Fond Rememberance: The Sequel


I told you about my surprise visit from my old neighbor Ann, the reaction of my current neighbors, Marge and Molly, and that we had quite a party the evening after Ann’s visit. Somebody said I ought to get on with that story, so here it is.

First, I should tell you a little more about my neighbors and me. Molly and I have been together about four years, and Marge joined us three years ago. We’re all old enough to have keys to the K.M.A. club, and except for Marge, we don’t much care what others think, any more. Good thing, too, our lifestyle isn’t exactly conventional.

Molly is an open book, a raucous old gal who doesn’t care squat about what people think, while Marge is quiet and prudish. I’m still not entirely sure why she puts up with us, but she’s here.

We all began with the standard dream of our generation; love, marriage, children, a cute little cottage, and a happy ever after. Didn’t work out that way for any of us. I loved a woman who needed more sex than I, or any one man could give, and when we finally called it quits, I never wanted a commitment again. Things worked out O.K. for me, though there were a lot of lonely times. Not any more.

Molly had two husbands. The first was a womanizer who brought s.t.d.’s home, and hurt her badly. She’s a free spirit who marches to her own drummer, but she’s not a cheater, and she didn’t deserve what she got from him. They divorced, and she married a man who turned out to be a recovering alcoholic who never really recovered. He abused her when he drank, and when they split, she decided to fly solo, too.

Marge came closest to living the fairy tale; married forty-five years to an upstanding man, who treated her kindly, gave her three kids, and a nice house in the suburbs, but used her for a wham, bam, thank you ma’am once a week, with no thought for her needs and desires. He had the decency to die of a heart attack, but made no provision for her. By the time her kids finished picking over the remaining assets, she had enough to pay the rent on an efficiency apartment here, with about enough left over to keep her in toilet paper and cleansing tissue. She lived the nice, respectable, conventional life society expected of our generation, but it was empty of real love. She arrived here full of anger and bitterness. Do you wonder why?

When Marge moved in, she was sure Molly, and I were a couple of hedonists bound for hell, but she got curious about how such sinful people could laugh so much. I guess you could say we co-opted her. She’s still pretty tight, but for the first time in her life, she has someone who’ll accept her as she is, and who pays attention to her needs for love and affection, which Molly and I both do.

Molly and I have had our share of hurt. We worked through it, and we know what’s good in life and what isn’t. Marge didn’t have much that was good, and thought what she had was all there is. With us, she’s learning otherwise.

We live in adjacent apartments, but we’re a family; we care for one another, and watch over one another. Our apartments have connecting doors, so we come and go as we please, but if we need privacy, we just close the door on our side, and the others respect it. Molly’s door, and mine, are almost always open, but Marge is still working through a lot of stuff, and she sometimes needs her privacy.

Well, you didn’t ask for chit-chat, you want to hear about the party, so here goes.

I told you about the big smooch Ann laid on me when she left after her visit, and how I reminisced about her. All that afternoon, Molly bugged me about what happened between Ann and me, but I teased her, putting her off. Marge didn’t say much, but I’ve learned to read her body language, and I knew she was in a sweat to find out, too.

I took the gals out to a nice restaurant for dinner, and we had some wine, just enough to loosen Marge up a little. I teased them about how I was going to confess all, after we got home, and by the time we got there, their panties were in knots with anticipation. I think they would have killed me if I hadn’t finally told them. I fixed us a drink, continuing the tease as long as I could, but finally, we all sat down, and I started.

I went back to the beginning, about Ann’s charisma from the time she was a little girl, the environment she grew up in, my shock and surprise at her asking me to take her cherry when she was sixteen, and how I convinced her to wait.

When I got into the story of the two weeks we finally spent together, I didn’t spare the details, and things got warm for all of us. Molly slouched down in her chair, all dreamy-eyed, and eased her skirt up to stroke her pussy. Marge got the grim look she always gets just before the inhibitions programmed into her over all those years, break down. The memory I was reciting was getting me worked up too.

I know you’re skeptical about one thing. You know I’m seventy-nine, and there aren’t any seventy-nine year-old studs. You’re right, of course, but I cheat. Two years Ankara travesti ago, I had an implant. When I pump that sucker up, it can stay up a lot longer than I can. It caused quite a stir when I came home with it, and some day I’ll tell you the reaction the gals had.

I keep myself in good shape, and my libido is fine, especially with two horny old broads stroking me all the time, but naturally, I don’t have the strength and stamina I used to. The girls make allowances; they aren’t spring chickens either, and they’re glad they’re still gettin’ some. We’re not very acrobatic. You know the old story; what we used to do all night, now takes all night to do.

Anyway, we were all getting turned on by my tale, and Marge was looking at Molly with a lascivious gleam in her eye, a look that Molly returned. They stood up from their chairs, and began to undress each other. That turns me on, the girls know it, and they made a show of it. My clothes were going to be in the way for what came next, so they hit the floor, too.

By the time I undressed, the girls were naked, hugging, kissing, and fondling each other. I enjoyed watching that for a few moments, then went over to put my arms around both of them. They turned to me, and Molly slid her hand down to my crotch, whispering, “You better pump it up, big boy.”

Watching me do this was a turn-on for Marge, and I pulled back so they could see. Molly watched passively, but Marge was staring, as I slowly squeezed the pump in my scrotum to inflate the implant. I always had a decent set of equipment, though nothing spectacular, and the implant gave me a little extra length and girth. At least, my ladies were impressed.

Marge knelt down, almost reverently, and examined my hydraulic hard-on. She stroked it gently, and skinned it back. I was apprehensive because sometimes she goes wild, but this time, she began to mouth it gently.

Molly’s a bit of a voyeur, and she was breathing hard, so I reached over to pull her close. I was beginning to get some strong sensations now, so I said, “If we want this to last, we better get on the bed.”

My king-size bed accommodates all of us, and I lay down on my back. Marge got on the bed, and knelt between my knees to continue what she’d been doing. Molly watched with increasing excitement, then she knelt on the floor behind Marge to give her some attention. Marge jumped, and squealed, when she felt Molly’s tongue, and she really got into the blow job. I was groaning with excitement, and the gun was ready to fire, so I pushed Marge’s head away. She was reluctant to let go, but Molly’s ministrations had done their job, and Marge came with a shuddering, grinding orgasm.

We needed to pay some attention to Molly, so I pulled Marge up over the top of me. Molly followed her, and suddenly I felt her working on me, instead of Marge. I was on the verge of losing control, so I gently pushed her away, saying, “Babe, you better get up on the bed.”

The women were kneeling beside me now, and I didn’t have to ask what came next. There was a pattern to our lovemaking that had grown over the years, and I knew what was coming.

Marge wore a strained expression, she’s still conflicted about these things, but as always, she succumbed to temptation. She sighed, and slid over to squat above me. She was wet as can be, and I held my cock to stroke her pussy before I guided it in. She eased down to settle herself all the way, and sat there for a moment, head thrown back, breathing hard, her body quivering. I squeezed my pelvic muscles to expand my cock just a little more, and gently thrust upward once. That brought her off in another shuddering orgasm, and I almost lost my load. I held her hips to keep her from moving, and said, “Hold still babe, we want to make this last.”

Molly gets off watching us, but she needs action too, so I took her hand, drew her to me, and she moved to straddle my face. My nostrils flared with her scent, and I was on the edge again, but I breathed deeply, and concentrated on anything I could think of except what we were doing. Slowly, the pressure subsided.

The women were facing each other, Molly squatting above me, holding on to Marge to steady herself. Molly was eager, but I teased her, blowing on her pussy, flicking it with my tongue, and pulling my face away when she tried to reach it. The women were deep kissing now, squirming with anticipation, and finally, Molly had enough of my fooling around. She plopped onto my face so hard I nearly smothered.

I pushed my tongue into her and she raised up to let me breathe. I snaked my tongue up her slit, searching for her clit. She has a tiny little button that isn’t very sensitive, and I have to get my tongue into her clitoral hood and worm around it to make her react. Both women were squirming, and mewing like kittens, and Molly gasped as I nibbled her labia.

Between the girls pleasuring themselves, and the things I was doing, we were all heading for the cliff. Molly lost it, Konya travesti and began rocking uncontrollably. All I could do now, was flatten my tongue for her to rub her pussy against, then Marge started pumping. I’d been on the edge so long, I began pumping to meet her thrusts, and then we were there. We came together with a monstrous orgasm. You talk about the earth moving, I thought it had opened up and swallowed us.

Breathless and panting, we lay quiet as we began to recover, but each of us was still full of little twitches and quivers. I don’t know what’s so special when the three of us get together, but it takes us a long time to come down. Molly and I have talked about this, it never happened to either of us before. It’s all new to Marge, of course, so she doesn’t know any different, but there’s some kind of chemistry, or a synergy in our threesome, that makes it better than anything Molly or I have ever experienced.

Molly rolled off, and began kissing me. We were spent sexually, but the passion hadn’t subsided. At last, Marge pulled off, and I pressed the valve that empties the implant, to let my erection subside.

The women lay on either side of me, snuggling close, and we all began to relax. You know I’m no kid any more, and the post-coital drowsiness hit. I was about to doze off, when Molly raised up on an elbow and said, “You got any more in you, big boy?”

It was spoken like a challenge, and naturally, I rose to it, saying, “Give me a few minutes, and we’ll find out.”

“O.K., but don’t fall asleep on us.”

At that moment, I wanted to do nothing more than that, but I said, “Let’s go clean up and we’ll try again.”

We all went into the bathroom, and there was a lot of giggling and pinching and touching, and caressing one another with slick, soapy hands, as we helped each other wash up. Molly finished first, but I had to pee. Marge watched me. You’d think a woman her age wouldn’t find it particularly interesting to watch a guy take a piss, but there it was, another turn-on for her. Maybe she’s still making up for lost time.

When we came out of the bathroom, Molly was on the bed, on her hands and knees, smoothing the sheets. I don’t know if it was her intent , or not, but her pretty little butt waving in the air was like a red flag to a bull. A few quick pumps on the implant, and I was hard again, then a few swift steps to the bed, and I grabbed her hips and plunged in.

She squealed with surprise, but when she realized what was happening, she giggled, pushed back, and started humping like a wild woman. I met her thrust for thrust, and she came quickly and violently, then lay still for a moment, shuddering and gasping.

Molly and I have been down this road many times, but the scenery never gets old, and I knew how to keep her going. I pulled her to me, still buried to the hilt, and slowly swung side-to-side to make my cock sway inside her. At the limit of each swing, she gave a little grunt, and with each movement, the grunt got a little louder. She was increasing the pace, and I knew she wanted me to start pumping again. I started thrusting slowly, holding back as her passion rose. When I sensed that she was ready, I began slamming into her as hard and fast as I could.

She’d been face-down on the mattress, but as her orgasm approached, she raised up, and reached down with one hand to fondle my balls. She was thrusting hard, and when she was on the brink, I stopped, and held her so we couldn’t move. This was a tease that she loved, and I was able to stop only because I was nowhere near cumming myself. Her orgasm built with a lot of quivering and whimpering, and finally she went over the edge. When her spasms subsided, I slowly pulled out part way, then gave another quick thrust that sent her over the edge again. We rested for a moment, and I did it again.

She was usually good for three little pops on top of the big one, and that day was no exception. She sighed, “Oh Norm, that was so nice.,” and I began to withdraw slowly, teasing at the last little bit. She squeezed her pelvic muscles, something she was very good at, and the crest of my knob hung up at the opening. I continued to pull back slowly, and when it popped out, she gave a little squeal, and giggled.

She turned over to sit on the edge of the bed, put her hands around my neck, and said, softly, “You’re a lovely man, Norman.” There was a light of genuine love in her eyes, and I’m sure there was in mine, too. I did truly love this woman, and it gave me joy to give her pleasure.

Marge had been watching us, and her need was obvious. Molly nodded toward her, smiling, saying, “Do your duty, Norman.” I didn’t need to be told.

I lay Marge back on the edge of the bed, and knelt on the floor, spreading her legs, to put them over my shoulders, then leaned in close to nuzzle her pussy hair. I blew on her crack, running up and down , and she spread her legs wider, thrusting up toward my mouth. Her pussy opened to expose her İzmir travesti inner labia, now puffy and engorged with blood. Her clit was prominent , not like Molly’s little nubbin, and I knew it was sensitive. I was tempted to ravish it, but I tickled it gently, and she crooned and squirmed. She was about to go over the edge, but I wanted to prolong it for her, so I backed off to run my tongue around the outer edges of her pussy, while I continued blowing on it.

Then I was distracted. Molly knelt behind me, roughly pushing my legs apart. I knew what she wanted, and helped, while she put a pillow down, then lay on her back to slither up between my legs to get her mouth on my cock. She’s a real artist at this, and I was in an agony of anticipation now, I hadn’t cum since our first threesome. Then she commanded, “Norman, let that thing down.” I’d been so involved with Marge, I forgot that Molly wants me soft when she sucks. I obliged, and in a moment I was limp again.

I knew that once Molly got going, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on Marge, so I went to work in earnest, licking up and down her slit, first with my tongue pointed, then with it flattened. Each time I got to the top, I gave her clit a little flick, and she gasped.

She grabbed my head roughly, pulled it in to her, and clamped me between her thighs. My mouth was around her engorged clit, and with no thought of gentleness now, I licked and sucked her wildly. She shrieked as she came, and pushed my head away. She continued to spasm time after time, then tried to draw me back in, but Molly was into her work now, and my concentration shifted to the sensations I was receiving from her.

Molly has some wonderful tricks. She pulls my foreskin out as far as she can, takes my cock in her mouth and diddles the foreskin, gradually working her tongue into the opening to tickle the little slit in my knob. Her tongue is incredibly pointed, and she curls it and twirls it, licking lightly all around me.

She skins me back to get her teeth behind the rim, and presses my knob with her tongue to flatten it against the roof of her mouth, then hangs on while she pulls back to stretch my cock, and suck it full of blood again. The sensation is indescribable. I can’t say it’s either pleasure or pain, but whatever it is, my reaction is, please don’t stop.

She gauges my movements, and when she knows I’ve had enough of this, she maintains the suction, and draws me in all the way. Even though my cock is soft, she generates enough friction to bring me off, and that day, she gave me the most intense orgasm I’ve had in a long time.

When she was finished, I was too. I collapsed, knees shaking, and Molly slithered up, to hug me from behind. With a chuckle, she nibbled on my ear, whispering, “Yeah, old man, you’ve still got it all right.”

Marge was still needful. When she’s up, she’s wanton. She was repressed so long, I guess she never learned to control herself. I’m dumb enough, or have so much ego, that I’d kill myself trying to satisfy her, but Molly’s a balance wheel, and won’t let things get out of hand. She said, “Let’s take a little break. I think ol’ Norm has given us his best shot.”

We got up on the bed, with Marge lying between us, and lay quietly for a few moments. Post-coital drowsiness really hit me now, and I was going to sleep whether they, or I, wanted it or not. I felt Marge’s body stiffen, and I knew the only part of this relationship I really don’t like, was about to happen.

Marge doesn’t slide gently down from a sexual high, she crashes. All the inhibitions, and admonitions, and prohibitions she ever heard about sex, pile in on her at once, and she becomes a big lump of guilt, remorse, and self-recrimination. Molly preaches to her like a big sister, and always calms her down, but it’s painful to hear.

Marge started with a wail, “I’m so bad.”

Molly came back crossly, “Stop that nonsense. You don’t know how lucky you are. You’re alive, and vital, and you’re loved. All your life you did your duty like a good little girl, and you got fucked in the most negative sense. Your husband got horny every week, and jacked-off in your pussy, ‘cause it was better than using his hand, but he never really never made love to you.

“Now you’ve got two people who love you, and you love ‘em back. There’s nothing wrong with having some physical and emotional joy, and don’t tell me you don’t have it when you’re with us.

“So let go, and let yourself feel the love and the joy. Just thank your lucky stars you found it before you died.”

Well, I won’t go into the whole speech Molly made, but she preached like a Dutch uncle; or maybe a Dutch aunt. Marge calmed down, and as always when she got over her remorse, she was still horny.

I was nearly asleep, lying on my side, facing the women, when I felt Marge’s hand stealing down toward my crotch. I wasn’t ready for any more, right then, and I tensed, but Molly, the balance wheel, reached down, and pulled Marge’s hand away, whispering, “Our boy’s had a hard day. Let’s let him rest.”

I was watching through slitted eyelids, just about to drop off, and I saw Marge roll up toward Molly, putting her arm around Molly’s neck, whispering, “God help me, Molly, I do so love you both.”

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