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Menage a trois? Moi?

Not long ago I received a reply to a posting indicating an interest in getting together for an hour of fun and frolic.  There were three noteworthy aspects to this communication.  The first was that the respondent was a woman.  Not that I have anything against plying my trade with members of my own gender, but it is certainly the exception and not the rule.  Second, the lady in question said she wished to bring her husband along.  Again, I have nothing against a group roll in the hay but it is certainly not the norm.  And finally she said that, although her hubby would be attending the festivities, he wouldn’t be indulging in any of the activities.  And, by the way, if I could supply a length of rope and a straight-backed wooden chair that would be a big plus.

I responded by saying his presence, whether or not he played with either of us, would constitute a special circumstance and as such would cost extra.  She said she understood and had no problem paying extra but added that under no conditions would he be allowed to touch, taste or tamper with the goods.  You can imagine I was intrigued by this request.  I figured he’d gotten into hot water at home and this was her form of punishment for his offensive behavior.  Hey, I’m neither a paragon of virtue nor a particularly judgmental person.  Whatever folks do to get through the day is okay by me as long as it doesn’t ruffle my feathers and it contributes to my college fund.

They appeared on the threshold of my hotel room precisely on time and she proceeded to strip the miscreant nude and rope him firmly to the chair, hands behind his back and his poor excuse for a cock dangling over the edge of the seat.  He had such a hang dog look I almost began to feel sorry for him but then I noticed she had already disrobed and was sitting buck naked on the bed with a big grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye.  I quickly slipped out of my own clothes and joined her in what turned out to be one of the more memorable slap and tickle sessions I have enjoyed in years and the dejected creature tied to the chair was soon forgotten.  It was only later that I glanced up from my grazing duties at the Y and realized he was getting off on our Sapphic behavior.  His bedraggled cock had sprung to life and was waving happily in my direction.  His body suddenly tensed against the chafing rope and with an abrupt quiver he shot his wad a good three feet across the room.  With that my female companion lifted my face from her abundant fur, kissed me firmly on the mouth and thanked me for a job well done.

They’ve never called again since that lovely forty-five minute bizarre encounter.  I often find myself reflecting on that session and hoping they get back in touch.  Hell, I’d even be willing to forgo the special circumstances fee.  My college fund is full to overflowing anyhow.

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