Our First Time: Anthology of a Menage

by Jennifer O'Donnell

  Eric began by explaining that the plan involved a cruise on a yacht through the Caribbean. Wait a minute---he wants to know if I will go on a two to four week cruise on a yacht in the Caribbean? Hell yes! “When do we leave,” I asked enthusiastically. Then I asked a series of questions: Whose yacht? What’s the catch? I knew we couldn’t afford a trip like this, so what was the story and who was his client?

  Eric explained that the client was a billionaire property owner with assets all over the world. He catered to the owners of yachts or even sizable ships; people who needed custom homes next to the water where they could dock their vessels. Our job would be to focus on his properties and the layout of the land, take photos, and make sketches of potential future homes on selected sites.

  As an Architect, this appealed to Eric---he was thrilled! As a design photographer, I pictured myself in heaven, snapping shots of views the clients would have from the sites. When I asked Eric about the schedule, my jaw dropped! We would have to leave in less than sixteen hours on a flight to Florida? How would this be possible?

  Eric explained that pending my agreement, he had already contacted a house sitting service, who would take over. He explained that his secretary had reserved the flights, and opened a new credit card just for clothes along the way. All I had to do was pack a bathing suit, and a few things to get us started. We were packed and ready to go in no time.

  We had a great flight down, talking, teasing, and telling each other about all the fun things we would do on the trip. Upon arrival, a tall, elegant man approached calling us by name. We followed him to the launch, where he asked if we had ever flown over water by helicopter. We replied that we had not and he assured us that we were in for a nice ride in the clear, calm weather, and that our destination was not far from the coast.

  We took in the sites, watching tiny boats come into view on the horizon, turning out to be huge yachts as we flew overhead. We swooped by one of the building sites, which the pilot pointed out as a nice cove where we could anchor out the yacht and take a small boat back and forth to shore. Then he circled around the beach side of a nearly deserted island, and mentioned this as the place where he would pick us up for our return flight, unless Mr. Blakely changed the plan.

  We swirled around sharply, circling a luxury yacht so extravagant that it took my breath away. . The pilot said it was named the Navires de Mega, which translated as Mega Ships, and that it was a replica of two ships that had been combined. One ship had belonged to a Russian Czar; another one called the Dubai. It was one of Mr. Blakely’s first ship design projects, and now everyone else wanted one, so he stayed busy. Amenities included two swimming pools, one of them with a wall that opened to the entire stern of the ship, a giant sauna, a Turkish bath, two boat launches and of course, the helicopter pad. There are plenty of jet skies, a mini-sub. “You’ll love it!” the pilot boasted. Then oddly he mentioned that he was rather surprised that Mr. Blakely was taking on more projects, considering his present busy schedule, adding that something must be worth the trouble.

  Eric reached between my legs, smiled, and asked me why I was squirming so much in my seat. I was hot, and moist, and I had been thinking about fucking him in every one of the places mentioned. I was going to bring out the tiger in my man, and I had the best plan our first night featuring the finest act I could muster.

  There was an envelope waiting for us in the lounge when we arrived from Mr. Blakely. It contained instructions to make ourselves comfortable, have a swim, take a boat, or do whatever pleases us, and that he would be there to meet with us in a few days. .

  That night turned out to be sexually uneventful because we were worn out from the excitement of the trip. We talked.---I mean really talked with one-another until we fell asleep, making promises to try something, or experiment in a way that would make the other partner happy, at least once during the trip.

  We held true to the promises we made to one-another and I showed Eric some remarkable, spontaneous sex. I told him that if he didn’t let go of my pussy when we were in private, I’d make sure we’d have the time of our lives, and we did! I talked gently, leading him while he was eating me, or fucking me, and taught him how to please me on new levels

  .

  That first night, I wore the sexy black ensemble, and it drove Eric crazy when I bound him to the bed with the satin tie. I left him there practically all night, and sucking him hard, then sitting on him throughout the wee hours of the morning.

  There were the times I took him behind a small island Cafe, and made him eat me until I was so wet he had to fuck me. At one property, we lay in a stream, and I let the water trickle over my bud until I had an orgasm, then he fucked me atop the cool, smooth submerged rocks. In the hidden cove, we walked through caves, making love under the waterfalls, and in the pools sown below.

  Everywhere we went; we took photos of the sites and of course, of each other. Some turned out to be the most beautiful erotic photographs I had ever seen. We explored how we could enhance the assets of the property to increase aesthetic value for the homeowners. There were panoramic views that could be caught on video only to capture the truth of the land and seascapes. We made it a point to make love in every place we explored, and truly fell back in love with each other’s bodies.

  Eric came alive that week, and this had been my first now objective in taking the trip, so I was happy. I wanted a strong man, confident in his sexuality, and Eric came through with flying colors. He now often took command and willingly followed me into a splendid new sex life that I knew would continue to bloom and evolve.

  One day we swam from a privately owned beach property site, out to the yacht. We stretched out poolside to rest, got a drink from the steward, and ordered an upper deck dinner for the evening. I was taken by surprise when Eric turned the conversation onto the subject of a ménage a trois with me in the middle. Smiling, I asked him who else he had in mind, and where he got the thought? He asked if I remembered talking about my sex life with Austin some years ago, and told me it made him horny when he thought about it. Then he asked if I would be interested in repeating this adventure on our trip?

  At first, it kind of turned me off---it was a long time ago, different people and different place. Then, my twat leapt into a spasm and I lurched forward in my seat. I told Eric, to fuck me right then and there on the sun deck, and I didn't care who was watching. After coupling, we floated into an afternoon nap, our naked bodies, basking in the sun, glistening in the sweat of sex.

  I woke to the sound of a helicopter, and knew immediately it would be the reclusive billionaire, Blakely, whoever he was. I was not going to buckle at his first offer to do the job, but the fact that I had been caught naked, and tangled in Eric’s arms, was not what I considered as the kind of first impression I had counted upon. We scrambled to put on our robes, and took a nearby staircase down to our cabins. Then I put on my little white naked breast bra set, and cream-colored summer silk gown. Eric looked sharp in his sky blue shirt, with his sun-bronzed skin. At that moment I thought, “Yes, I have made the right choices in my life. I am a happy wife.” I took his hand and told him so.

  We were seated on the Captains deck for dinner, and the Captain himself sent us an engraved card with the handwritten question: "May I join you for dinner?” It was signed by Austin Blakely. Naturally, we answered affirmatively. We ordered a cocktail, an appetizer salad with virgin olive oil, and the fresh catch for our main course.

  Eric pursued our earlier conversation about having a ménage. I asked him if he knew the original meaning of the word ménage: A household of three. The word was only made into a purely sexual term when it was introduced in America. Eric asked me when I turned into such a sexual history buff, and I told him that he already knew that it was when I was in college, and admitted that I would like to do it again. The difference was that I wanted to do it with him, but had been afraid to ask. He told me that I shouldn’t have hesitated to ask. He told me that he had wanted his first time to be with me,
his wife. He pictured doing me from the front door, while another man did me in the ass. I was wet and wriggling in my seat just listening to him, and I asked him if he had someone in mind for the third party, and he said that he wanted it to be someone that I wanted sexually, and someone we could trust in our lives. He wanted me to be the one to decide who and when. Then I told him that when it happened, I would give him total control over me, and have him dominate the entire experience.

  Then we saw a figure approaching us through a lighted doorway and I could see the silhouette of a tall, slender well built man. Still out of my sightline, he extended his hand to Eric, re-introduced himself. "Hello again, Austin Blakely. I hope you remember me.”

  The look of shock on Eric’s face was evidenced that he was blown away. I didn't know what to expect, until “Austin Blakely” turned around, bowed his head to kiss my hand, and revealed himself as the man I had known as Austin Turner. Something inside me wanted to cry; I had the urge to run and jump overboard. I guess it was the fear of what Austin was going to say, and what Eric was going to do.

  Austin encouraged us to sit down, and allow him to tell me how all of this came about. He also promised that if we were not happy with the arrangement, we could leave on the next launch. Then he explained how he needed a couple to live in each home as it came to fruition, design it from the beach front up, and perfect it for wealthy, young couples to occupy.

  Then he dropped the ultimate bombshell! He looked deep into my eyes, took my hand, and said that he still loved me. He went on to say that I was the one who got away, and he had loved me so deeply that he only wanted me to be happy---even if that meant losing me to Eric.

  I began to cry, and looking at Eric, I said that I thought I had made my decision. He shook his head, began to kiss me, and said he wanted to love me all the way. I returned his kisses with all my penned-up passions for him, mixed with all the yearning I had swept away over the years, yearning for Austin. Then I reached over, pulled Austin to me, and asked him to be my second lover.

  Austin began kissing the nape of my neck, then shoulders, and down my back, as he unzipped my dress. Letting it fall to the floor, he removed my bra and my naked breasts were exposed to Eric who licked and sucked each nipple. He cupped my breasts, holding them out to him, while he nibbled at me, making my pussy throb with each nip, pinch, and twist.

  Austin put his strong arms around my hips, pulling me tightly against him. He rubbed his big hands over the bareness of my mound, massaging his fingers up and down each side of my labia, rubbing them together on my bud. He knew that always made me come, just as Eric knew biting me pushed me to an orgasm. I knew I was going to be fucked by both my men, and I was pulsating for it.

  Austin moved his hands around me to cup my firm, round tits and pushed me into Eric, so I was sandwiched. I leaned forward, and pushed Eric onto the hammock bed. Then I straddled Eric, and he began rubbing the head of his cock between my legs, lubricating my clit with pussy juice. Austin also dipped the head of his dick in my pussy, then Eric, and again Austin. I knew I was truly a shared woman, and loved it. They increased their depth with every prod until they were both alternately plunging deep into my pussy in a methodic rhythm of love. I told Eric to take control, and he knew what I meant.

  He looked over me to Austin, pointed at the olive oil, and said, take my wife like you used to do. I knew I was going to be double fucked, which sent my pussy into wrenching spasms, until I could no longer stop my orgasm.

  I watched Eric’s eyes as he watched Austin lubricate himself and the crack of my ass with the oils. His cock was stiffening even more as he watched Austin stick his finger into my hole. I clenched, and wanted to scream, but Eric took my face between his hands and held my lips closed with his. Soon, Austin had four fingers in my hole, and began guiding his enormous dick into me removing his fingers slowly. My engorged pussy and my stretched asshole were being shared; by the only two men, I have ever loved.

  When I squatted over Eric, I was spread wide open. Both of their cocks pumped me with force. I couldn’t stop moaning, and I wanted it to hurt me even more---it hurt so well! Austin told Eric that my asshole had the deepest, velvety, plush texture of any woman he had ever experienced, and he had attempted many trying to find one to replace me. He said that he wanted me for life, and he was keeping me if I agreed to have him. Then he encouraged Eric to come along, if that was my wish and he would teach him how to live a truly privileged life. The whole idea turned Eric on so much; he immediately shot his load into my pussy. It took Austin only twenty more strokes before he filled my ass with his massive love injection.

  The three of us lay back on the bed together, talking and laughing and discussing future property development. Austin asked me if Eric knew what ménage really meant, and then quoted what I had earlier explained. The coincidence amazed us because we had just been talking about ménage and had thoughts of trying one. Eric squeezed my hand. I squeezed his back three times, our signal, of ‘I love you,' and Eric told him we were both ready to begin a new life, and wanted to include him in it. Austin rolled over half on top of me, and kissed my chest with an excitedly loud smack, then grabbed Eric’s arm, exclaiming we should prepare for a whirlwind!

  Years have passed. Today, we travel, swing when invited, o own a smaller but exquisite yacht of our own that we use to entertain future clients. We introduce them into our way of life if they seem interested, and I have kept a ‘special’ diary, with pictures, videos, and a portfolio of our work and life. Don’t worry, all names are changed, but we continue to have a great time, and hope you might join us one day.

  Chapter 7

  Three is a Magic Number

  By Blake Reynolds

  Tom and I had been married for nearly eight years. We had met at the end of our senior year in college, so it wasn’t like either of us hadn’t sampled the delights of the flesh that were part of the college scene. When we met, sparks flew, both literally and figuratively. We were at an end of year barbecue and somehow we got together and started making out under a marquis. We lost our balance and fell over, bringing down a string of lights and sending sparks in every direction. Tom’s friend Eric came running up to help us. When my eyes met Eric’s, I almost forgot about Tom.

  I say almost, because Tom and I really had something special. Sure Eric was attractive and interesting, and to be completely honest I never thought I would end up with Tom. I thought the time would come later when Eric and I could get together and fuck, but that never happened.

  Tom and I graduated with degrees in marine biology and ended up married seven months later. We were both intelligent and very sexy. Tom was 6’2”, slim and very fit, with this wild and crazy, but adorable, brown hair. I never regretted my decision to marry Tom, but over the years when we saw Eric, I flirted with him playfully, and wondered what his cock was like. Tom knew that I would have likely fucked him, once upon a time, but he also knew that I adored him. He and Tom remained fast friends over the years and we saw each other quite often.

  The two of us lived somewhat of a charmed life. Because we both had the same profession, we were able to travel the world together and work as a team. We didn’t have kids, our house was paid off in full (a generous gift from my parents) and our only commitments were to each other. We had a fabulous sex life and kept in shape, which meant we still looked a lot like we did the day we got married. Sure my 36C breasts had drooped a little lower over time, but I actually thought they looked better now than before.

  One day Eric phoned to tell us that he had finally bought the little cabin by the beach that had been his dream. It was a small, two bedroom place that was big enough for guests, but easy enough to handle on his own. He mentioned that there was some fantastic diving out near one of the rocky outcrops (which very much appealed to us) and a small boat to get out there. We were welcome anytime, he said, whenever we liked. A plan was made that we would be there for the first week of June when the tides were small, the weather nice and the water clear
.

  It was more than 100 miles to the small town of Concepcion where Eric lived, but the Channel Islands were just 30 minutes by boat. We were looking forward to the week with Eric as we no longer saw him as frequently as before. I remembered Eric’s eyes, which were always smiling, his impressive biceps and those sexy little “V” lines just above his shorts. It made me a little wet just to think about it, because I knew that Eric had always liked me.

  I was also very aware that Tom wanted to try a threesome at some point. Unlike a lot of guys, Tom wanted to have another guy join in, because as he put it, it was all about my pleasure. There was absolutely no interest in guy/guy stuff with him, Tom wasn’t like that. He just wanted to see me get fucked and cum lots. He wanted to see me get DP. We had discussed a number of times during very naughty sex, but had never acted on it. I was shy and didn’t want my man to think less of me if he saw me devouring two cocks.

  We had both done it once before, previous to when we had met, both with an added girl. It was one of those experiences that we chalked up to ‘college days’. Both of our partners at the time were inconsequential and although I remember having fun, I don’t really remember everything that transpired. This was different; we were married, committed and very much in love. I knew what he wanted me to do, and even though there was no pressure brought to bear, knowing that he wanted this was pressure enough.