Jade: My Story

[Chrislydi]

So there was a scintilla of truth that lay behind your portrait of the enticing little firecracker then, and what an exceptionally lucky man Walker is to have assisted her journey towards sexual fulfillment. The world isn't such a bad place as long as the likes of Jade grace it with their presence.

It was a little presumptuous of me to just assume that 'magical' tryst with the lone stranger* involved such a howitzer, yet it's often noted on this site that thickness is just as important, and it seems his technique and the thick base, when combined with that extreme taboo element of being so deliciously naughty and doing it in such a public place, were enough to send our goddess into raptures of delight.

Chris

(* not Lone Ranger - Google it)

[BDJ]

After reading innumerable posts in the Library, as well as Cuckold and Hotwife forums, I have come to the realization that my effort doesn't fit the established formula for story construction. It makes it hard for readers to follow when, instead of the rhythm of short posts along a timeline and comments afterwards, they see a continuing storyline being presented. I'm sure it must be frustrating waiting for the next fifteen or twenty minute snippet to be presented.

I'm willing to try posting larger blocks that will move the story along more quickly. This first chapter will be completed with two more posts. I have the next chapter completed and it is, for comparison, about the length of this one. A third chapter will complete our journey. Don't expect it to be any shorter.

But that doesn't address the format I've chosen. I'd like your observations. Has it gotten tedious? Jade, like everyone, changes as she ages and finds success in her profession. I can't help it, the length of this saga is beyond my control, feeling compelled, as I am, to do justice to this lovely, complex woman.

So: keep going with bigger segments or just give up and find somewhere else on the web that is more suited to this type of expression?

[BDJ]

I was back on the trail, trying not to trip as my eyes filled with tears. Was I a slut, I wondered, reflecting on how I had acted last night? And if so, what that meant for our future, I wasn’t sure. Soon I sucked it up and began to walk with purpose. The body moves, the mind heals, I thought, as I focused on keeping up with my companions. I had just gotten back into the rut when we found ourselves at a level area beside the river that was more than large enough to put our tarp up. A sign told us this was an authorized campsite and we were not to make one anywhere else. “I see they made provisions for us to keep our food out of the reach of momma bear,” Stew announced, pointing to a hoist high up, secured to a stout limb, with a rope dangling down. I spotted the ring of rocks that defined our fire pit. Huge logs formed a circle around it, perfect for relaxation. Locating a spot that looked like it was level enough for our sleeping bags, we dropped our backpacks, then separated to explore.

I wandered to the river and was surprised to discover a shallow pool behind some huge rocks with an almost level platform bordering the protected enclosure; the quietly murmuring river only a few feet distant. It couldn’t be seen from our campsite. Quickly stripping, I climbed into its cool waters. “Come on, laggards,” I called. At first they didn’t reply. “Where are you, Jade,” I called back, “Behind the big rocks. Don’t you want to cavort with a naked woman? And bring the soap,” I added. Soon all three of us were relaxing in the knee deep water.

It had to end, as all things do, so after a few minutes of soaking our tired bones we decided to let the river provide us the luxury of cleanliness, though I think I ended up cleaner; having had my breasts and pussy repeatedly scrubbed. Then we got dressed and set about the task of making camp. We were practiced at working together and enjoyed it. Twilight gave way to night and our fire served a multitude of needs; heat for a reconstituted meal, light to see by, and after all the domestic chores were done, reconnecting with my lovers. I wasn’t hot to trot, but content to sit by my husband and cuddle with him. When I saw Stew looking at us wistfully, I switched and did the same with him, adding a sweet kiss to let him know I wasn’t going to forget him. And that’s the way we spent the evening, me being shared with both of them, until we decided to call it quits and settle in for the night.

Our rain tarp wasn’t all that large so we had to lay our sleeping bags scrunched together to get under its protective awning. We undressed quickly, all three of us choosing to sleep in the nude. It was a snug fit: lying together shoulder to shoulder with me in the middle. Only a few minutes had passed before Walker nudged me, whispering in my ear, “Don’t you want to have fun with Stew again tonight?” At first I was exasperated with him. I was riding high on our renewed camaraderie and didn’t want to reintroduce unbridled lust back into the equation. I started to snap at him, to tell him to leave me alone and let me sleep, but then I stopped myself. My husband was once again good with me fucking Stew, I realized. He was over his trauma of the night before and I didn’t want to screw that mindset up; but still I resisted, almost hissing in Walker’s ear, “Stew needs his rest, just like we do.” He was undeterred. “Stew,” he called over at our friend, “Are you too tired to entertain Jade for awhile?” “No,” he answered, “I’d enjoy that.” “There,” he said, then kissed me sweetly, “go get fucked.” What could I do? I didn’t want to disappoint Walker so I only hesitated a second before turning to embrace Stew. I could only hope he’d be more gentle with me this time.

It was almost surreal: my butt pressing firmly against my husband while I began a path toward intimacy with another. Our journey started with us still enveloped in that first tentative contact. A sweet, lingering kiss followed…and that was all it took; I was under his spell again. Stew must have sensed my mood because at first he just lay facing me and returned my affection; making no concerted effort to arouse me. Oh, he did eventually play with my pussy lips, but in a lazy, unhurried way. He spent time nuzzling my neck too, before nibbling on my ear. His hand lingered over my breast, caressing it while lightly pulling on my nipple. Unintentionally, he put me in heaven, floating on a cloud of arousal. Please, I said to myself, let him continue to act like this.

After a few minutes he pulled me onto his chest, then further up so my pussy was over his mouth. I leaned back so my weight rested on my hands and closed my eyes as I felt his tongue gently probing my slit, making circles around the fleshy skin covering my now-hard clitoris. Then Walker was there, covering my neck and shoulders with kisses; his hands softly molding my breasts. I let myself go, registering only the sensations coming from the erotic touches of my two lovers; my mind blank. I felt myself begin to float, buoyed by waves of emotion I didn’t want to deny.

When it began I almost didn’t notice, only aware of the increased warmth permeating my pussy and a wonderful sense of wellbeing: a pleasurable feeling, both blissful and peaceful. Awareness that I had become numb to my lovers’ touch came slowly. I focused on my vagina’s contractions; then a feeling of fulfillment enveloped me even as my heart started rapidly beating. Suddenly I was moaning with a release of all the pent up stresses I didn’t even know had been gripping me. When my heart rate and breathing returned to normal it suddenly registered that I had orgasmed.

I was ready to rest but my two lovers were just getting started: their hands continued to caress me and two sets of lips still tickled, licked, and sucked my orifices. The exaltation of the last few minutes returned as their combined efforts multiplied the feelings in my pleasure centers. I was placed on my hands and knees, straddling my husband, his face beneath my vagina. I felt Stew move into position and in a second his cock penetrated my pussy. Oh God, I thought, Walker’s down there. The more Stew fucked me the more that fact became almost an invocation. I repeated it over and over: he’s so close, the thought acting as an aphrodisiac. Then I felt the hood over my hard clit being forced aside and the hard tip of Walker’s tongue start to worry it. Stew withdrew and began to fuck my ass cheeks. I could feel his balls rhythmically slapping my vulva. It must have been intense because he stopped suddenly and I felt his warm cum splatter my back. But that didn’t deter him from continuing an assault on my nether region. He put his tongue in my puckered opening, fucking it as it were a pussy. I let my eyes close and opened my senses: riding the waves of delectation as they worked in concert to overload my pleasure centers. When Walker began to pinch my nipples I exploded in orgasm, and collapsed on him, unable to control my limbs.

My lovers only let me rest for a minute before they renewed their efforts to make me cum. The next orgasms followed more quickly; each one propelling me upward toward my own sexual nirvana. Even after my sensuous ambrosia had retreated I left myself open to a continuation of our fuck fest: we stayed locked together with me as the hub of their desire. And at the culmination of our fevered coupling, as I was sucking Stew and Walker was fucking my pussy from behind, the two men managed give me the ultimate gift by climaxing at the same time. Being flooded with semen in two orifices simultaneously triggered my most intense orgasm of all, and I became absolutely rigid as I spasmed through my single screaming climax. The intensity and duration of it left me lifeless in their arms and I was never really aware of anything after that; until the morning light woke me I was lost in a dreamless sleep.

We decided to fill the following day with a hike to the gorges’ two waterfalls. They weren’t that far away and we thought we’d be able get back before dark. I hoped to experience feeling the cascading water on my naked body, maybe even get the guys to play with me in it. We had planned for it even, bringing cheap flip-flops to prevent slipping. And it turned out to be a spectacular feeling, even better when I got to suck two hard cocks under the thundering tumult. Mean me, I didn’t finish them off; teasing them was way too much fun.

Unfortunately, the trail to the upper falls was blocked so we returned to camp earlier than expected. We were hot and sweaty so we got some soap, then headed for the hidden pool. Things predictably got frisky after our bath when Stew began chasing me. “What do you want,” I said after I was caught, “my mouth or pussy?” “Which should it be, Walker?” Stew called out. My husband, who had settled into the water about ten feet away, replied, “Easy. Mouth; it’ll keep her quiet for awhile.” I stuck out my tongue. So Stew hopped up on a rock ledge and opened his legs, inviting me inside. I bent to my task, taking his hard cock into my throat, planning to give him a blow-job to remember, when we heard someone speak.

“Bloody hell,” a voice said. “Logan,” they’re here.” I turned my head and saw the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes on. She was tall and slim, with long, wavy, ginger-colored hair. A tangled patch of the same color perched atop her mound. Freckles covered her face, shoulders, arms and legs. I was especially struck by her full, pendulous breasts, which were punctuated by stiff nipples atop silver dollar-sized areolas. I had never been sexually attracted to a female in my entire life—until now. “Oh, damn.” I muttered under my breath.

She was accompanied by a forties-something guy with the beginnings of a paunch. My gaze was drawn to his penis, which was sticking straight out. Cute, I thought, even if it wasn’t very long or big around. What was fascinating about it was the amount of foreskin that protruded well past the covered head. I’d never seen a cock like that. I’m sorry to say I couldn’t stop looking. But they were staring at us, too, I rationalized in my defense. I could only imagine what they thought of the scene they had stumbled onto. Here I was, standing thigh deep in water between a man’s legs, still holding his rigid cock, and there was another one, reclining in the pool, watching us. Then she spoke: “Sorry to interrupt, but we guessed we’d have time for a quick wash before you returned. Thought you were on a day trip, didn’t we Logan?” He added, “Come on, Lauren, let’s leave these people alone.” I could almost see the fire come out of her eyes when she responded, “No, dammit, I’m knackered and dirty to boot, and my hair needs washing. We’ve been out more than a week and I’m going to get clean.” Turning to us she asked, “You don’t mind, do you? After all, we’re all starkers, so it’s too late to be modest, innit?

She stepped into the pool, a bottle of liquid in her hand, and waded to a spot near the river. Without ceremony she bent over, giving us a good view of her magnificent rear, and flipped her hair over her head into the water. Logan, meanwhile, seemed to be torn between bolting back around the rocks or continuing to stare at us. In a few minutes, after she had finished, she turned to look at her companion, still standing on the ledge beside the pool. “Logan, get in here, you’ve got the soap,” she said in a slightly exasperated tone, “Sometimes you really take the biscuit.” I had remained spellbound through it all but somehow that struck me as being hilarious, so I piped up, “Yeah, Logan, how am I going to get a good look at that impressive tool of yours if you don’t get closer.”

Three of us laughed; Logan only smiled shyly as he headed over to her. He seemed embarrassed at having an erection so I didn’t kid him further. As he was giving Lauren the soap I overheard her murmur to him, “Don’t go spare; you’ve got very nice dangly bits. You can’t help it if you’ve got a bar on. Come on, we agreed, so get clean with me.” Their relationship seemed complicated: she appeared to be in charge but he was so much older that it seemed unlikely. My unasked question was answered when she focused on us again. “My boss and I were gobsmacked just now,” she said, “We knew we’d have to share the campsite but thought you were gone. Sorry to interrupt.” Stew found his voice right about then and piped up, “You can join us if you want.” She paused to look over both Stew and Walker before replying, “Hell’s bloody bells, you boys are buff, but I’m not into dogging.” She looked directly at me and smiled, then added, “Though I’m tempted.”

For me, that set the tone for the rest of the evening, even though much of what we talked about was mundane. We found out they were biologists for the National Parks Service, her a Brit interning as part of her scholarship, and were returning from a field survey categorizing native flora unique to the gorge’s ecosystem. I listened to it all, a little tongue-tied, letting Walker and Stew explain our presence. Never having had the least attraction to another female I felt completely adrift with my new, erotic feelings. Every time she was near my pulse started racing, and when she touched my arm I’d swear I felt the tingle all the way to my vagina. It made for an awkward moment. I don’t think anyone else noticed, but every time I made eye contact with her after that I’d blush and quickly avert my gaze, but she just smiled. That made me even more discombobulated.

When she announced the two of us would wash the dishes downriver from the campsite I almost suggested Stew go instead; I was that nervous. As we were completing our task she casually commented, “Jade, I’m flummoxed.” I looked over at her concerned face. She continued, “You see, when Logan and I interrupted your happy time this afternoon I was sure you were naff.” I looked confused. “Um,” she corrected herself, “you know, straight, but since then I get real strong vibes you’re hot for me.” I blushed, momentarily unable to answer. “Have I got it wrong?” she said. This was going to be difficult to explain, I thought.

I sighed; relieved to finally get it off my chest, then answered, “To be blunt, Walker is my husband; Stew is my lover.” Suddenly shy, I busied my hands so I wouldn’t have to look at her. “And you’re right. I can’t help it, every time I look at you I get goosebumps. I don’t know why, I’ve never been attracted to a girl before.” “Jade, look at me.” she replied. When we were facing each other again she continued, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m hunky-dory with it. I quite fancy you, too.” My pussy pulsed with need at her words but my mind wouldn’t allow me to go there; my feelings scared me. Then we finished up the dishes and the moment was past.

Later, we all took our places by the fire: Walker and I on one log and Logan and Lauren on another, with Stew by himself, hoping, I thought, a certain redhead would join him. In my mind they were a good match. But while I thought Stew was handsome I thought Lauren was stunning, even dressed as she was in her weathered Forest Service shirt, which she’d left outside her regulation shorts, open to the point it was very obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Despite that, I stayed relatively calm. Time had given me the breathing room needed to get over my earlier lust for her. I hoped.

I was feeling so mellow I kissed my husband, not caring about the newcomers, and got romantic tingles in my pussy as a result. I was basking in that glow when I glanced at Stew. It appeared his hopes for a vigorous romp with the new girl had been dashed as Lauren seemed entirely focused on her conversation with Logan. And I was glad he had struck out. That’s not good, I immediately thought, I should be rooting for him to score, not feeling jealous. I whispered in Walker’s ear, “Hey, big guy, my other lover’s looking down in the dumps. Can I cheer him up?” My husband whispered back, “I’m good with that, but try to keep your hand out of his pants.” “Ha,” I said as I lightly punched his arm, “that’s exactly what you want to see.”

“Not getting what you want?” I asked Stew after I sat close beside him. “No, it doesn’t look like it.” he said glumly, “But you look like you’re going to get it.” I stroked his arm for a moment, then gently pulled his head toward mine and gave him an increasingly lusty, tongue laden kiss. When we came up for air I whispered, “Maybe I want a repeat of last night.” He grinned at me, happy now. “Sounds good,” but, being the ever-impulsive man he was, added, “you think Lauren would like to join us?” I tensed up and unwrapped myself from his embrace. “Ask her.” I replied coldly, suddenly not caring if anyone overheard our conversation.

I saw immediately that our little exchange had been noticed. Walker just looked amused while Logan seemed bewildered. Lauren: well, she got a determined look on her face and in an instant was standing in front of us. Stew stood up hopefully, but she put him in his place, I guess, when she told him, “I know you’re absolutely gagging for it, but unh-uh!.” Focusing now on me, she held out her hand and said, “Come-on, Jade, let’s spend a penny.” I gave her a confused look, wondering what she meant. A frown crossed her brow, then cleared when she explained, “Damn your crazy language, I keep forgetting. I need to pee and want you to hold the torch when I go.” It took a minute to translate torch to flashlight, then I replied, “O.K., then you can light me up, too.” I smiled brightly, thinking that was funny.

She took my hand as we left the light of the fire behind. I stiffened slightly even as my mind focused entirely on her touch and the pulsations it was causing in my pussy. The suddenness of it almost caused me to stumble. Lauren stopped and braced me with her other hand. That made it worse. After I regained my footing and composure, I said, “I’m good,” then let myself be led into the darkness; our way lit only by the small cone of light at our feet.

[Chrislydi]

It would be a very sad day indeed if this forum lost such an outstanding talent to some other site elsewhere on the net. Your story has it's own unique and individual style, and the content full of interest and taking risks in order to enrich both of your lives. There are lessons for all of us here who help the likes of Jade explore their full sexual potential. The central character Jade emerges from her shell, almost cygnet like, a little baby swan still covered in fluffy baby feathers and so unsure of herself, she's initially guided by the more worldy wise Walker along the more dangerous uncertain waters until she seizes her early opportunities to learn and grow, fully experiencing and enjoying her new found power and becoming the elegant and beautifully matured white swan who spreads her own magnificent feathered wings in a show of feminine power and beauty for all to see.

While sections of this story are fictitious and that's freely admitted, it's at least very loosely based on actual fact, perhaps what might have happened or alternative adventures in place of what did actually happen. In that way it may be allowed to move into another section within the site rather than sitting in the relative backwater that is the library. It's at least worth considering as a change to altering the format or god forbid taking it to another site altogether. The library offers less feedback as it has less visitors than the hotwife or cuckold sections.

The format you have at the moment suits me but I can also see why it must frustrate with a lack of replies and knowledge that Jade's facinating story isn't beng properly appreciated. In that way I'd be very easy about whatever you tried, longer sections of shorter, as I think the real problem is maybe lack of 'people traffic' within the library section.

If you can find a better way for promoting the marvellous story of Jade's full awakening and help a wider audience appreciate her for the wonderfully sensuous woman she becomes, then that can only be good with me too. She deserves to be seen and have a lot more men fantasise about such a fine example of feminine splendour that's for sure, my main worry is this glorious madonna will be lost off this site forever and that's not to be contemplated.

(I'll read and comment on the latest part tomorrow morning - it'll be the perfect start to the day - I only saw it as I posted this comment and we're off to bed hopefully)

Chris

[Chrislydi]

The awakening of Jade continues apace, now that she's fully attuned to opening up to the new men in her life, an opportunity to widen her horizons still further beckons, to feel the loving touch of another woman with all the different excitement and feelings that could bring, something she obviously senses and wants, to fully open up to the full spectrum of her desires and let herself be all the more enriched as a result.

I loved the quirky down to earth Lauren and imagined her with an almost permanent little mischievous smirk on her face, Logan her boss seemed to be almost dragged along in her wake, maybe there something between them - but I suspect little in the way of real feelings. Lauren comes across as innately knowing and almost immediately sees and senses Jade's discomforture, she's just the girl to help her now and show her just what new riches lie in store just awaiting her discovery.

Chris.

[BDJ]

There isn’t anything erotic about peeing, though I did get another tingle in my vagina seeing Lauren pull her panties down. I had just snapped shut the fly of my shorts when she stepped in close and enfolded me in a tender embrace. “Jade,” she said, her voice low and husky, “you made me jealous back there. I wanted that kiss.” At first I couldn’t respond, my senses almost overcome by the nearness of her: the smell of her recently shampooed hair, the pressure of her breasts against me, even the sound of her sexy voice. When I was finally able to speak I said, “I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” even as my confusion and desire became too much for me to bear.

I gave in then to my overwhelming need by reaching to pull her down for a kiss. She pulled her head back to stop me. I whimpered, frustrated from being stymied. “Let me,” she said as she reached to stroke my hair. Another moment passed as she continued to caress me. When she finally allowed our mouths to meet it was like nothing I had ever experienced. The first touch was so light it was almost glancing. This was followed by sensuous pecks, each lingering for a moment so we could savor our contact, ending with little bites on sensitive skin; skirmishes before the upcoming battle of tongues. As each kiss deepened and lengthened, I found myself wanting to hold her closer. I pressed myself into her embrace, then entangled my fingers in her hair. Soon I couldn’t breathe, I was so caught up in her essence.

And she returned my passion, her hands roaming over my back and shoulders before settling on my buttocks; gripping them like a man would. She pulled me upward even tighter to her bosom; breaking our kiss so she could bend to ravish my neck with her soft lips. I surrendered to her then, all my doubts swept away. “Snogging you has got me going.” she said as she let me down, releasing me from her embrace, “Come-on, let’s go have a slap and tickle in front of our mates.”

Our arms naturally slipped around each other as we entered the light from our campfire. All three men looked obliquely at us, then Walker and Stew gave each other a meaningful glance. Lauren addressed them with a no-nonsense voice, “We’re going to be exchanging spits for awhile. I’m pretty sure you’ll get chuffed if you can leave us alone.”

With that she leaned into me for a very passionate kiss. I placed one hand around her neck before entangling her hair around my fingers, then pulled her more forcefully to me. She made sure our tongues were visible as they dueled, then caused me to moan by slipping her hand in the opening of my shirt, roughly pinching my nipple. I gasped into her mouth, forcing my lips to once again mash against hers. We stayed that way for minutes, not coming up for air, increasing the intensity of our desire as our bodies responded.

Once again, Lauren took charge, disentangling us so we were turned to partially face each other. Our eyes locked for a moment, then she slowly unbuttoned my shirt before pulling it back over my shoulders. She looked down at my heaving breasts, then cupped them in her hands. I moaned at her touch. When she started rolling my erect nipples through her fingers I lost it, buckling from the extreme pleasure it caused me. She hugged me then, saying, “I love your baps, I wish mine were smaller.”

I was pretty sure she had complimented my breasts. It reminded me how much I wanted to see hers again. I pushed her away and got busy getting her shirt open. Once those beautiful globes were uncovered I found myself hypnotized; amazed at their perfection. They had to be more than twice the size of mine, and had most of their roundness in their drooping lower part. My hands came up of their own volition and cupped them; lifting, testing their fullness. I bent to take an erect nipple in my mouth, sucking it gently, teasing its length with my tongue. Moving from one to the other, I worshiped her ripe melons. “Oh my,” she said, “I love how you pleasure my tits. You’ve got me all randy.” She gently disengaged me from my task, got up and pulled me with her. “Lets go jump in the sack.”

I was more than ready. So urgent was my need that the only thing I could say was, “My bag.” She looked questioningly at me. “There’s more room for us in our area,” I was able to finally explain. Lauren nodded and gave me a big smile. I eagerly led her to our suspended rain tarp. Once there she turned toward the campfire, struck an aggressive pose, and stated, in a voice that brooked no dissent, “You gents stay put.”

I was relieved, the prospect of an audience somehow chilled me. We crawled under the covering to the quilted surface of the bags, then lay on our sides, facing each other. “Jade,” she quietly said, “you’re mint,” then reached over and gently caressed my hair. The flickering light of the fire allowed me to see the desire plainly etched on her face. Now that we were alone; that it was finally going to happen, I started questioning myself. “I’m scared.” was all I said in reply. She took me in her arms and gently drew me to her bosom; the beating of her heart calmed me, even as mine felt out of control. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered.

After a few minutes she released me, intent on making eye contact again. “We’ve already had our slap and tickle in front of the boys. Slow goes it now, I’m thinking.” Her no-nonsense attitude lulled me. “Let’s start by losing our knickers. We’ll do each other.” With that she unsnapped, unzipped, and pulled until I lay exposed before her. “Now me,” she said. I hesitated at first, but got more assertive as her shorts slid down her long, shapely legs. “I want to eat you up,” I whispered to her, surprising myself at the boldness of my statement. I rained kisses on her tummy and thighs as I pulled her panties off. “My, you’re saucy,” she laughed, then reached for me.

This time it was me who resisted. My mind rebelled at the thought of letting this new sexual experience be like all the others I’d had. Yielding to the desires of another, being the passive one was what I always did…until now. “No, Lauren,” I said, in a weak but determined voice, “I want to be the man.” I pushed her down flat on the ground, then crawled on top of her until one of my hanging tits was suspended above her mouth. “Suck it,” I demanded roughly. She reached up the few inches necessary and attached her mouth to my teat, drawing it in deeply, until her lips covered my areola and more. I felt a suction on my sensitive skin and began to jerk erratically as she used her hardened tongue to buffet my nipple. “Oh, God,” I moaned as I focused on remaining suspended above her on all fours. Electric bolts shot from my tit, spreading throughout my body. My pussy quivered, wanting to be touched too. “Finger my pussy,” I cried, “fuck me.” She quickly complied; thrusting her fingers inside me repeatedly until I almost screamed. Then she found my sensitive G-spot, curled a single digit against it, and began stroking lightly. Her other hand cupped my remaining boob; finding the engorged nipple, then began pinching it really hard. The feeling was so intense I collapsed on her as my orgasm hit me. She wrapped one arm around my waist, even as she continued to work her fingers in my vagina, then flipped me over on my back as easily as if I were a rag doll. Now she was in control, finding my mouth and forcing her tongue inside while she ground her clit against my thigh. Breaking contact with my lips she taunted me, “You minx, you sexy little tart. Let’s see how you like my quim.” With that she twisted around and slid down my body until her head was between my thighs. Her knees framed my face and I found myself looking at her engorged labia, the moistness within almost dripping down on me. “Eat me,” she demanded, even as she pulled aside the skin covering my clit and began to rapidly stimulate it with the tip of her tongue.

I was beset with a thousand sensations at once and my brain couldn’t decide what to make of them. Even as my next orgasm approached I began to do what she had commanded. I reached up and placed the flat of my tongue on her glistening inner lips then moved my head up and down, finally forcing the entire length of my tongue into her waiting hole. When she wrapped her lips around my clit and sucked on it, I did the same to her much longer one. It became a dance neither of us wanted to end. I got lightheaded from the waves of sexual energy going out through my limbs, barely able to control myself.

All too soon it was over. After our ecstasy had past, we lay exhausted, side by side, our chests heaving from exertion. I had almost succumbed to sleep when I realized I hadn’t paid any attention to her breasts. “Lauren,” I said, propping myself on my elbow so I could see her better, “I know we’re finished but I haven’t played with your boobs. They’re all I’ve been thinking about since I first saw you.” “Um,” she said, arousing herself from her own near-stupor, “I liked what you did when we first started. Let’s do that.”

In just a second I was flat on my back looking up at her long, extended nipples. She lowered herself until I was able to suckle and kneed them to my heart’s content. It had an effect on both of us. While I was happy to savor her hanging globes, after awhile she seemed to need more. Without warning she raised up and straddled my face, then lowered her pussy for me to lick. I did my best to please her. Her breathing became ragged and she started to saw back and forth on my tongue. I reached up to cup her swinging breasts, pinching the nipples hard. Suddenly she called out, apparently to the men still around the fire, “Look at what she’s doing to me, you gawpers. I’m on fire! Your puny little knobs wouldn’t even light me up.” I felt her squirm above me and heard her groan. Suddenly she grabbed my head, holding it tightly as she moved her hips over my extended tongue, climaxing noisily on my face.

This time there wasn’t an effort to continue as we let the euphoria of our multiple orgasms dissipate. After a few luscious minutes lightly caressing her I felt her lips gently touch mine. “I’ve got to go, my love,” she crooned softly, “duty calls.” With that she left me. I watched as she entered into the glow of the firelight, her pendulous breasts swaying with each step. She stopped in front of her boss, held out her hand and said, “I’m randy enough now to keep my promise. We’ll not shag but you can bugger me if you want. Will that satisfy you?” Logan looked up at her, an awestruck look on his face. He didn’t speak for a moment, then tried to put together a response but couldn’t get out a coherent reply. Finally he just stammered, “Yes.” Even at that she still had to pull him up; he seemed overwhelmed by what had been offered him. “I’ll make it good for you,” I heard her promise as they disappeared into his tent.

[Chrislydi]

Even the small touches and sensations were minuted and described, the imperceptible tidal wave of emotions, the tingling as they tentatively started to feel each other, almost sparring in preparation for the real thing, the build up intensifying and the excitement reaching new heights, then wave upon wave signalling a new heaven on earth, an untapped new source of ecstacy, this is eroticism on steroids.

To identify as Jade as she tried to assert herself, to be the male for once and try to boss Lauren, showed a newly confident woman, fully aware of her own body and the effect it has on others, intent on exploring new areas of eroticism and sensuality, and only the whispered 'i'm scared' gives the slightest hint of her still vulnerable inner core. Overall though she's now the confident well rounded woman who's newly confident of the broad spectrum of her sexuality, knows what she wants and is prepared to take it as well as submit.

Lauren, that all knowing little mischievous minx, let's her have her head for now before quickly turning the tables and showing her who's really the teacher and who's still very much the pupil. Lauren will take Jade's education on a step or three further before she's finished, she's a marvellously straight talking madam who won't brook any argument, yet always with that innate awareness of saying the right thing at precisely the right time.

Brilliantly erotic writing - I bet 'Jade' helped

Chris
.
(I couldn't wait as I intended, and have still got all the gardening work to do - a national holiday, and I'm consigned to sitting on a lawnmower with the ear muffs on ,- I'd rather go to work, i hate gardening )

[BDJ]

Within a few minutes my lovers had joined me under the tarp. I remained languid as they quickly stripped, expecting me to eagerly have a go with them too, but my bout with Lauren had been enough to satisfy me for the night. “I don’t want to,” I said as their hands began to caress me. “Leave me alone,” I added, determined to savor the feel of her touch while it remained vivid in my memory. That stopped them and they remained still as we lay together, each caught up in our own thoughts. Soon noises began to come from Logan’s tent; easy to hear since it was within ten feet of our bags. Soft sounds of praise from Lauren were punctuated with groans from Logan. I think we had a collective vision of her bending over his groin, ginger hair framing her mouth; now full of his cock, her tongue extended, lapping at the soft skin of his scrotum. Then a sharp intake of breath, a warning of what was to come. “Not yet,” she admonished, “Your end piece is too sensitive for your own good. I’m quite enjoying myself, I’m surprised to say. Here, suck my tits.” Our ears strained for any new sound after that, but minutes passed before we heard soft whispers of encouragement; evidence Logan was being effective at his task. We could almost hear her labored breathing; most certainly heard her urge him to stroke her clit, to put his fingers in her womanhood. Silence prevailed, an interminable void: we, holding our breath, waiting. Finally came a series of moans, increasing in intensity until they peaked in a long sigh. Then her voice gently praising him, “Oh, you sweet little man.”

I realized at that moment I had forgotten about the needs of the two men at my side. Getting on my knees I positioned myself so my ass was facing them but also giving me free access to their hard cocks. Then, as we silently listened, I began to play my own ode to joy on their straining cocks, alternating from one to the other: my men, taking the hint I had given them, began fingering my asshole and pussy. Only indistinct night sounds prevailed for awhile, if you discount the involuntary sounds occasionally coming from the men. Then, “Uggggh!!!” from Logan. After a long moment Lauren responded, “That was quite a lot to swallow, love. Rest now. Time enough for more later.”

The mental imagery of Logan’s climax must have been too much for my lovers because Walker ejaculated in my mouth soon after. I quickly switched to sucking Stew and he, too, came in only a minute. I turned to lay between them, then kissed them both, using plenty of tongue.

Sleep did not come as easily for me as it did for my bedmates. The moon was low in the sky when I heard rustlings resume from Logan’s tent, followed by Lauren’s quiet instructions. “If you lick me back there and use plenty of spit I think it will be enough. That lovely foreskin will help ease any discomfort too.” I could only imagine Logan’s tongue worshiping her pink button, something I hadn’t done during my time with her. Soon I heard her say, “Easy now, let me get used to it,” followed in a moment by, “Now harder. Hold my waist, yes, that’s it!!!” The distinct sounds of flesh striking flesh filled the night. I couldn’t believe neither of my lovers woke, as the volume seemed to increase as Logan sped up his assault. I fingered my pussy, turned-on as much by my imagination as by Lauren’s response to having her ass fucked so hard. Memories of Jeff, Stew, and Walker doing the same drove me to a noisy release. Then Lauren cried out, “Now, now!, Fill me up!” His thrusts became a merciless staccato rhythm as his pelvis punished her buttocks. A long, “Argggh!” announced his own contribution to her continued orgasmic wail. Later I heard the sounds of laughter as the two of them frolicked in the river. Finally I was able to let sleep come for me.

No one wanted to get up the next morning but the sun and our need to get out of the gorge drove us into action. Soon breakfast was finished and backpacks were ready for the long hike back to civilization. No Tolkien banter traveled with us as each person kept to his or her own thoughts. I was selfish, though, making sure I was always directly behind Lauren as we hiked or beside her during breaks: I tried to drink in enough of her essence to last me a lifetime. Finally, the two of us had a tearful goodbye as we stood at the trailhead. I knew I would probably never see her again.

Leaving Lauren made me melancholy for the rest on the afternoon. Then Stew had to say goodbye right after supper. He needed to prepare a piece of furniture for delivery early the next day and was going to sleep over at his boss’s house. That left me, Walker, and the ever-shy Chet together for the evening. I caught him wistfully staring at me several times; no doubt thinking of our episode in the kitchen or of hearing me repeatedly scream in orgasm that first night. Our bedtime routine involved a juggle around the small bathroom, as all of us needed to shower and the water heater was not up to the task. But, in time, Walker and I were on our pallet in Stew’s room, talking over the events of the weekend.

Walker was stoked; the memory of hearing me with Lauren coupled with being denied access to my pussy afterward left him eager to use me. But I was in an uncharacteristically mellow mood, quiescent even, as the events of the week had more than adequately satisfied my needs. I didn’t exactly push my husband away but I wasn’t very encouraging either. And I felt distracted; my thoughts kept returning to someone else…Chet.

“Walker,” I said as I gently extracted his hand from between my legs. He raised up from sucking my nipple to focus on what was to come next. “I’m worried about Chet.” “Let him listen,” he replied, misinterpreting my intent. “No, it’s not that,” I countered, “I feel for him. He’s so shy and inexperienced. Stew said the blow-job I gave him was probably his first. I don’t think he knows anything about sex.” To give him credit, my mate didn’t immediately discount my concerns. Humm was all he said. I could almost hear him pondering the implications of my words, “What do you propose?” was his eventual response. “I want to teach him,” my tone trying to counter the disappointment I heard in his voice. “I don’t want him to be like us when we met.” The ensuing silence seemed to go on forever. Finally a deep sigh broke the stillness as he replied, “Go to him then, I’ll wait.”

It didn’t turn out to be as simple as that. While I intuitively understood that coaching him in how to make love involved more than just letting him use my vagina, I didn’t think he would be receptive if I just blurted that out; I thought he’d withdraw if I were too forward. And he needed to appreciate the role foreplay had in getting his lady-love ready. To accomplish all that I had to be approachable, yet alluring. I thought about what I had on hand and decided to wear my smallest pair of panties and one of Stew’s white dress shirts; unbuttoned to my waist and sleeves partially rolled up. Hopefully I wouldn’t scare him off; leaving him open to my instructions on how to put his hands under my clothes. I tied my hair back with a colorful scarf instead of a plain scrunchie. Now I was ready.

Because the little house heated up during the day every window and interior door remained open at night to maximize cooling. As I approached Chet’s bedroom I gave a thought to my accepting husband and how I could pay him back for being on board with this: the open doors would allow him to hear just about everything. I took a deep breath before moving into a room lit solely by an old-fashioned reading light attached to the bed’s tall headboard. He looked up immediately from his book and gasped, “Mam?” His use of that polite term perturbed me. I sighed, suddenly aware of the magnitude of my task. “Chet,” I responded softly, “please call me Jade,” My stomach was playing flips as I made my way toward him. “Can I join you?” I said as I stood by him. He put his book down and I felt him focus on my erect nipples, almost painfully poking into the t-shirt’s fabric. The bedsheet started to rise and he put a hand on his lap, trying to cover his emerging erection. “I’m not decent,” he said shakily.

I sat on the mattress and turned my torso toward him, gently removed his concealing hand, then continued to hold it. “You’re fine,” I replied, “don’t feel embarrassed that you’re reacting like most men would. In fact, that’s why I’m here.” I paused, making sure he was looking at my face. “I used to be shy like you and, believe it or not, so was Walker.” I continued, but then, trying to lighten things up some, smiled as I added, “I don’t think Stew ever was.” That got a positive reaction and I could tell he was starting to relax a little. “I want to help you with your shyness around girls, teach you how to know if they’re interested in you. You haven’t been, you know, with a women yet, have you?” I probed gently. He blushed, then admitted, “No, ma…Jade.” I could see the struggle within him as he sought to explain. “Being around a pretty lady gets me all tongue-tied, and I can’t think right.” “Do you think I’m attractive?” I responded. He lowered his head, unable to look at me before nodding yes. “You’re talking normally to me now, aren’t you?” I queried. Again he nodded, but looked over at me, puzzled. “If you’ll let me I think I can teach you how to relax around girls, even how to go further. How about it?” I said as I squeezed his hand. A look of relief flooded his face. “Could you?” was all he said.

And so we began. I pulled the sheet aside and settled in beside him. It started with a kiss and lasted until the wee hours of the morning. He proved to be an apt student as I taught him how to neck and use his hands to arouse me. I knew he’d ejaculate the moment he put his cock in either my mouth or pussy, so we worked on pausing for a minute when he got overstimulated and, when that didn’t help, to squeeze the head of his penis until the sensation passed. Still, I swallowed two mouthfuls of cum before we could get to the lesson on my oral gratification. But it was worth it. We were both so pleased when his tongue and fingers put me over the top. After a discussion on why it had happened I had him do it again. That time it was even better.

Chet, like Walker when we married, didn’t seem to know the first thing about how to use his cock in my wet pussy. Teaching him how to thrust, to take cues from watching my face and how my body responded, when to withdraw and use his tongue again, took a lot of practice. Maybe I was being greedy, but after he got the hang of it I became increasingly eager to continue my instruction: his warm cock felt so good filling me. And, as I hoped, he became more confident in himself the more he used it. To Chet, seeing me spasm in ecstasy was like being given an aphrodisiac: it spurred him to try and make it happen again. I stopped counting all the orgasms his tongue and stiff dick caused. Some mild but satisfying, a few really intense, causing me to call out his name in my rapture. The afterglow when we cuddled before beginning again just deepened my desire for him, and I could tell, his need to continue. When we were finally done I realized the teacher had been taught: this shy young man had touched my heart.

Despite the coolness of the night we had worked up a good sweat so we decided to shower together before returning to our separate beds. He got playful under the warm spray and I responded in kind. Unexpectedly, it re-ignited our passion. I was surprised and pleased when a newly confident Chet bent me over, forced his rigid cock in my over-worked pussy, then gave me the hardest fucking I’d had all night. By the time I crawled into our bag; tired but content, I didn’t want anymore loving, so I was careful not to wake my sleeping husband. I was startled when I looked at the bedside clock; Chet and I had been at it for almost five hours.

I woke when the sun began to peep through the bedroom’s window. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to take Walker in my vagina I wanted to reward him for being so patient with me. He loved being awakened having me on top of him, humping his stiff cock as it lay trapped between our bodies, so that’s what I did. I was well on my way to climaxing again when he opened his eyes, so I just continued to use him until my release was complete.

I kissed him after I caught my breath, then said, “Good morning, sleepyhead.” I scooted down to his hard cock and sucked him lovingly until he filled my mouth. It only took a minute, confirming what I had assumed: it had excited him hearing me with Chet. I relaxed, happy he was OK, then moved to settle into his warm embrace. As I lay with my head on his broad chest, listening to the beat of his heart, I pondered our future. I realized now that nothing regarding sex should be taken for granted or dismissed out of hand. I trusted Walker to be a steady voice in helping me cope: the exciting sex I had been having, and, perversely, the uncertainty of how all that would play out in the years to come; I could deal with that if he were by my side. But of one thing I was dead certain: I wanted to be a sculptor and make my mark in the art world. As long as I had Walker, I was sure I could do it.

[BDJ]

This is the end of the first chapter. Jade is getting older...and affected by her experiences. Any ideas on how to proceed?

[Chrislydi]

'As I lay with my head on his broad chest, listening to the beat of his heart, I pondered our future. I realized now that nothing regarding sex should be taken for granted or dismissed out of hand. I trusted Walker to be a steady voice in helping me cope: the exciting sex I had been having, and, perversely, the uncertainty of how all that would play out in the years to come; I could deal with that if he were by my side. But of one thing I was dead certain: I wanted to be a sculptor and make my mark in the art world. As long as I had Walker, I was sure I could do it.'

There are many kinds of apprenticeships in life not just the more mundane and obvious, they're time and effort served towards a greater goal, one where you've attained an ability to not only perform but to teach and spread the knowledge. In a way we can see parallels with both young Chet and Jade herself, each striving for the next level. Chet is the pupil here, his aim to learn how to please and satisfy a woman, taking the first baby steps and then strides on the way to becoming an accomplished practitioner, to be confident about his own attributes and abilities and to know he has what it takes. While Jade is the teacher, she is also completing the final steps in a long learning curve. Her education began, or rather stumblingly false started, when Walker and herself had to learn from scratch, neither experienced enough to fully unlock the broad gamut of sensory pleasures available, practice and repeat often makes perfect or at least a lot better, but Jade wasnt really physically fully satisfied until fully supported and encouraged by Walker, she experimented and learnt far more from others, the Jeff's, Stews and Laurens showed her what it could be like, new boundaries were crossed and old mores discarded, her new path had been highlighted and she was now taking those steps confidently and with purpose.

The pupil had turned teacher but more than that she knew how to impart the knowledge and to tailor it to the levels needed, Chet was a quick learner because he had Jade, it was as much a compliment to the teacher as the pupil that Chet looks to have turned a significant corner, a boy becoming a man as the newly assertive and confident Jade becomes the complete woman.

Brilliantly written and so evocative of a time, place and memories so obviously imprinted on the memory forever.

Chris

[Johng1953]

This is the end of the first chapter. Jade is getting older...and affected by her experiences. Any ideas on how to proceed?

I think you are doing an amazing job. The only suggestion I have is to keep on exploring the emotional side of how your characters react to what happens. You do that so well.

And it is far from tedious, for me it's one of the best stories on here and the format works for me too.

[Chrislydi]

This is the end of the first chapter. Jade is getting older...and affected by her experiences. Any ideas on how to proceed?

You've got most things right so far, it's just an exceptionally well told story that has everything. Primarily for me it's about Jade, it's her adventures supported by her loyal and loving husband Walker who she's so deeply in love with. It's Walker who has been by her side encouraging her to explore and experience all that she's entitled to as a truly sexually fulfilled woman, and now Jade has that experience and self confidence to go further, to take the initiative and guide both to new levels. Jade may now be more the one who drives things forward and lights up the path ahead. Whether that's with some of her old lovers, Stew if he's not too committed elsewhere, as is bound to happen, or maybe new ones entirely.

Has she a particular type? Is it more on character, looks or cocksize/width or just variety, and what about Lauren has she given her the taste for something similar? Whatever you decide, wherever she goes and whatever she does Jade will attract a whole host of admirers of both sexes, it's now her choice as she knows Walker is right by her side and fully supportive, he wants her to have it too.

Chris

[BDJ]

Thank you both.
Johng1953,
I began writing, like Chris, as a part of my professional duties. Luckily I was in education and had a wonderful female friend who gently reeducated me toward a more readable prose. Then in the pursuit of my master's degree I wrote historically themed short stories taken from my archaeological research notes. To imbue those dry figures with life I hit upon the technique of using snippets of time and place, and using sounds (bed springs or mourning doves in the distance) to break the action or enhance the mood. I've taken John Jasson's advice to heart about Jade: tell her story through her emotional state. But to do it here I feel the need to surround those thoughts with hot sex. I also let the story take me along, guiding me to its logical conclusion. I hope you enjoy my future chapters as much as this one.
Chris,
Jade is deeply honored at the depths of your praise. Don't be surprised if she reaches out to you in the future.

[Chrislydi]

Chris,
Jade is deeply honored at the depths of your praise. Don't be surprised if she reaches out to you in the future.

.
Words come quite easily when describing such an alluring vision of sensuous loveliness, but it's as much her character development as anything physical that captures my interest, the way she has grown through her experiences, while still keeping that underlying vulnerability that so entices. She's never lost that mischievous playfulness, the first meeting in the kitchen with Chet, that little glint in her eye as Chet realises he's just won the lottery of life, an experienced stunner introducing him to the sensual pleasures of oral sex, his first real sexual experience. After these early years, the first chapter, Jade, once the little innocent debutant has progressed onto the big stage and is now in the lead role, she's ready to go forward, always hand in hand together with her supportive and beloved Walker, both looking ahead to new experiences, new excitement and crossing new bridges.

I'm honoured to read her history especially when it's being told so eloquently and with such feeling.

Chris

[BDJ]

Chapter 2

The Installation

“Uh, Jade?” Walker’s voice came from far away. I had been daydreaming, lulled by the sound of tires humming on the road’s surface. Long trips always made me either bored, sleepy, or both. Thankfully we were almost there, already on the outskirts of the city; streetlights forming a pathway, I hoped, toward the heart of Nashville and our hotel. “What?” I said, looking over at the shadowed form slightly hunched over the steering wheel of the big truck. “I need to ask you a favor,” he said.

“O.K.,” I replied, relieved we weren’t getting into any serious discussions. I loved my husband but sometimes he could be so intense. So I waited for him to continue…and waited. “Walker,” I said. “You wanted a favor?” Finally he replied, “I’ve been worried about you, Jade. I know how much this commission means to you and now that we’re delivering the baby…” I cut him off right then. “Walker, my love, my husband, my rock,” I said, “lighten up.” That was our code indicating he was getting into dangerous territory. My sculpture was my baby all right; my life for the better part of a year. I didn’t want him using it as a lever to get me to do something I already knew I had no intention of doing. “You’re stressed and need to lighten up yourself,” he replied. “And it’s been affecting us, you know, sexually.” That was it, I realized, our sex, or lack of it. Not straight fucking, but the kind Walker had started requesting after we quit swinging; of using details from those casual liaisons as a bedroom stimulus. The stories must be getting stale by now. That must be what’s bothering him.

I turned from him and stared out the window and focused on the streetlights marching by. I got it that he was both horny and frustrated by the lack of sex. “I know you wanted me to continue swinging after I got the commission,” I said, “but placing a sculpture in one of their downtown parks could lead to more requests for my work. And Walker, you know I want more.” Turning my words against me, he replied, “You need to think about more than just another order. I want, no need, more too, Jade.”

The lights bordering the highway brightened and dimmed and we passed through each cone of light, much like my memory of the past ten years. Sex. Why was it so important when there were so many other things that were equally interesting? But men thought differently than women, I had long ago concluded. At the most inopportune times Walker would put his hands on me and make a comment that had a sexual overtone. I had a standard response; every ninety seconds, I’d intone, it’s on your mind every ninety seconds.

It wasn’t as if we never had sex or that I didn’t want it too sometimes. Memories of losing control with Stew and Jeff, even Lauren, would pop up unexpectedly, making me flush with desire and, sometimes, regret. Walker had once explained feeling that way after letting myself go was just a residual emotional response left over from my strict, fundamentalist upbringing. I couldn’t argue; his job, after all, was to think, and since he’d become a professor at the state college in the mountain town where we’d settled, I’d come to the conclusion it came first for him. Except sex; the thought of which seemed to consume him at times, and then he focused it almost entirely on me.

Seven more miles, that’s how far to downtown, the sign had just declared. How could any city be that big, I wondered? I propped my head up against the side window, descending again into thoughts of a convoluted past.

Things changed for us after that trip into the wilds of the gorge. I finally faced up to my need for what Stew, and to a lesser extent Lauren, had given me: that’s why I was open to the idea of swinging when Walker proposed it. It seemed a safe way for us to continue to explore. I guess it helped that I couldn’t have children: a botched IUD, followed eventually with a hysterectomy, insured that. A hatred for the feel of latex led me to always want a bare cock inside me. Then there was the randomness of our success when pairing with others. At first, Walker got all excited about trying someone new and, oddly, I wasn’t jealous when it happened. But, as our attendance at the parties grew, I noticed he focused more on seeing me interact with men, not getting some strange pussy himself. A couple of times he even lost his erection when a particularly aggressive woman used him.

I found that I, too, had changed the more I experimented with others. Being watched, either on the dance floor or back in the room, aroused me. It did Walker, too. Often that was the only thing that enabled me to orgasm, knowing my husband was getting off on me acting slutty. But I grew to want a more disturbing turn-on, at least from Walker’s viewpoint. It was the excitement I got when I could get him close to another man’s cock. I found myself encouraging him to lick my ass when I was on top, fucking a strange man. It triggered my orgasm every time.

As gratifying as those times had been, ultimately it wasn’t enough. As the years passed the only thing that kept me going back was the trade-off I negotiated with Walker so I could keep seeing Stew. We would take the three hour trip over the mountains every three months or so. That’s how long I’d last until I needed him inside me again. Unfortunately, I often didn’t get the mind-blowing orgasms I’d craved; the opportunities and time available shrunk considerably after he’d married. Over time I had fallen in love with him anyway…or maybe I always had been but it took me that long to realize it. I blamed serendipity. Walker and Stew had been together when they first spied me in the college’s sculpture studio. I was so caught up in my work I didn’t see either of them. Later, I met Walker before Stew and that was all it took. It was probably for the best; Stew was a handful then even on his quiet days.

My mind snapped back to the present when we hit a particularly nasty pot hole. The request made sense now. “It’s about being in a big, impersonal city for an extended time, isn’t it? You want to play the game again.” My memory went back years ago, to a bar in Charleston, South Carolina. “Nobody’s going to pick up a thirty-four year old when every honky-tonk is flooded with young things on the prowl.” “I don’t want that,” he replied, “I’d just like to see you flirt again—to vamp it up when we’re on the town.” “I get it.” I replied, “But no can do. I’m tired. Anyway, I didn’t bring any party clothes, so there.” “Yes you did,” he said smugly, “because I packed them in my luggage.” He paused for a long minute, then added, “Even the tennis outfit.”

I snapped my head back toward him. “Why that one?” I asked sharply, “I haven’t worn it since I was 21 and it probably won’t fit me anyway.” “Yes, it will,” he countered, “you still weigh a hundred pounds, and physically, you’re in even better shape than you were then. And it’s included because you bought it to flirt in, even though you told me you only wore it once.” I didn’t know how to counter him. That dress was special in ways Walker knew nothing about. I was wearing it one day during my “flirt training” after Walker had gone on an extended trip. A teasing effort had gotten out of hand and I’d had been severely used by a stranger. I’d kept it to remind me to always have Walker near when I got sex crazy. Anyway, when was the last time I had been asked to play tennis?

We pulled up to a stoplight and I could see Walker’s face clearly. He seemed fearful of my response, knowing I didn’t want to accommodate him. All that was past and done, I thought, better to leave it that way. But another memory jiggered itself into my consciousness. I had been hesitant at Stew’s house before the gorge trip. Walker had urged me to give in to my unconscious longings. It had been what I needed. My voice was soft when I finally replied to him, “Walker, I’ll try,” then immediately thought, what am I getting myself into?

East Park was a tiny thing in the heart of downtown, not much more than a parking lot with some large old oaks between it and the street. The arts council had instructed us to leave the truck there and a volunteer would take us to the hotel. Like its location in the center of downtown, our lodging was old and dignified. As we were taking the elevator to our room I thought of what Walker had requested of me, realizing it might be hard if we were known as husband and wife. “Walker, have you thought this through? I asked. “People will know we’re married and l’d die of embarrassment.” Walker just smiled and said, “I’ve got a plan.” We walked down a hallway that was almost as stately as the lobby had been. I was quiet after my husband’s statement, knowing from experience that he had to reveal its meaning in his own way.

I didn’t expect what I saw when he opened the door to our room. The place looked like something from the movie Gone With the Wind. A tall ceiling and windows highlighted an oversized four-poster bed. Walker smiled at me, happy to see my reaction. “I asked for the family suite,” he said as he walked to an open door on an adjacent wall. “Look, it’s a separate bedroom for children.” I didn’t get it and told him so. “It’s simple,” he replied, “I’m not going to be your husband, but your assistant who you fuck. If you get lucky I’ll sleep in this room and you get the bed to play on with your lover.” “O.K. that’s good if it happens but…” I let his explanation sink in. He was going to be peeking in from the other room while I had sex. It was his biggest turn-on. “It might work, except how are you going to watch like you did in the bar?” I asked. “Simple,” he said, “we’re occasional lovers, right, but not serious. I can watch all I want.” The smug look on his face told me he had put a lot of thought into it. “Maybe so, mister voyeur, but right now you’re going to gaze longingly at me taking a shower…but not before you’ve ordered from room service.” I took him in my arms, kissed him passionately, then continued, “Then we’re going to bed…together. After that you’re going be too worn out to want anything else for awhile.”

The next day, as we prepared to install my piece, we discovered the other sculpture was already in place. It would have been nice to have met the artist since we had collaborated on the two sculptures; meant to be viewed together in a natural setting under the trees. My work was of a young woman sitting on a park bench reading sheet music. His was a similarly aged boy with a guitar hanging down his back, looking longingly at her. As Walker and I stood admiring the finished installation he quipped, “Wouldn’t it be neat if the creator of that boy looked at you like that.” I replied, “You wish,” but I did wonder if such an attraction was possible.

[Chrislydi]

".....Turning my words against me, he replied, “You need to think about more than just another order. I want, no need, more too, Jade.”

...and we're back, time may have moved on, this is our new worldly Jade with a far more mature outlook on both her work, sex life and expectations. She's devoted to her profession, and is now taking that huge step forward, her first public sculptore no less, what an achievement and what a mark she could make. Then there's Walker the man she loves so deeply, her rock, her support and life long companion, you recognise their mutual understanding, they really are forever emotionally connected and always thinking of the others needs and desires, caring for each others well being even above their own.

Those highlights of their swinging years offered a glimpse of just how Jade has largely shed her inhibitions, those strict rules she grew up with, allowing herself more freedom to experiment and search out the less conventional, the more exciting and erotic kinks, to be more open and true to herself. Stew may have largely exited the scene, but he's played his part in producing the assertive confident Jade, a Jade who still wants to help Walker fulfill his desires, she's prepared to go further and then some for Walker, she'll go above and beyond in her continuing effort to please him and satisfy his wishes too. Walker's done his homework the family room booked, the perfect location for the ideal tryst, what more needs adding? There was just a hint wasn't there, could her fellow co-sculptor be around somewhere, and might he be the final piece of the jigsaw?

Once again it's been quite brilliantly related for us by BDJ, and in the best traditions of a writer right at the top of his game, he's taken us right back alongside our couple to witness their preparations and made us as nervous and anxious to see what happens next, breathtaking stuff.

Chris

[BDJ]

“How did you get a name like Stretch,” Walker asked. We were at the reception following the dedication ceremony before we finally met the other artist. I thought it was a valid question as the man before us was less than half a foot taller than me, and that’s short since I’m only five-foot-three. He made up for it by being built like a barrel; all chest and what looked like a lot of muscle. He laughed, then responded in a rich, sexy baritone, “I got it in high school and it just stuck.” I countered, “Well, it couldn’t have been from your basketball moves. Wrestling?” “No, though I was on a variety of teams; that, as you’d expect with my build, but I also competed in track with shot put, and dabbled in tennis.” he responded. That last sport struck a chord. I blushed, thinking of the dress Walker had packed. I tried to cover my obvious embarrassment by quickly responding, “Stretch then, from your reach?” He gave me an enigmatic smile, then replied, “Maybe…a couple of my girlfriends started it. I never knew why.” My pussy fluttered, a reaction that was entirely unexpected. If ever there was a man totally unlike the ones I had always been attracted to, it would be him. “And you two,” he added, “you together?”

I answered first, wanting to establish dominance, “He’s married to a suspicious woman,” I said with a haughty grin, “who is clueless.” I looked up at Walker and smiled, “But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, will it buddy?” I was gratified to see he was nonplussed. I continued, deadpan, “My situation’s worse, I’m married to my work…don’t have a clue about anything else.” Then I added, to see if he would take the bait, “Walker even had to choose my outfit.” Stretch gave me an appraising look, taking in my attire. I was dressed in a tan double breasted pantsuit with a pale pink mock lace neck top beneath. I thought it showed off my complexion, which hinted at my Native American heritage. My black hair was up in a modified bun. I knew he thought I looked hot when he said, “Great taste in clothes, Walker…and women.”

We stayed, talking, for the rest of the reception. At its end I asked him to join us for dinner at the hotel restaurant, trying not to show my eagerness to keep him in my company a little longer. “Do you like to dance, Stretch?” I asked, “Our hotel is supposed to have a decent lounge.” He quickly replied, “Once I get sufficiently primed, I can do almost anything,” then smiled and turned to Walker and said, “We’ll take turns with her.” When I worked out his double entendre I smiled and hit him on the arm to show I got it. Then my husband set me up for the evening, “Not me,” he said, pointing downward,“two left feet.” “Good,” Stretch replied, “I’ll have her all to myself.” I stood between them, listening to this exchange between such a virile man and my husband. Butterflies began to flutter in my vagina.

"He likes you,” I heard Walker say from across the room. I was busy putting my earrings in and was distracted. “Don’t all men?” I teased back. Suddenly he was behind me, nuzzling my neck, his hands cupping my breasts. “It was such a turn on this afternoon,” he said, “seeing you flirt with him. Don’t you want to find out why he’s called Stretch?” Having finished getting the last post secured behind my ear, I was free to turn and embrace him. I reached down and felt a rapidly growing bulge in his dress pants. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I teased. Then I looked up at him, my expression serious. “But it might not happen. Walker, you’ve got to be prepared for that.” “At least you’re dressed for it.” he replied, as he undid a button on the tight white silk blouse I was wearing. It was tucked into a pair of burgundy wide-leg, high-waisted trousers that fit tightly around my ass. A pale pink sheer, lacy, low-cut bra with matching bikini panties completed the outfit. Walker had packed well, I thought as I looked in the mirror; even remembering my razor, so when whoever got to peek down there saw a smooth, hairless pussy. I had chosen to leave my waist-length hair down, secured with a long multi-colored silk scarf, the knot tied to one side, allowing it and my hair to hang down on one side of my chest. I thought it gave me a gypsy look. “Come on, lover,” I said, “Let’s go see if I’ve still got it.”

Dinner conversation gave me a chance to find out more about Stretch. I discovered he was a local boy who, predictably, loved all kinds of country music. He lived right outside of town, on his mother’s farm. Most importantly, he was a confirmed bachelor. I had quickly fallen in love with his voice from his first words and my pussy had responded by doing all sorts of vrooms while he talked. Then it was time to dance.

Expecting to perform for Walker, Stretch, and maybe anybody else who might be interested, I had been drinking the wine served at dinner with a purpose. I wanted to be tipsy; lightheaded enough not to tense up if a strange hand landed on my ass or reject an unexpected kiss while a slow song lulled me into…wherever mentally I needed to be. The music didn’t excite me as it was stuff selected by a DJ. Some of the fast songs were danceable, but for my purpose I wanted him to play a lot of slow ones.

It wasn’t Stretch who got to do the honors though. He had to call home, something about a cow in labor. The guy to sweep me off my feet was a well dressed businessman from New York…handsome too. Tom was a smooth dancer and even better flatterer. He wasn’t as tall as Walker so I didn’t have to look far to see his face, and he held me just close enough so I felt his well-toned body. I liked it and I found myself melting further into his arms. About a third of the way through the second dance his hand started drifting downward while the other one stayed comfortably holding mine. Then I felt a slight pressure on my butt, pulling my body closer to his. As we made contact I felt a bulge arching up from his groin. “Um,” I said.

I stopped dancing and looked at him, a question mark on my face. “Too soon?” he asked quietly. “I just wasn’t expecting it,” I lied. He pressed me against him a little more firmly. “Like?” he asked. “I’m with someone else right now,” I said, trying to add a note of regret to my voice. “Him?” he replied, nodding his head toward where Walker was sitting. “No, he’s a long-time friend, my date had to make a phone call,” I tried to sound nonchalant. Stretch joined Walker at that moment and I pointed him out. “That one,” I said. The song conveniently ended soon after. He bent to kiss my cheek and whispered in my ear, “Perhaps later?” then returned me to our table. My pussy was decidedly wet.

Stretch had noticed the gesture of intimacy. “A new boyfriend?” he said. I blushed and replied, “No, just someone who’s a very good dancer.” He didn’t push it but made sure when the next slow song came on I was in his arms. Everything stayed on the up and up, though, and he kept a proper distance from me. I thoroughly enjoyed being in his arms, but I wanted him to act like more like Tom. That smooth operator had primed my pussy and I wanted something in it. But afterwards he and Walker got into guy talk so, when a fast song came on, I grabbed a young man standing at the edge of the dance floor and took out my frustrations on him. I think he got excited when I backed up against him and started grinding into his pelvis, because he grabbed my hips and started bumping against me in time with the music. I liked that, a lot, and tried to show it. Again Stretch questioned me when I returned to the table. “I’d love to do that with you but I’m not sure you’d survive the impact,” he said with a grin. “Try me,” I said, daring him with my eyes. But it was not to be.

Soon after one of the barmaids told him he needed to call home. He turned to us and said, “I half expected this, though I had hoped it wouldn’t happen tonight. I’m needed at the farm.” The man I had hoped to lure into my bed instead looked disappointed when he said, “perhaps we could get together again before you leave?” I replied, “As long as it’s not here. We’re in music city. I want to hear live artists doing their thing.” He thought for a minute before replying, “Would you like to hear really good amateur musicians?” I nodded my assent. He continued by saying, “I ask because I’m going to a jam session tomorrow night that’ll be limited to a couple dozen friends.” It was exactly the setting I wanted to get him in: small and intimate. I didn’t try to keep the eagerness from my voice when I replied, “I hope there’s going to be dancing.” He nodded, saying, “It will be mostly couples attending so, yes, that’s a part of it. These guys do it mostly for fun.” Turning to Walker, he continued, “I hope you’ll come too.” “Sorry,” he said regretfully, “I’ll pass. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, you know.” I could have kissed him right then.

After Stretch left Walker looked crestfallen. “The night’s young, honey,” I said, taking his hand. “Don’t give up yet.” But he wasn’t having it. “Look,” I continued, “I think Tom’s interested; you remember, my slow dance partner.” He nodded. “If you left I’m sure he’ll come around.” I quickly added, “Go to the room. When we get there I’ll bump against the door to warn you. I promise I’ll put on a good show.” I reached across and touched his hand. “Now look angry for me and leave,” I said.

Within five minutes Tom was back and I invited him to sit close beside me. “Where are your friends?” he asked. I gave a dismissive gesture as I looked him in the eye, then responded, “One left me for a cow and the other had a hissy fit from being ignored.” He remained straight-faced, but raised an eyebrow to show his confusion. I gave him a Cheshire cat smile. “I’d rather be with you anyway,” I said as I rested my hand on his arm. For the next few minutes we enjoyed flirting, with me adding little signals of interest, like stroking my long hair and smiling as I leaned toward him. Before too long, though, I got impatient waiting for him to make the next move and decided to speed things up.

I glanced around the room to check our privacy. Our table, tucked into a corner, was a good place, I decided, to perform my seduction. “Tom.” I said, interrupting him, “Stop.” He paused in mid-sentence, then tilted his head to one side; a questioning look on his face. I slowly licked my upper lip, then ran my hands along the opening of my blouse, pausing at the end of the V, where my breasts strained against the material. “Watch,” I said as I poised my fingers on either side of a button, flicked it open, then traveled to the next one. “Do you want me to continue?” I said in almost a whisper. He nodded his head in assent. I unfastened it also. That got his undivided attention. “Want more?” I asked seductively, even as I tugged at the material, exposing my bra to his view. “God, yes, Jade,” he croaked. Curling my fingers around its lacy edge, I pulled the flimsy fabric slowly down, gradually exposing my round areola. “Is this what you wanted to see? I said in a huskily voice. Stunned for a moment, all he could do was look, mesmerized at my hardening nipple. I flicked it with my fingernail, then said, “I’m horny, Tom.” In response he reached around to cup the back of my head and pulled me into a slow, passionate kiss. When it was over I put myself back together, then said, “Let’s take this to a more private place.”

We kissed and fumbled at each other all the way to the room. When we arrived I spun him around and pushed him against the door, licking his neck and grabbing at his crotch. I fumbled with the key, distracted by his hands insistently mauling my tits. We almost stumbled getting inside, then he slammed the door and forced me up against it, groping me and burying me with a hot kiss. When I was able to surface for a moment I checked out the room; it was well lit by lamps on either side of the bed. Time to perform, I thought.

For over an hour I did everything I knew Walker would like to see and hear; starting by engaging Tom in an increasingly intense make-out session. I loved the way he deeply kissed me; our tongues intertwining in a sensuous dance. He sought to arouse me further by nibbling at my neck and earlobes. And I was vocal; constantly encouraging him. My blouse and slacks disappeared immediately but I stopped him from going further, instead taking pleasure in unbuttoning and removing his starched dress shirt. I caused him to moan in need when I put my hand down his pants, grabbing his stiff, upthrust cock; then kissing him in concert with stroking his manhood. “Say it,” I urged, “Tell me what you’re going to do to me.” Tom responded in a passion laden voice, “I’m going to lay you on the bed and lick your pretty pussy until you beg me to fuck you. Then I’m going to wear you out.” I moaned my agreement, then stuck my tongue down his throat.

We got his slacks and underwear off, somehow, without him falling over. “This is what I want,” I said as I cupped his balls and stroked his hard cock. “I need it,” I said urgently. He picked me up like I weighed nothing, then dropped me on the bed, jerked my flimsy panties off and pushed my legs wide apart with his strong hands, then buried his face between my thighs. “You want it, don’t you,” he said, “you little slut,” playing a game of talking dirty. I expected him to lick my slit but he didn’t. For the next few minutes he covered my inner thighs with delicate kisses, then stopped and blew on my exposed clit before taking the tip of his tongue and vibrating it. It drove me crazy. My breathing became quick and ragged and I felt flushed all over, surprised his actions had taken me to the edge so soon. “Don’t tease me!” I shouted. “Eat my pussy! I grabbed his head and held it against my engorged labia, forcing him to comply. It wasn’t long before my first orgasm possessed me.

That was just the beginning. He didn’t quit but made me cum twice more with his tongue before climbing my body, not pausing before thrusting his hard penis in to the hilt. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him close, licking his ear and urging him on. “God, your cock feels so big.” I crooned, even though its length wasn’t hitting me as deeply as I needed. “It’s so hard,” I exclaimed, “I wanted this the minute you pulled me against it” He was breathing heavily as his manhood pounded me into the mattress. “Me, too,” he said, “I knew I had found a hungry one in you.” I thrust my legs high in the air, then grabbing his ass and forced him deeper in me. “I got wet the whole time we danced,” I said, “I was determined to get your hard cock in my pussy.” Panting loudly, I lied, announcing, “I’m almost there.” “I’m close, too,” he moaned, but then stopped his thrusts before saying, “not yet.”

He flipped me so I was on my hands and knees and surprised me by burying his face in my pussy. I was right on the edge as he ate me and he used his tongue to keep me there. “Quit,” I yelled, “give me you cock, damn you.” “No,” he said, “we’re going to do it my way.” Then he started to use three fingers to furiously fuck me, causing me to arch my back and push my ass toward him. “You want it.” he taunted, “beg me.” Desperate now, I looked over my shoulder at him before pleading, “Oh, please, please! I need your cock!” I wanted release in the worst way. “I want your cum!” Instead of complying he started licking my puckered rosebud, causing erotic shocks to course through my body. But he still wouldn’t mount me. “Damn you” I shouted, wiggling my ass in frustration, “Damn you to hell!” I screamed. Then I felt his fat thumb push past my sphincter and rapidly thrust into me. That’s all it took. I jerked and spasmed through an intense orgasm, then collapsed on the mattress.

After I recovered I pushed him on his back, put my hair in a ponytail, moved in position over his groin, and returned the favor to his still-hard penis: first licking the length of his cock before moving to the skin of his scrotum. Finding his testicles with my tongue, I pushed them around in their soft pouch, followed by a fluttering journey with the sharp tip of my tongue around the slit-like opening on the end of his penis. That got a reaction from him. I made eye contact with him and said, “You like?” “Oh, yes,” he breathed. Continuing to stare in his eyes, I started masturbating him, twisting my wrist back and forth each time it traveled up and down his shaft. Then I took him in my mouth and teased the sensitive spot beneath the head with my teeth, driving him wild.

“Are you ready to cum?” I asked. “Yes,” he croaked. “Not yet. We’re going to do it my way,” I said sweetly as I threw his own words back at him. I sat back on my heels, still gently pumping his cock with my hand, “Reach behind you and get a pillow,” I instructed him. When he had complied I told him to raise his butt, then I placed the folded pillow beneath him. Now I had room to work. Continuing to masturbate him, I scooted down so my face was close to his backdoor. “You’re going to like this,” I said before my tongue started dancing over the puckered skin of his anus. That got him breathing heavily. Then I got serious about my task: generously lubricating the opening with my saliva, I raised up and put my mouth right above his distended cock. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “Umm,” was all I said as I filled my mouth and simultaneously pushed my finger past his sphincter. I quickly found his prostate and began to massage it. Then I used my tongue to worry the area just beneath his pee-hole. It had an immediate effect. “Argh!!” he wailed, as his body spasmed upward, then began to fill my mouth with his warm cum. I continued until I had sucked him dry. Releasing his spent penis from my mouth, I asked, “You like?”

After he recuperated we got serious about fucking each other. It quickly turned into a battle of wills as we each tried to arouse the other to orgasm. Neither was successful for awhile. Finally I decided to surrender to the euphoria our competition had produced. But as good as his small cock felt inside me I needed to tell him to pinch my nipples, hard, while I rode him, in order to put myself over the top. Sadly, the resulting orgasms didn’t make me scream. He seemed satisfied, though, with his triumph, and was happy as I lay back, legs open in invitation, ready for him to use my saturated pussy until he found release also. I stared intently into his eyes and challenged him, saying, “Use me like the slut I am.” It only took him a few minutes to fill me with his hot essence.

“Tom,” I said, “you need to go.” He was still laying on top of me, his soft cock just having slipped from my vagina. “So soon?” he inquired, even as he began to comply. “I don’t want to move when I’m like this, all satisfied from your loving. It’s the best sleep I’ll ever get, but I want to be alone. You understand, don’t you?” He nodded as he set about the task of getting presentable. When he was ready he bent down and gave me a tender kiss, “I’m going to remember this for a long time,” he said, “you’re special.” With that he left me, letting the door shut ever so gently behind him, but I knew I wasn’t alone.

“Walker,” I called out, “I need you.” My husband emerged from his hiding spot, already naked, his long cock preceding him. He lay beside me and we kissed, his fingers dipping into my slippery slit. “Taste your fingers,” I said, “then kiss me.” He looked at me, questioning the request with his eyes, but complied. It was a long and passionate kiss. “Did you get what you wanted?” I asked after our lips separated. “Yes,” he said, “I’d almost forgotten how wild you get when you fuck a new man.” “Umm,” I said, “I did it for you.” I waited for a minute before continuing. “I want you to make me cum, too.” He started to mount me. “No,” I said, stopping him with my hands on his chest, “with your mouth.” It was what I had wanted to ask for a long time but dreaded, fearful he would reject my request. He looked at me and said, “I don’t know if I can do that, you know, with his stuff still in you.” I caught his eye, then replied, “You remember that night before the gorge trip? Stew came in me, then ate my pussy? That was so hot. But it’s always you, not him, I imagine doing it when I masturbate.” He returned my stare, then stated, “So you need this.” “Please,” I pleaded in my little girl voice.

He didn’t hesitate, but started to get between my legs. “No,” I said, “I want to be on top.” He sighed as he lay flat, then waited. Excited now, I swung my leg over his head and lowered my pussy toward his lips. I almost came as soon as his tongue touched my inner lips and delved into my sweetness. I pushed down with my vaginal muscles, forcing Tom’s cum into his waiting mouth. The thought of it sent tingles throughout my body, my mind exploding with erotic thoughts; of Stew doing it to me, of me with my fingers buried in my pussy, lost in orgasm at the thought of it, and now of Walker making my fantasy come true. I felt myself slipping down a glassy slope, accelerating with each new sensation coming from my engorged labia. I finally crashed into a starry cloud at its end; my exploding senses giving me the most intense orgasm since Stew. I screamed out my release.

Things calmed down after that, even as I twice more enjoyed my husband’s long cock. Right before I drifted off to sleep, content in my husband’s arms, I thought, Walker was right, I needed this, but then I corrected myself…we needed it.

[Chrislydi]

"Right before I drifted off to sleep, content in my husband’s arms, I thought, Walker was right, I needed this, but then I corrected myself…we needed it."

Sometimes recognising an events significance only becomes apparent long afterwards as hindsight magnifies those special moments, those turning points for good and bad, those that changed the trajectory or made us choose the subsequent path, the ones that gave a purpose and meaning to what came afterwards. Here though such recognition is immediate, the importance of the previous hours recognised for what it was, an important confirmation that what happened was needed, not just by Jade but in their differing ways by both of them, done together and enjoyed together as they now build towards an exciting aftermath. They can now confidently look forward with both excitement and anticipation to the tryst's and perhaps longer and more meaningful episodes that are bound to follow.

A wonderfully articulate and highly erotic account of a momentous evening and night. A life changing moment in time beautifully encapsulated within a few paragraphs by an extraordinarily gifted author.

Chris.

[john jasson]

After reading innumerable posts in the Library, as well as Cuckold and Hotwife forums, I have come to the realization that my effort doesn't fit the established formula for story construction. It makes it hard for readers to follow when, instead of the rhythm of short posts along a timeline and comments afterwards, they see a continuing storyline being presented. I'm sure it must be frustrating waiting for the next fifteen or twenty minute snippet to be presented.

I'm willing to try posting larger blocks that will move the story along more quickly. This first chapter will be completed with two more posts. I have the next chapter completed and it is, for comparison, about the length of this one. A third chapter will complete our journey. Don't expect it to be any shorter.

But that doesn't address the format I've chosen. I'd like your observations. Has it gotten tedious? Jade, like everyone, changes as she ages and finds success in her profession. I can't help it, the length of this saga is beyond my control, feeling compelled, as I am, to do justice to this lovely, complex woman.

So: keep going with bigger segments or just give up and find somewhere else on the web that is more suited to this type of expression?

Hi BDJ. As you observed, life tends to intervene, but having read several sections of your engaging story now, my only response to your question would be to try not to obsess too much about the number, length and frequency of your posts and just concentrate on telling the story in whichever way suits your mood.

We all lead busy lives, and things like this must necessarily be fitted around our other responsibilities. I feel sure that so long as your content motivates your readers, they are not going to abandon the journey because of the length or frequency of the sections, or other such minutiae. If you’re telling a smoking hot story then those details won’t matter at all. Obviously, if you go missing for six months or more, then readers will get out of the habit of checking back for your thread, but on the whole, I really don’t believe this is the burning issue you seem to see it as.

I gain the impression that your question is driven by a perception that you don’t have as many readers as you would like, nor the quantity of feedback comments that you expected. This is a common experience, so don’t take it personally. It was certainly mine the first time I posted anything, but you just get used to it. Your threads have thousands of views, so there are certainly people out there who are following your writing. Do remember that many will read but are too shy to comment online. Others are simply too lazy. I am afraid that there is no change you can make to the format that will change this. We badly need more prolific members like Chris! Perhaps we could clone him and have lots of Chrises at large on here.

I can only speak for myself regarding posting style, and the answer is that I don’t have one. I write in short bursts that may be no more than a few minutes when I can find the time. It might take days to pen a section or even a week or two. I can't afford to beat myself up over it. Then I will read through what I have and edit as necessary. When I reach a point that seems like a natural break or a fiendish cliffhanger, then I’ll post it. It really doesn’t matter about the length of each post. Mine are randomly short or long. I think it’s actually good to vary the format in this way, although it’s just the way it happens. There’s definitely no grand plan afoot! Looking at other threads on the site there appears to be a similar laissez-faire approach by most others.

As for changing to another web outlet that’s more suitable, well, where do you suggest? At least OHW offers a tolerant community that is for the most part actually interested and enthusiastic about the subjects we discuss. Elsewhere you may find a larger audience, but it will come complete with legions of brain dead knuckle dragging morons who are concerned only with shouting you down and trying to ridicule the whole concept you’re putting out there. There’s a huge amount of hate on Literotica. What could be more soul destroying, and why would you set yourself up for it?

Good luck and keep writing. It absolutely isn't tedious, by the way!

JJ.

[BDJ]

The wisdom of your words is noted, Obi-Wan Kenobi. All kidding aside, I do thank you for your advice. Early on I noted your way with words and, more importantly, how you can infuse the reality of the moment into an essentially difficult narrative format.

My period of self-doubt has passed as I have gotten ever more involved in the task of telling her story. I find myself trying more now to hue to the truth, even as I struggle to structure it into a tale that flows naturally forward.

As to how many are following along: I realize now that if Chris is reading my work and commenting, then thousands of others probably are also---but are too intimated to speak, cowed by the eloquence of his words; fearful they can never match his insights. (But I really wish they would try.)

The next segment will be posted soon.

[BDJ]

Part 2

Stretch

A surprise awaited us the next morning. We hadn’t planned anything special; just enjoy a day together, but when we checked for messages at the front desk we discovered Stretch was free for the afternoon and had invited us to his farm: me to play tennis while Walker was to be entertained looking over his collection of antique farm equipment. My husband told me we were going, if for no other reason, he explained, than to see me in my lacy tennis outfit. I negotiated our activities for that morning to include a shopping spree for an appropriate outfit to wear that night. When we informed him we would come Stretch said his farm manager would take care of our transportation.

That afternoon we traveled to the farm in an old truck. Walker had stopped dead upon seeing it: staring in admiration at the gleaming relic from the past. “It’s not just any truck,” he said in exasperation, “that’s a classic 1954 International Harvester tan-over-red pickup.” Riding in it was actually very comfortable but I still remained disappointed.

After we got there I focused on getting reacquainted with Stretch and our game. My white outfit, complete with daring lacy bra and panties, was complimented by his own white polo shirt and shorts. Despite his unconventionally shaped body, I thought he looked really sexy. And he surprised me with how well he was able to move that bulky form, beating me five sets out of six; but I battled him to deuce in two of those, making him work long and hard for his wins. He joked with me, saying at least all that lace didn’t weigh me down. He could joke all he wanted but I caught him giving me appraising, and I thought, hungry, looks more than once. “Come on,” he said, observing me bent over, trying to catch my breath after our final set, “let’s get some refreshment.”

He led me to a small pavilion adjacent to the tennis court. We stopped on its shaded porch where he prepared iced tea; all the necessary condiments had been conveniently stored in insulated containers against the heat. For awhile we just relaxed lazily in a swing, my legs dangling as he did all the work moving us back and forth. I loved where this seemed to be going; all alone with this attractive man, with my interest in him mounting by the moment. Even his sweat was intoxicating to me. “Why don’t we get a shower, then I’ll give you a massage.” he said casually. My heart leaped and my pussy pulsed with sudden desire. “I’d love that,” I responded, trying to keep the obvious lust from my voice.

When we went inside I had a chance to look around. The building’s interior was divided into three rooms: a common area, then two bath areas, complete with changing room and toilet. When I commented on the layout he explained that he often played with women and it gave them some privacy as they cleaned up afterwards. I agreed it was a good idea, but was disappointed at the same time. Ever the proper southern gentleman, Stretch parted ways with me as we prepared to bathe.

After that, I became interested in having the promised massage, seeing it as my next chance to get more intimidate with this complicated man. He hadn’t made a move on me yet and I wanted him to. So, after we cleaned up I presented myself, wrapped in just a towel, at the screened off area where the massage table was located…but he wasn’t there. Just then I heard him enter the common area. I prepared for his entrance but instead heard him instruct me to get on the table, face down, and cover my butt with a towel. I was peeved I wasn’t able to make a dramatic display of unwrapping my naked form in front of him. Didn’t he want to see me that way, I wondered?

I did as he requested, my head resting on a small pillow, minimally covered to satisfy his modesty. Some soft music began playing in the background as he appeared and began his task. When he got to the towel covering my ass he stopped short of continuing under it. That was frustrating, I especially wanted to feel him working on my buttocks. He started again at my feet and worked back up my legs, massaging my lower calves. Then he switched his focus to using long strokes on my quadriceps. It all felt so heavenly that I let myself relax, completely open to the action of his hands. I wasn't so calm when he pressed the heel of his hands against the muscles of my inner thighs: I opened my legs a little in an effort to get him to go higher, to actually touch my now-engorged vaginal lips. He could tell of that need, I’m sure, because when he switched to my other leg he counseled, “Patience, Jade, patience.”

Finally I felt the towel being removed and moaned loudly in relief…or was it release?…as his probing fingers began a journey down my round buttocks. “This is what you were waiting for, isn’t it, Jade?” he crooned, his low, sexy baritone only adding to my need. “Ummm,” I replied as I arched my ass up against his hands, eager to feel his fingertips on my oh-so-wet labia.

Abruptly my erotic expectations were shattered when I heard Walker reply, “It’s all she’s been talking about since she first saw you.” Stretch paused but didn’t remove his hands from my ass. I jerked up on my elbows and looked for the source of his voice. I saw Walker in front of me, but more embarrassing, the farm manager, standing at the edge of the screen that had hidden them from our view. “Damn!” was all I my throat would allow me to croak, but then my focus zeroed in on the old man; an ugly leer on his face as he stared at my now-hanging tits. I dropped back down to hide them, then commanded, “Cover me up, Stretch.”

Suddenly I was angry: mad at having my pleasure interrupted, fuming at my supposed “fuck buddy” who should have known better, and almost apoplectic at having my naked form on display in front of that disgusting old man. In a voice that expressed all that and more I shouted to the room at large, “LEAVE!!” When they had done so I got up and dressed. Later I sat leaning against the passenger door of the old truck as we returned to our hotel, my stony-faced visage hiding my emotional turmoil. I was still so mad I didn’t know if I wanted to give my daring husband a hard kick in the balls, or forgive him and go on with our foolish plan to seduce a man who seemed oblivious to, or perhaps disinterested in, my aging charms. I‘d never felt so old.

I heard a low wolf whistle, followed by Stretch’s sexy baritone saying, “My don’t you look fetching.” Examining a bronze bust, sculpted by Tennessee native Belle Kinney, had distracted me as I waited for him in the hotel lobby. Turning to face him I smiled, letting him know my anger of the afternoon had dissipated. The outfit I had purchased for our late-night date consisted of an embroidered, western-cut, broadcloth shirt worn with two of the top buttons undone and tucked into a short, tight blue jeans skirt. Walker had convinced me to forget the bra, saying Stretch would be driven crazy by the occasional flashes the stiff cloth would allow of my unimpeded breasts. It was an easy sell; I loved the way the rough fabric rubbed against my sensitive nipples. I completed my outfit with a newly purchased pair of western boots; my waist-length hair held in place by a silver clasp inlaid with turquoise. “I fear I’m going to have a hard time keeping you to myself,” he said. Smiling broadly, I teased him by responding, “I hope so.”

If looks could indicate what was to be found inside, the facade of the faded storefront didn’t inspire much encouragement. We had parked on the quiet back street before approaching its old-fashioned double doors. The flanking display windows were covered with what looked like butcher paper, denying anyone a peek inside. We were getting ready to go in when we were greeted by a slim, youngish looking male who grabbed Stretch’s hand in greeting, then said, “You old son of a gun, you caught another one.” He tipped his cowboy hat, grinned broadly, and addressed me, “He’s too ugly for you. Ditch him and I’ll show you how it’s done.” I looked at him more closely and decided this cocky man, in no way good looking, was trying to pick me up, right in front of my date. My pussy quivered. He switched his attention back to Stretch before adding, “Is she my birthday present?” Stretch punched him on the shoulder. “You wish.” he replied, smiling broadly.

Once inside we moved slowly through the small assembled group: there wasn’t a whole lot of light to negotiate by, and what did shine on us was filtered through a haze of cigarette smoke. I could hear guitars and a fiddle being tuned above the pervasive chatter of those already present. Stretch led me to the back of the room where a trio of musicians paused in their preparations. During our introductions the man who had greeted us at the door joined them. He gave me a lopsided grin as he held out his hand, saying, “I was remiss in not introducing myself a minute ago. My momma would be ashamed.” Charmed by that little act of contrition, I gave him a warm smile. My interest was further piqued when he said he was called Mad Dog. Hm, I thought, if Stretch didn’t work out?…but my date chose that moment to lead me to a spot at a long counter containing variously labeled bottles and an assemblage of glasses. There he poured us each two fingers of Belle Meade bourbon, neat: something I never drank. He led me to a spot a little distance from the musicians where we perched on tall stools, waiting for things to start. Stretch swirled the contents of his glass and told me to do the same, then had me put my nose close to the rim, saying the motion of the liquid brought out the aroma. So we did that and talked before we sipped, content for the moment in each others company.

The musicians began playing and things got a little quieter. I was surprised to hear Mad Dog’s voice, complimented by the weeping sound of a pedal steel guitar: they sounded so good together I melted a little inside just listening. When a two-step started up Stretch took me onto the open space before the band and we joined other couples smoothly moving in a wide circle, all going in the same direction. I felt like a teenager again; looking over at Stretch, anticipating our next move as I fell under the spell of the honky-tonk song. A faster tune was played next and I couldn’t help but move my hips more suggestively, doing twirls and back-steps as Stretch guided us among the other dancers. My smile encouraged him; my sexy moves telegraphed my interest.

When the band started a slow song I thought we’d continue, but one of the musicians I had just met cut in before we could even begin. Stretch just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, indicating this was normal. My new partner was young and as tall as Walker, but much thinner. He held me close from the beginning, both hands resting lightly on my hips rather than the traditional hands-holding with the other around my waist. I put mine on his arms and looked up at his friendly face. He bent over and, speaking softly, told me he had been watching me and had just now worked up the courage to ask for a dance. Intrigued, I decided to encourage him to become more forward by moving a little closer, pressing my breasts against him. In response, he lowered his head to my ear as if to speak but instead lightly kissed it. “I can’t help myself, you’re so pretty,” he whispered. “It’s OK,” I replied. “I’m not offended.” It was what he needed to start tracing little nibbles down my neck; light fleeting touches that started to arouse me almost immediately. I just moaned softly in response. Soon his hands slid down to cup my ass, drawing me into contact with his hard-on. I had played this game at swinger parties so I pressed back, uttering an appreciative “Umm.” He was encouraged by my response and showed it by grinning at me, then murmured, “Oh boy.” I put my arms around his neck and looked up at him, further letting him know I approved of what he was doing. He responded by offering me his mouth. Even though I hadn’t planned to, I let myself melt into his embrace; soon I became swept away by the feel of his lithe body and lips on mine. We must have been noticed by the other musicians because another dreamy slow song followed and we continued our dance; sometimes just standing in place, gently swaying as we kissed almost non-stop.

I wanted him in the worst way by the time he delivered me back to Stretch. “You look like you were enjoying yourself,” my date said with a slight smile as I took my seat beside him. “I’m sorry,” I replied, not feeling that way at all, “I guess I’m not holding my liquor very well.” Looking at him boldly, I continued, “When that happens it goes straight to my pussy.” He looked startled, then broke out in a broad grin, “You’re my kind of woman.” he replied, a hint of respect in his voice. Good, I thought, now maybe you’ll treat me like he did. Silence ensued after that as I focused on the remainder of my smokey tasting drink.

I hadn’t realized the music had stopped until it began again, another slow ballad, a perfect opportunity for Stretch to claim me. As we stood Mad Dog appeared in front of us. “Could I have this dance, Jade?” he said, “You don’t mind, do you Stretch?” My date graciously turned me over to his friend, whereupon my new partner led me only a few feet away, but still a more private space than the dance floor. I was not happy Stretch had given me up so easily, but at least Mad Dog held me properly as we moved in time to the musics’ slow beat. I was surprised when he began to serenade me with the words of the song being played. This man, I was discovering, knew his way into a woman’s heart. In the comfort of his strong arms I found myself drifting down the path to arousal again. That’s why, when I felt his hand leave mine and move to the buttons of my shirt, I didn’t immediately stop him. He looked in my eyes, seeking guidance and inquired, “OK?”

Did I want this to happen, I thought? It didn’t appear Stretch was planning a similar move anytime soon, indeed, I couldn’t read his intentions at all. If he didn’t want me that way, I decided, I might as well see where it would lead with Mad Dog. I nodded my assent. He slowly unfastened them, pausing after the last button, then pulled the fabric away from my body, exposing the fullness of my breasts to the dim light. He whistled softly in appreciation, then whispered, “You’ll do.”

He slipped his hand inside to cup one of my heaving bosoms. I reveled in his touch as he rolled each engorged nipple between his fingers, alternating from one to the other. That was what I loved so much about a new man; discovering how he chose to arouse me so I would allow him to go further. His expert caress of my breasts felt so delicious I put my arms around his neck and offered up my lips, making no effort at all to stop him as his hand moved from my breasts down my front; bunching my skirt up as he sought entrance to my wetness. We stopped dancing as his fingers found the edge of my panties, then slipped inside, immediately discovering my clitoris. We stayed like that, barely noticeable in the smoky light, until the songs’ end: our tongues dancing together insistently, the fingers of one hand stroking my hardened nub, sending shock-waves of desire through my body, his other firmly holding my ass.

Stretch was waiting for me as I was delivered back to him, still panting from the effect of Mad Dog’s touch. He saw the dreamy look on my face and how far my blouse was unbuttoned, but just smiled, not concerned at what we had done. Even in my aroused condition I had the presence of mind to wonder what type of man would tolerate that. “You don’t care Mad Dog took liberties?” I challenged, the full effect of the whiskey I had consumed making my voice slur slightly. “It’s not for me to protest,” he replied patiently, his face unreadable, “I don’t own you.” It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I pouted, then tilted my head at him and furrowed my brow. For a moment I reevaluated what I expected from this enigmatic man. He attracted me in a way no male had shown the power to do since Jeff in Charleston so long ago. But he wasn’t pursuing me and I wanted that badly. I finally concluded it didn’t matter, Mad Dog had primed me to need a cock inside my now pulsating pussy. I knew at least he would be happy to give me what I wanted. Dammit, I thought, why did it have to be so complicated. Finally I decided I’d give him the benefit of the doubt; to see where this night would end if I did…what? I wasn’t sure. To spite him, though, I made no attempt to re-button my shirt, choosing to display a good portion of my boobs, even as the night wore on and I was repeatedly called upon to dance with each of the musicians in that little spot they favored. It didn’t upset me that word spread among them that I was easy and wouldn’t protest when they felt me up: I played along, pressing up against their excited cocks, offering them passionate kisses, even as I made sure Stretch saw me do it. My date sat, impassive, through it all. Oh, he reclaimed me occasionally by taking me on the floor whenever a two-step was played, not concerned at all with the disarray of my shirt. I wasn’t either when I noticed several other women in a similar state. But my heart’s desire; a slow dance, one where I could press against him and probe for his hardness, eluded us. So I took advantage of the hard bodies of his musician friends and enjoyed being the object of their lust. But, in the end, my strategy backfired. By the time the session broke up I was so horny I would have fucked them all.

[Johng1953]

"Even in my aroused condition I had the presence of mind to wonder what type of man would tolerate that"
Er... maybe one like the man you married?
Loving your story even though I don't have the eloquence of Chris and I really do hope you continue.

[Chrislydi]

"Even in my aroused condition I had the presence of mind to wonder what type of man would tolerate that"
Er... maybe one like the man you married?
Loving your story even though I don't have the eloquence of Chris and I really do hope you continue.

I'm absolutely embarrassed by all this nonsense, I often feel completely intimidated when reading some of the really talented writers on this forum, not least of which is BDJ himself.

What a woman Jade has matured into compared to the one we first encounter in that bar, that innocent ingénue in the Charleston, South Carolina bar accompanied by her enthusiastic, newly wed and slightly nervous and tentative husband Walker. Then we remember her first seeing and being seduced by the far older more worldly Jeff, that southern charm that carried a predatory menace and the way he first started the process on that fateful weekend. We've travelled with them since as her 'education' continued, Walker always encouraging and cajoling, he wanted this even more than his stunningly attractive young wife. Stew his best man became her longer term fuck buddy of choice someone who she couldn't help loving too, but then there was Lauren that all knowing down to earth mischievous English girl who showed her a whole range of other sexual delights to be had. Jade the pupil became Jade the teacher as she introduced the young and inexperienced Chet how to please a real woman, the young boy becoming a man in super fast time under her expert and carefully tailored tutelage.

We now meet her after her intervening swinging years, her education widened beyond measure and finally completed with added degrees of sophistication and adventure. Finally now so many years later we meet up with Jade right in her prime, thirty four years old and never more beautiful and attractive both in outward appearance and inward character. This Jade is the fully developed and fine tuned finished article intent on fulfilling both her own but most of all her loving husband Walker's wishes, to use her talents to the full and give both of them experiences of a lifetime. Nashville Tennessee now has her first major public exhibit installed in the local civic park, and her fellow sculptor Stretch is the latest target for our heroine and her husband, they're taking up his invitation to visit his farm intent on carrying out their plan, to entice Stretch to cooperate and to share together the ensuing pleasures. Stretch of course acts like a Southern gentleman he is showing all the refined manners and care, dishing out compliments and admiring her beauty but there's also a problem, he's far too easy and ready to give her to someone else to unwrap for Jade's liking, where's the red bloodrd possessiveness, the wanting to have her all for himself? No wonder Jade looks towards Mad Dog (incidentally isn't that a pseudonym for one of the posters on here too?) and the other musicians at the dance. Jade has matured beyond belief, more woman than ever, she knows her desires, she knows what her Walker wants and what they both need but most of all she knows what she wants and how to get it.

Brilliant writing from BDJ once again taking us right into the heart and minds of Jade and Walker as we feel and experience those same emotions. Writing from Jade's perspective in a way that I suspect only a woman could really write, to describe her annoyance when she heard Walkers voice and saw the older unattractive farm manager destroy what she thought was her long awaited more intimate time with Stretch, was outstanding, I felt that annoyance too and what's more could perfectly understand why. Maybe 'Jade' is inspiring him even now.

Chris

[Johng1953]

"Even in my aroused condition I had the presence of mind to wonder what type of man would tolerate that"
Er... maybe one like the man you married?
Loving your story even though I don't have the eloquence of Chris and I really do hope you continue.

I'm absolutely embarrassed by all this nonsense, I often feel completely intimidated when reading some of the really talented writers on this forum, not least of which is BDJ himself.


Chris

Don't have a go at me, I didn't start it and was really having a slight dig at BDJ if anything for suggesting your eloquence was intimidating the rest of us!

" As to how many are following along: I realize now that if Chris is reading my work and commenting, then thousands of others probably are also---but are too intimated to speak, cowed by the eloquence of his words; fearful they can never match his insights. (But I really wish they would try.) "

[Chrislydi]

"Even in my aroused condition I had the presence of mind to wonder what type of man would tolerate that"
Er... maybe one like the man you married?
Loving your story even though I don't have the eloquence of Chris and I really do hope you continue.

I'm absolutely embarrassed by all this nonsense, I often feel completely intimidated when reading some of the really talented writers on this forum, not least of which is BDJ himself.


Chris

Don't have a go at me, I didn't start it and was really having a slight dig at BDJ if anything for suggesting your eloquence was intimidating the rest of us!

" As to how many are following along: I realize now that if Chris is reading my work and commenting, then thousands of others probably are also---but are too intimated to speak, cowed by the eloquence of his words; fearful they can never match his insights. (But I really wish they would try.) "

I'm sorry Johng1953, that must have come across badly as I didn't mean it that way at all, more in a jokey way. I never for one minute was offended or anything of that order, more embarrassed to be described in such terms but flattered too. I would hate to think I offended anyone but be assured it was never my intention. I can only apologise for not realising it might be interpreted that way. Definitely keep on commenting as that's exactly what BDJ wants. I've read your comments elsewhere and think you always seem to make excellent points and observations, I find they're always well worth reading. I must admit I thought of the irony behind that comment on Stretch too, Walker being the obvious example.

Chris