and honest, I couldn't believe that it wasn't meant to be.

I try to say something at this point, but the words won't form.

"Then you introduced me to Cathy... and I had to tell her, so that she would understand that it was me chasing you, and not the other way around, because you really love her. I told you, I am not a home-wrecker." She took a breath. "So I went with her to the toilet and told her some of this, and I told her about being embarrassed by my boobs and she said well ok, show me, or something like that, and so I did." Another breath. "She was so lovely. She said she'd help me get over myself. We've been chatting on the phone all week long. And she planned this day. Said I should get used to having my boobs more on display, and that I should show them to you."

"Ok... I feel like there is more to tell."

"There is."

"Ok."

"Cathy and I went for a walk and lunch yesterday, to plan all this."

"Yes."

"And we sat here, on this bench."

"Yes."

"And she kissed me." Summer is looking at me now, very intently, green eyes boring into my soul. "And now its your turn."

We kiss for a long time. Eventually my hands roam a little and I feel those magnificent tits for the first time.

"Not here." Summer disengages herself. "Cathy says you're to take me back to your house."

"Ok. Now?"

"If you like. There's no rush."

"Ok, well let's start walking back. You obviously have a plan, the pair of you, I've been told to go with the flow."

"There is a plan. The plan is that you're going to take my virginity. But not yet."

We arrive at my house. I park on the driveway, lock the car, and open the front door, ushering Summer into the hallway. Now what, I wonder. I lead her into our kitchen and fill the kettle. Summer is standing, a little awkwardly, looking out into our garden. She says nothing.

"Ok," I say, quietly, "You're the one with the plan. What now?"

"Cathy said... she said you would know what to do."

I stare at her, thinking back over the past few days and reviewing our conversation earlier. I pick up my phone and open the WhatsApp conversation with Cathy: 'do anything she lets you do', I read, and suddenly it is all clear. Summer is standing with her back to me, still looking out of the window.

"Right," I say, decisively. "Turn around."

Summer turns, looking more than a little nervous.

"Strip," I say, firmly. "Everything. Right now."

It takes no more than a few seconds to remove a crop top and a pair of shorts, but it feels like the world is moving in slow motion. Summer, now naked, kicks off the flip flops and stands before me, looking nervous.

"Hands behind your back," I command. "Feet apart. Stand up straight."

Now I have the opportunity to appraise Summer's body, starting with those wonderful breasts. They seem too large for her slim frame, but there is no droop or sag. Big, but definitely perky, with small, dark nipples surrounded by large aureolae. They are definitely bigger than Cathy's. Summer is clearly less comfortable with this kind of nudity than she was up on the headland. I need to reassure her. I move round behind her.

"You have," I say quietly, a few inches away, "... the most exquisite breasts I have ever seen. They are perfect. Unless you tell me not to, I am going to touch them."

Summer does not respond in any way. I reach around and place my hands over her nipples, caressing them with my palms and then squeezing them gently between my fingers, feeling them harden and swell. I kiss the nape of Summer's neck, lightly, and she moans a little, so I decide to keep doing it. After a few moments, I allow my right hand to move downwards, touching her hairless pussy with my fingertips.

"So smooth," I say. "So beautifully smooth."

"We did it for you."

"We?"

"Cathy shaved me, yesterday afternoon. I'd never done it before. Then I shaved again before I came to meet you."

"All part of the plan, eh?"

"Yes. She says you prefer it."

"Oh I do, I do." I am still kissing Summer's neck, and fondling her left breast. "Did Cathy tell you what I do with a really smooth pussy?"

"Yes."

"And is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"Say it then."

"Say it?"

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you to..." there is a little hesitation, "... lick my pussy."

"Then I shall. Has anyone licked your pussy before?"

"Yes," she says, her voice barely a whisper. I feel a little disappointed, but only for a second, because then she adds, "... but only one... Cathy... after she shaved me yesterday."

"No-one else?"

"No-one." She hesitates, embarrassed. "A few times... people... men, I mean... have... used their fingers."

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Sometimes."

"Did you enjoy Cathy licking you."

"Oh God, yes."

"Did she make you come?"

"No." I could barely hear her voice now. "She wanted that to be you..."

"... but she couldn't resist a little taste, is that right?"

"Yes."

"I can understand that." I take Summer gently by the shoulders and turn her around, so that she is facing me. We kiss, deeply, for more than a few moments, my tongue finding hers. Her hands are still clasped behind her back, but mine return to her breasts, stroking, kneading, squeezing. Summer moans again. "You like that?"

"Yes," she says, almost hissing rather than speaking. My left hand descends and I work my index finger into the valley of her labia, finding and gently stimulating her clitoris. Summer moans again and her pussy becomes noticeably more moist. I remove my hand and lick my finger.

"Well," I say. "You taste lovely. I want more." I take Summer by the hand and lead her to the big, three-seater sofa in the lounge. I sit, and draw her towards me so that she is standing between my knees, her boobs right above my face. I angle my head up and suckle her left breast, drawing the nipple and then the whole areola into my mouth. I keep up a strong sucking action for a few minutes and then release the breast, marvelling at the swelling of the nipple. I repeat the process with Summer's right breast, causing her to moan with pleasure. "I can't believe you have been hiding these away. They are beautiful."

"People were so unkind, just because my boobs were big." She sighs. "As time went by, I found myself actually hating my tits."

"People are stupid." I kiss both nipples in turn. "I love your tits, and you should too."

"I love what you do to them."

"Well, that's a start." I motion her to sit down on the sofa. "Now, we need to establish a couple of things. Are you certain you want me to take your virginity?"

"I have never been more certain about anything," she says, "But not now... you can't do it now."

"I know. So the question is: what do you want to do now? Or maybe, what do you want me to do now?"

Summer looks at me intently with those striking green eyes. She bites her lower lip.

"I want you to do whatever you want with me. Treat me as yours. Do anything... but you can't take my virginity until Cathy is with us."

"Do anything," I say, quietly. "That's a pretty broad set of guidelines. What if I do something you don't like?"

"I don't think that's possible. You are so kind and thoughtful."

"Have you discussed this with Cathy?"

"Yes."

"If she told you about some of the things we've done, you might revise your definition of 'kind'."

"What if those are the things I want?"

I am not sure whether this is getting us anywhere. How do I explain that I just want her to tell me what she wants? That said, maybe she genuinely doesn't know what she wants. In the absence of me saying anything. Summer tries again.

"Look, I know you do kinky things. I know you've tied her up, whipped her, bruised her. The thought of those things with any of the people I have met would disgust me... but with you? The thought of you doing those things... excites me."

"I think we need to build up to some of that, slowly. My question was about now. Cathy isn't due home for hours."

"You can do anything, except..."

"... fuck you. Ok, I've got that. Let's agree on this. If I do anything that you aren't comfortable with, you just tell me. Promise?" She nods. "We have all the time in the world, so there's no rush." She nods again. "And if there's anything you'd like, that I am not doing, again, you tell me."

"Two things then," she says, shyly. "I'd like to know what it feels like to have a cock in my mouth."

"Oh, I think I can help you there." My cock is literally straining to burst out of my jeans.

"And I want you to bruise my tits, the way you do Cathy's."

"Why?"

"To mark me as yours."

"Excellent answer," I say, leaning forward. I latch on to the nearest breast, just above the nipple, and proceed to inflict a large love-bite. I lean back to admire my handiwork. Summer looks down at the developing bruise.

"Oh God," she says, "I love it." Then she turns to look at me. "Can I suck your cock now?"

"Not yet," I say. "First, I want to lick that delicious, smooth pussy."

My phone buzzes. Cathy, via WhatsApp:

- Hi. How's it going?

- Fine. She's asleep at the moment.

- Where?

- The big spare room.

- Why not our bed?

- You're not here.

- Our bed is fine, but remember my one rule.

- I remember.

- Good boy. All things come to those who wait.

- You want her too.

- Guilty as charged

- I want to watch you with her.

- Snap!

- Hurry home then!

- No rush -- this one is a keeper.

This catches me by surprise, but text chat is not the best vehicle for complex discussion. We'll talk about it later.

- We are both looking forward to seeing you

- Should be home about ten-fifteen. Keep her warm for me.

- I will. Love you xx

- Love you more xxx

I leave the phone in the kitchen and go quietly upstairs. Summer is still asleep, lying on her back, naked on top of the bed in the spare room. Bruises are visible on both breasts and her nipples look a little sore. Her legs are still parted and her labia, like her nipples, are red and swollen. True to my word, I had licked her smooth pussy until she was an incoherent, sticky mess, pausing occasionally to kiss her, passing her divine taste from my tongue to hers. After the fourth, seismic orgasm, she had collapsed with exhaustion. I held her close while she drifted off to sleep.

"I never knew," she said, sleepily, before finally losing consciousness. "I really never knew."

As I watch Summer sleeping in her nakedness, I reflect on Cathy's words: this one is a keeper. In the past, when experimenting with threesomes, bondage and one or two other kinks, we had discussed the possibility of adding a third person permanently to our relationship. We had never really found the right person, however, and then my indiscretion put an end to the idea, I had believed, for ever. Now it appears that Cathy is putting the idea back on the table. I leave Summer sleeping and go into our own bedroom, opening the bottom drawer of our wardrobe. All the kit is still there: ropes, chains, leather cuffs, nipple clamps... my cock hardens at the thought of Summer's magnificent tits, tied and clamped. No rush, Cathy had said, and she was right. After all, I tell myself, she's still a virgin.

I tiptoe back into the spare room and gaze once more at our guest. Summer has chalked up several firsts today, I think, at the age of thirty-two. Her first experience of oral sex on the receiving end, for a start. Her first, albeit tentative steps into the world of Saco-masochism, too, inspired by what Cathy had told her. Most spectacularly, her first attempt at sucking cock, combined with the use of her tits as a place for me to fuck. I had warned her that I was about to come, and attempted to pull out of her mouth, but she'd grabbed me by the buttocks and pulled me back in, whereupon I had shot an impressive load into her mouth. Some of my semen had dribbled out of her mouth and dripped onto her tits. She looks completely wanton, lying there wearing my bruises and dried cum. I silently go downstairs, fetch my phone and return to take a photograph, which I send via WhatsApp to Cathy, and start to consider just what Summer should be doing at ten-fifteen when Cathy is due home. She should be naked -- I think they're both expecting that -- but should she be bound? Too soon, I decide, for Summer.

I wake Summer, very gently, at nine-forty-five, with a glass of red wine at the ready. She smiles at me a little shyly, conscious of the bruises and dried cum. I decide to reassure her immediately.

"Hello gorgeous," I start. "I must be the luckiest man on earth. You here with me now and Cathy due home in half an hour." I lean forward and kiss Summer on the lips. Our tongues dance, and then she replies, a little sleepily.

"I should get dressed... need to clean up a bit... shower."

"No, sweetheart, Cathy will want to find you just as you are."

"Ok." She sits up a little and takes a sip of her wine. "I should probably drink some water."

"We both should." I reach out and touch her bruised right breast. Both tits have love-bites which are quite impressively large. "Are you ok," I ask, "With these?"

"More than ok," she replies. The vivid green eyes hold my gaze and I see her pupils dilate. "I feel... I don't now how I feel. All these years of being ashamed of these and now... now I can't construct a coherent sentence." She gives herself a moment for thought. "I feel like a bit of a slut," she says, with an expression of mild horror, "But I have never ever thought of myself as a slut. Quite the reverse."

"Go on."

"It's how I felt on Monday, in the exam. It's you. Something about you does this to me. I couldn't bear the thought of being a slut with any of the men who have asked me out over the years... would run a mile if they suggested that I was... but with you." She takes a breath. "Right now, I'm a slut, but only for you." Another breath. "I'm your slut." She holds her bruised tits up to me. "And these prove it."

I'm your slut -- exactly the words Cathy used twenty-odd years ago, and still does.

Just after ten-fifteen I hear the key in the front door. Cathy's voice from the hall. "Hello darlings! Where are you?"

"Lounge," I call.

Cathy appears in the doorway and takes in the scene. I am seated in the middle of the big sofa, naked, legs apart. Summer is kneeling before me, enthusiastically sucking my cock, head bobbing up and down. Cathy nods, and takes off her jacket to reveal her naked tits, smaller than Summer's but still sizeable, and decorated with piercings in both nipples and a tattoo on the left breast. Cathy walks behind the sofa to stand immediately behind me. Summer looks up at her, eyes smiling.

"Let me look at you," says Cathy. Summer releases my cock from her mouth and sits back on her haunches, now displaying her amazing breasts, each showing a deep bruise. "Someone's been having fun, I see," says Cathy, sternly, "And you," she says, addressing Summer, "... turned into a slut pretty bloody quickly."

"Yes," replies Summer, "But I'm still a virgin."

"Not for much longer darling. But I have some catching up to do." Cathy moves around and kneels next to Summer. "Those bruises," she says to me. "I want the same." Then she turns to Summer. "But first, you look a bit of a mess darling." And she leans across to lick my dried cum from Summer's tits.

Within a few minutes, Cathy is naked and we are all in the main bedroom. Cathy climbs on to the bed and motions Summer to lie beside her. They kiss, and my erection, which had subsided a little, returns to full strength. Cathy spreads her legs a little more, and touches herself, manipulating her clit piercing.

"Still want to lose your virginity?"

"More than ever," Summer replies, with a hint of nervousness.

"Still want my husband to do the deed?"

"Yes... please."

"Ok then, but first I think you need to see what you are getting into."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Summer is clearly nervous now.

"You'll see." Cathy beckons me to her. "Now, those bruises." I take great delight in giving her two, large love-bites, one on each breast, in more or less the same positions as on Summer's. Cathy looks down at them with a satisfied expression. "That's better. Now he's marked us both as his."

"Yes." Summer looks down at her own bruises. "I love them."

"We'll discuss that more later. Right now, my husband is going to fuck me, and show you what to expect later." She turns over onto her hands and knees. "I hope he's good and hard, darling. Can you make sure he is, for me?" Summer moves to me and envelopes my hard cock with her mouth, taking it surprisingly deep for one of such inexperience.

I take my now steel-hard cock from Summer's mouth and gently push her aside so that I can climb on the bed behind Cathy. Placing my hands on the cheeks of her arse, I pull her pussy lips open with my thumbs. Summer gives a little gasp as she notices Cathy's labia piercings. I push my cock into Cathy with little ceremony, and she grunts in response. I start to fuck her, increasing in depth and pace quite quickly. "Oh God, yes," Cathy says, between grunts. "I need this." I raise my hands and slap her arse on both cheeks, hard enough to be able to see my handprints, then grab her buttocks and begin thrusting harder. "Ow, that hurts."

"You love it."

"Yes, but it still hurts."

To my right is a chest-of-drawers with a mirror, and I can see our reflection. Cathy's tits are swaying furiously back and forth below her. She is deliberately dragging her pierced nipples over the coverlet. I spank her again, twice more, and up the pace a little more. Two more spanks and I pull out, take her by the arm and turn her over. I move her so that her head is backwards over the edge of the bed and stand in front of her to feed my hard cock, slick with her pussy juices, into her mouth. I now start to move in and out, pushing a little deeper each time. This is not a blowjob, this is irrumation. Cathy's tits, now splaying outwards and downwards into her armpits, are swaying again, so I take a hold of them and squeeze. Cathy groans in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Summer, I notice, is in a trancelike state, highly aroused with beads of sweat on her upper lip, fixated on Cathy's body as I fuck her mouth. My cock is pushing into Cathy's throat and she gags a little. I pull back, give her a moment to recover and then push in deeper. As my cock enters her throat and she overcomes the gag reflex to swallow the tip, a slight bulge appears in her throat. Summer gasps again.

We continue for a few minutes more, and then I release Cathy's tits, which now show very clear bruising from my fingers and thumbs. I remove my cock from her throat and turn her again. Climbing between her legs which I lift over my shoulders, thrusting my cock back into her pussy. I now fuck her as hard as I can. Cathy's face is a deep red blush, as is her chest, and her tits are literally flying back and forth. I can feel myself getting close to orgasm, so I pull out. Cathy groans in frustration. I lift her legs higher and push my cock against her arse. She shakes her head a little, but I know that this isn't a 'no' -- we have signals for that -- this is just for effect. My cock is slippery from her wet pussy and I push harder, entering her arse and pushing deep inside. Cathy screams in ecstasy, an orgasm taking her by surprise. She has had two smaller climaxes already but this is a belter. Her eyes are closed.

"Look at me," I command. Her eyes open. "Where do you want it?"

"Anywhere."

"Where do you want my cum?"

"Wherever you want. I have no choice."

Summer is openly masturbating now, her own tits swaying back and forth with her movements. Her green eyes, fixated for the past half-hour on Cathy's body, now meet my own stare.

"You decide," I say to her, between thrusts. "Mouth, pussy or arse? Where shall I deposit my seed?"

"Pussy," she replies, after a few seconds contemplation.

"Good answer," I say. "You can lick it out of her later." I pull my cock out of Cathy's arse and shove it back into her pussy.

"Oh... God... another one..." cries Cathy, shuddering. I have been to the brink of orgasm at least six times already, between Summer and Cathy. I can hold it no longer, and fill her with my cum.

Cathy is spent, bruised, exhausted. Her eyes are closed and she is virtually unconscious. Summer is wide-eyed, spellbound. She has masturbated herself to her own climax at almost the same time as mine. I notice, however, that one of Summer's hands is clasping one of Cathy's, fingers interlinked.

"Well?" I look at Summer, who is staring at Cathy's ravaged form. "Now you know. What do you think? If you've changed your mind, now's the time to say so."

"No," says Summer, still gazing at Cathy. "I haven't changed my mind." Her eyes find mine. "Do that to me. All of it."

It is obvious that we -- well, Cathy and I, anyway -- need some time to recover. I lay down alongside Cathy and turn her face to mine, so that I can kiss her.

"I love you," I say, between kisses. Summer quietly lies down on the other side of Cathy and begins caressing first her arm, then her shoulder and then, tentatively, her breast. Cathy sighs for contentedly, turns to face Summer and they kiss. We remain like this for a long time, gently kissing and caressing. Eventually, the caresses become more active and I feel some life returning to my cock. Cathy kisses Summer for probably the two-hundredth time and then says:

"It's time, don't you think?"

Summer bites her lower lip and nods.

"Remember," I say, "You can call time on this at any stage, if it's too much."

"I know," she says. "I won't."

"I get her first," says Cathy, spreading Summer's legs. As she moves closer to Summer's hairless mound, she says, quietly, "I get you ready for him, then I get him ready for you." Her tongue parts Summer's cleft and she begins to lick. Summer moans. I decide to take charge.

"You get her ready, by all means. Summer can get me ready herself." I move up and push my cock against Summer's parted mouth. She has sucked my cock already, but not like this. I clasp the back of her head and begin to fuck her face. With my other hand I take hold of one of Summer's tits and squeeze, gently at first and then a little harder. Cathy lifts her head from Summer's pussy.

"What did you do then?"

"Squeezed her tit."

"She liked that. Made her wetter."

I thrust my cock into Summer's mouth, harder and deeper than before, squeezing her breast with more force. Summer moans in half-hearted protest.

"I think now's the time." I pull my cock from her mouth and gently push Cathy from between Summer's thighs. Summer instinctively tries to close her legs but I push them apart, a little roughly, and move between them, lining my cock up with her wet, swollen slit. "You've done a good job on her," I complement Cathy.

"Looks like she's done a good job on you." Cathy has moved up and alongside Summer, taking both her hands and holding them, together, above her head. "Last chance, baby girl," she says, quietly, before he takes away your innocence for ever."

"She's not a child," I say. "She knows what she wants."

I thrust my cock into Summer's wet hole. She gasps and her eyes widen, but she doesn't cry out in pain. I push myself further in, until I feel my balls against her, watching her facial expression. Her initial shock has given way to pure lust. I pull out, almost to the tip, and thrust in again.

"Well?" I look into Summer's beautiful green eyes, and begin thrusting rhythmically. "Happy?"

"Fuck me." Her eyes hold mine. "Make me yours."

Saturday

Morning sunlight penetrates a gap in the curtains as I wake up. For the first time in many years, the warm body to my right is not Cathy's. Summer is sleeping on her side, facing me, My right arm is trapped between her tits and her right hand rests on my chest. I raise my head and look over Summer's shoulder to see that Cathy is spooning her on the other side of the bed. Both are fast asleep, and I need the toilet, so I gently extricate myself and leave the room. When I return, a few minutes later, there has been some movement. The two women are now facing one another, eyes closed, sleepily kissing. I decide to give them some time to themselves and make coffee.

Downstairs, waiting for the kettle, I reflect on the previous night. The hightlight, for me, was just after I finally shot my load inside Summer's pussy -- did we ever discuss birth control, I wonder -- Summer was on her knees and Cathy had crawled underneath her to suck on her boobs. I was giving it my all, and the combination of my hard thrusting and the angle of my cock, stimulating her g-spot, coupled with Cathy's onslaught on her tits, sent Summer over the edge. She orgasmed, loudly, and her pussy clenched around my cock. I'd been servicing her in various positions for about forty-five minutes but this was sensory overload. When I finished spurting inside her, I stood back to admire my work -- my creampie visible between Summer's pussy lips and a number of handprints and finger-sized bruises on her arse cheeks. Cathy, knowing exactly what had happened, shuffled further underneath Summer, between her thighs, and started lapping at her pussy. If you have never watched your wife lick your semen out of another woman's vagina, well... I can thoroughly recommend it. This was better than that though. Summer's face was now immediately over Cathy's groin. After a brief hesitation, Summer pushed Cathy's thighs apart, spread her labia and went in with her own tongue. Both women were now eating my cum from one another. Wow.

The kettle is boiling. I make the coffee and head back upstairs with three cups on a tray.

"Morning, ladies. Coffee?" I say this as I go through the doorway, not paying attention. Cathy is on her back, legs apart. Summer is between her thighs.

"Give us a minute," says Cathy, between grunts and moans. I put the tray down and admire the view.

Cathy is right -- it only takes a minute or so, and she reaches a shuddering climax. Summer appears to be a natural at cunnilingus, just as she is at fellatio. Cathy could be right about something else, I think: maybe this girl is a keeper. What, exactly, would that mean.

Cathy, Summer and I sip at our coffee, waiting for someone to speak. Summer breaks the silence.

"I... er... suppose I should say thank-you, to both of you," she says. "All these years I have felt like there was something wrong with me. The longer it went on, the more difficult it became to change."

"You've just given me the best night of my life, probably," I reply, looking at Cathy to see her reaction. "You don't need to thank me for anything. If anyone deserves the credit, it's Cathy." There is no immediate response to this. Cathy looks like the cat who got the cream. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Oh, that's easy," says Cathy. "You're cooking lunch. Summer and I have some shopping to do, and then the three of us need a proper chat."

"Ok," I say. "Does that chat involve..." I hesitate, not wanting to spoil the mood.

"Birth control?" Summer looks a little sheepish. "We all got a bit caught up in the moment, didn't we."

"We did," I reply.

"It's ok, I think." Summer looks at Cathy. My cycle is really regular and I am pretty sure I'm safe at the moment, but if this is going to carry on..."

"We'll get a morning-after pill while we're out, just in case," says Cathy, "And maybe we should see about something more long-term."

"I agree." Summer looks at me. "I want more of this." She laughs. "I'm thirty-two for God's sake, and I only just started having sex. I have a LOT of catching up to do."

"We're more than happy to help," says Cathy. She turns to me. "Don't make lunch too early, will you, 'cause we might be a while."

The day wears on, and my decision to prepare a slow-cook meal -- one that can be served on-demand rather than at a fixed time -- begins to look more and more inspired. I have sporadic WhatsApp contact with both women during the day, but learn nothing about what they are up to. Eventually, at around four-thirty in the afternoon, my phone rings: Cathy.

"Hi, it's me."

"Hello Me," I say. "Having fun?"

"Yes, but I need to run something past you."

"That sounds ominous."

"Hopefully not." Cathy pauses a moment, as if working out what to say. "Look, I feel like I may have made some decisions this week that you weren't really a part of."

"That's ok," I say. "I'm having fun." I chuckle. "I think you are too."

"I am. But I may have gone a bit further than I should."

"Go on."

"You know we once talked about having a third person in our relationship, you know, on a full-time basis?"

"That was a long time ago," I reply, "Before..."

"We don't need to go through that again. Water under the bridge." She pauses. "This is important and we need to get it right."

"Ok, I'm listening."

"Well, it must be obvious by now."

"You're asking whether Summer could be a permanent fixture in our relationship? I'd say yes, she could, but we've known her less than a week."

"I've never felt a connection like this before, except with you. And she is devoted to you, you know? She's a perfect fit for us."

"Look," I say, "I am more than happy for Summer to spend more time with us, but you didn't need to ask me that. You've done something, haven't you? What are you asking me, really?"

"To coin a phrase from earlier, I got caught up in the moment." Cathy takes a breath. "You'll see when we get home. I just need to know that we're on the same page, or at least in the same chapter, because if not, well, I might have fucked up a bit." Another breath. "I like being with her... I think you do too... and she wants to stay."

"Stay?"

"With us. We have room."

Wow, I think. This has moved really fast. She's thirty-two... how long until she meets someone her own age and moves on? Would that matter, really? Would it break our hearts? Cathy is waiting for some sort of an answer, but my mind is in overdrive. What are you doing, I think, trying to talk yourself out of something most men would kill for? A gorgeous wife who wants to bring an even more gorgeous, younger woman into your bed?

"Ok," I say, finally. "I think she's lovely, and as long as the three of us are happy, I'm fine with whatever you and she decide. Whatever you've done, I'm sure we can make it work."

"Thank God," says Cathy. "We'll be home in about an hour."

They finally turn up at around half-six. There are a couple of clothes-shop bags, and a suitcase, and a box of books and things. Cathy whispers to me that Summer is not aware of our phone call, and then more loudly asks if we can have dinner at half-seven. Then they both disappear upstairs. Cathy reappears after about twenty minutes.

"Summer is taking over the back bedroom for some clothes and such like, if that's ok."

"There's more space in the big spare room."

"Yes, but she'll be sleeping with us, not in the spare room. She just wants a dressing room and a bit of office space."

"Ok." I can see no point arguing. Cathy goes back upstairs. I set the table and get ready to serve dinner. Just before seven-thirty, they reappear together, and I am rendered speechless.

They are wearing matching black outfits: short-ish skirts and crop-tops. It is fairly obvious that neither is wearing a bra or any other undergarment, and the necklines are cut quite low so that the bruises I gave them last night are prominently on display. That, however, is not what makes my jaw drop... it's the tattoo on Summer's left breast, identical to that on Cathy's. No wonder Cathy was a bit worried, I think. That is a sign of commitment.

"Wow," I say. "Look at you two." I must be the luckiest man on the planet, I think, and so I say it. "I must be the luckiest man on the planet. I just hope I can keep you both satisfied."

"We have matching jackets too," says Cathy, "For when we go out later on."

"And matching jewellery," says Summer. "Shall we show him?"

They look at one another and on a silent count of three they both lift up their tops. Summer now has nipple piercings, and Cathy is wearing bars in hers that match Summer's. My cock is becoming erect. They give me a few more seconds and then cover up.

"There's more," Summer bites her lip. "But you can wait a little for that."

"Let's eat," says Cathy.

While we are eating, my brain tries to come to terms with the rapid-fire nature of the situation, and I realise that there is so much we don't know.

"Summer," I start, "It just occurred to me... we don't know anything about your family or where you come from. Perhaps now would be a good time to fill us in. Siblings, pets, you know." She doesn't immediately respond, so I continue. "I mean, I know you are studying maths, but that's about all."

"Well," Summer laughs, "You don't need to worry about a psychotic father with a double-barrelled shotgun, if that's what you were thinking. My father died two years ago. Cancer. My mum lives just outside Oxford, with my sister and her husband. My sister is a lot older than me, and there are two other sisters also older -- I was a bit of an afterthought, I think. Mum was forty-two when I came along." She stops to see our reaction, and then continues. "My oldest sister -- the one Mum lives with -- she's married with a couple of kids, but they're grown up and off making their own lives. My two middle sisters... one lives in New Zealand with a boyfriend and some dogs, and the other one is a card-carrying lesbian. She lives in Manchester. I don't see any of them very much. They all think I'm weird, mainly because I've never had a boyfriend." She laughs again. "I can't wait to see their faces when I tell them that I have piercings and tattoos and I'm living in a polyamorous relationship. They'll think I'm winding them up."

Cathy takes Summer by the hand. "You can tell us a bit more later if you like, but there's some other stuff we should clear up. Do you want to tell him, or shall I?"

"You."

"So, we found a family planning clinic that was open. Summer's had a morning-after pill just in case any of your little swimmers made it to home base, and they've fitted an IUD." I notice a little squeeze of the hands. "So you can blaze away inside both of us without a care in the world."

"Ok," I say, realising that this really doesn't do the situation justice. I look at Summer and take her other hand in mine. "Thank-you." I raise her hand to my lips and kiss it.

"You can do better than that," says Cathy standing and leading Summer with her. They bend over the table, side by side, raise their skirts and move their feet apart. They are holding hands. Cathy speaks again: "Come on, big boy. We're waiting."

I drop my jeans and boxers and step out of them. My cock was already getting hard but the sight before me has me fully erect in seconds. Who first, I ask myself. I decide on Cathy, and move behind her, pushing my cock into her pussy, which is already very wet.

"Spoilsport," Summer whines theatrically, "I wanted to go first."

I fuck Cathy vigorously for a minute or so, pull out and move behind Summer, whose younger, tighter pussy offers more resistance. She grunts as I push myself deep inside her. I alternate between them, changing over every three or four minutes, increasing the pace. I give them both several rounds of spanking too, until their arse cheeks are red and warm. They are both rubbing their clits and getting nearer orgasm. Who gets my cum, I wonder. Do I have the skill to move from one to the other mid-climax? I decide to give it a try.

Summer climaxes first. As her orgasm subsides I move to Cathy and concentrate on making her come. As she does so, she clenches her pussy hard and I feel my own orgasm approaching. I place one hand on Summer's back to keep her in position, unleash a stream of cum inside my wife and pull out, hoping to get inside Summer before its too late. I manage it, just.

The girls enthusiastically suck my cock clean of our combined juices. They stand, holding hands again, and look at me, expectantly.

"Well, when you're ready," says Summer, a glint in her eye.

"Yes, come on," says Cathy. "Get your trousers back on. We're off to the pub."

We walk about half a mile to a large, quite noisy pub which has live music on a Saturday night. Cathy and Summer walk either side of me, arms linked behind my back. The pub has a large porch, and just before we go through the inner door they turn to me and lift their skirts. I had missed the clue earlier, when Summer mentioned 'tattoos'. Plural. Their pussies are shaved perfectly smooth and there is an identical black tattoo on each, a circular design about two inches across, made up of our three initials, intertwined.

"Summer's idea," says Cathy. "When I said we got caught up in the moment..."

"So," Summer says, green eyes flashing, "You're stuck with me now." They drop their skirts. Summer leans forward and kisses me, turns and opens the door. As we follow her into the pub, Cathy whispers in my ear.

"I love you so much."

We've been in the pub about an hour. The girls have taken their jackets off, but its pretty dark so no-one is likely to notice the bruises. We don't really know anyone in here, so I am not that worried. They have attracted a bit of attention, but my presence deters any active attempt to chat them up. I go to the bar for another round of drinks and a young bloke appears by my side.

"Is one of those two with you, or are they with each other?

"Pardon?"

"Those two, wearing the same clothes and all. Thought maybe one of them was yours and the other one might be, you know, available."

I am not into trouble. I was never any good at fighting -- I can look after myself but only if I really have to -- and I really don't want this to get ugly. I turn so that I am facing my new acquaintance, lean close enough so that I can speak quietly, and tell him the truth.

"Neither of them is 'available' as you put it." I pause. "They are happy in their own company, and mine. Ok?"

"You mean..."

"I don't mean anything, alright. We're just here to enjoy the music and our own companionship. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

I return to the table and make the mistake of telling the girls. They look at one another mischievously and then, in full view of the whole pub, they snog. When they finally break apart, Cathy takes Summer's hand and holds it in her lap. Summer, sitting between us, takes mine and holds it in hers. I notice some interesting looks on the faces of the people around me: envy, incredulity, but no hostility. Cathy leans across and whispers something to Summer, who nods. Cathy then speaks, quite loudly, but probably not enough for anyone other than myself and Summer to hear over the music.

"I bet you're the only bloke in here who's with two women who both have his cum running down their thighs."

On my next trip to the bar an enormous man with a beard and a leather jacket pats me on the shoulder.

"Fighting well above your weight there, old son. Good luck to you. Hope your heart can stand the excitement."

"So do I, mate," I laugh. "So do I."

Author's Note: These characters will return in a future story. I have some adventures in mind for them, but I want to let them be to enjoy their new lives for a while.