22 comments/ 51947 views/ 6 favorites Know Who Your Friends Are By: Cleardaynow This story is about adultery and succumbing to temptation. It is also a story about friendship and love. The woman involved does not get punished. She does not get kicked out by an incredibly calm, wise and insufferably smug husband with a black belt in karate and no sense of humour or self knowledge. She does not beg in vain to be taken back. She does not end up destitute, destroyed and on drugs. In fact, she has rather a nice time. This is just a story. A fantasy really. +++ ANGELA We have got a bit of time. Let me tell you a story. It all took place fairly recently. Comfortable? Good. First, let me tell you a little more about John and me. We met at a party when we were in our early 20's. John and I clicked and, pretty soon, getting married seemed inevitable. It has worked well, extremely well actually. I can honestly say that John is my best friend. Our sex life is good, more than good. I think we've tried all the orifices that seem feasible. I've leafed through the manuals and we have tried anything that didn't seem totally ridiculous, disgusting or dangerous. I do remember that I was quite disappointed with the Kama Sutra. It seemed to consist largely of dozens and dozens of variations, where the woman gets on all fours and makes different farmyard or zoo noises, while being poked from behind. Unfairly, the man is not required to make any noise at all. One day, as I was being taken in that position, I thought I would try it - I think I bleated like a sheep - without any warning. The result was the end of sex and we both collapsed laughing. It was ages before we could get back to fucking. So much for ancient erotic wisdom. Anyway, enough of that. Let me get back to my story. John had met Brian about seven years back when they were both in the same company. We met his wife Kate shortly after and soon we all four became friends. They have stood by us when things have been bad. Brian has a superb sense of humour and Kate is extremely nice, one of my closest friends. I think I would best describe them both as being charismatic. People are attracted to them -- I am not talking of sex -- they are just likable. Actually, they are both pretty good looking. Kate has a stunning figure and Brian has nice eyes. For some reason they also seem to like us. We had dinner at each other's houses quite often. We have been skiing together once, to a small place in Austria and had a marvellous time. Sadly, six or seven months ago, they had to move to Birmingham, because of Brian changing his job. We were quite upset, though pleased for him. I was afraid the friendship would wither like so many - to the annual Christmas card with 'we really must get together this year'. As luck had it, John started on a project up near Birmingham. Brian and Kate were effusive in their demands that he should stay with them. Certainly it would be much nicer for him than staying in a dreary hotel each week. Of course, we had some trepidation, as it is not necessarily the same to be virtually living with a couple. Nonetheless, thanking them both, John tried it out and it went fine. It was nice for me too - much better than ringing up at a hotel. I probably spent as much time talking to Brian and Kate as I did John. John was usually up there just a couple of nights each week, though I remember one weekend he stayed over, as he needed to do some work. After a month or so, John rang to say that Brian was down in London all the next week, while John himself was only due up in Birmingham for the Tuesday night. "Would it be OK if Brian stayed with us that week?" Well of course, I was delighted. It would be so good to see him again and to repay some of their hospitality. I got home early that Monday and put a lot of effort into ensuring we had a nice meal. John and Brian arrived together. It was so good to see Brian again. He was looking as fit as ever and we greeted each other with a big hug and kisses. He brought a very expensive bottle of Burgundy, which helped the meal down. It was just like old times, as we cracked jokes and remembered things we had done and mutual acquaintances. John was a little quiet, but then he is not as outgoing as Brian. Towards the end of the meal, Brian complimented me on the dinner I had prepared and suggested that the next evening, while John was away, he took me to a really nice restaurant. I demurred, saying that it was not necessary after all they had done for John. Brian insisted, saying it was basically just his expenses and John had taken them out to several meals. John thought it was a good idea too, so I felt I had no choice but to give in gracefully. Actually, I was delighted. He'd suggested a really swish place I had always wanted to try and besides I'd always found Brian great company. Brian said he'd sort out the arrangements and ring me at work the next day. Just before lunch, Brian rang to say that everything was fine, he'd booked a table. He suggested I meet him at the restaurant, as he had to work quite late. We should both use taxis, so neither of us had to miss out on the evening. I got home early, had a shower and, feeling quite excited, got into one of my best dresses, complete with all the make up and jewellery. It was fun. I called a minicab and it deposited me at the restaurant within five minutes of the agreed time. Brian was already there, he stood up, gave me a big hug and kiss as usual and complimented me on how 'delicious' I looked. I felt chuffed. The food was divine, as was the wine. We had a fair bit to drink, without getting plastered. All in all, it was marvellous. It was super with just the two of us, we must have spent nigh on half the time laughing - when we weren't stuffing ourselves, that is. Eventually, the time came to leave. Brian wouldn't let me see the bill but it must have been hefty. The restaurant called a cab and we piled in, with Brian's arm round my shoulder. We drove back with my head resting against him and I was feeling so relaxed and dreamy. What a lovely evening. It wasn't that late, so I got us both a brandy and we settled down on the sofa. Brian took hold of my hand, very matter-of-factly. He said "You and John have been friends of mine now for several years. I like each of you enormously and I respect each of you just as much. Your friendship is something I want to keep at any cost. I am going to say something now that may deeply offend you but I must say it." I wondered what could possibly be wrong, had something gone amiss with John staying with them? "I would very, very much like to make love with you and I am asking you to do so." I was shell shocked. I know it sounds naïve, but I had not expected that at all. I just must have stammered "That's not possible" or something like it. "Why not" he said, with that smile of his. "You know why not. There's Kate and there's John. It's not right". "It wouldn't be hurting either of them. It's something to do with just the two of us. Look, I know it sounds like all the clichés in the book. But I love you very much. I think it would be very special and very wonderful for both of us. All I ask is that you think about it. The offer will stand. I am not going to push you or force myself on you. It must be your decision." I said nothing. I just felt so low. "I am not going to push you" he said "but there is one thing I must do". He reached across, held my face in his hand and kissed me very softly and tenderly on the mouth. That did something to me. I think if he had persisted then I might have succumbed. But he didn't. He sat back and looked at me, again smiling, "Well?" I must have gone through all the usual things, 'How could we?', 'We must think of the others' 'How are we going to face them anyway?' and all the other things I could think to say. He didn't argue. He just repeated the things he had said and told me how much he cared for me. Suddenly, I realised I had been holding his hand all this time and quickly I let go of it. Eventually we had to go to bed. We were both working the next day. We said good night very politely and I thanked him for the lovely meal. He suddenly burst out laughing and said how British we were being. I had to grin. That night I was in turmoil. I kept wondering how I could face John the next evening with Brian there. But I couldn't ask Brian to leave. It would be impossible to explain without it all coming out. He had kept his word, he hadn't pushed me. I couldn't bust everything up, throw everyone's friendship into the bin, just because he'd gone potty, probably with the wine. I kept worrying that he would come into my room and kept thinking how I could react. I kept imagining noises and thinking it was him. To make matters worse I was wet as hell. It would be so much easier if I didn't find him so attractive. I could not sleep. To help, I tried imagining John was there and I was just drifting off with a lovely fantasy, when I realised with a shock that it was Brian's face and body I was imagining not John's. I was dreadful the next morning. Brian seemed little better. I would have been so cross if he'd been as fresh as a daisy, the bastard. Before we both had to go, he spoke very quietly to me. He said he realised that it had been very difficult for me and he was sorry for causing me that upset. He meant every word he had said (damn and blast) but that in no way was he going to cause me or John embarrassment that evening. "Trust me a little, please" he said. The odd thing is that I did. We went off to work. I was getting quite reconciled to the situation and with coping with the rest of the week (very British again) when the phone rang. It was John. "How was dinner?" "Fine". John had to stay up there the rest of the week and would be back on Friday. I was aghast. How could I cope with just me and Brian? John kept on burbling about underwear and shirts and buying them or getting Kate to wash them. I was a damn sight less worried about his underwear than I was about the contents of mine and Brian's - especially Brian's. What could I do? "Fine, that's OK. Look after yourself". Sodding British. I arrived home, dreading Brian being there - we'd given him a key. He wasn't there. I felt relieved, sort of. I had a shower and got dressed in very simple clothes, plain blouse and long skirt. I was just applying a little make up, when I realised Brian was there behind me, looking at me. I smeared my lipstick and had to wipe it off, cursing. He smiled and held out his hand, offering a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. I had already decided it was best for me to behave as though his 'aberration' had never happened. So I thanked him and gave him an awkward hug and a kiss on the cheek. I went down, put the flowers in water and prepared some supper. We sat down to eat, making small talk. I rather expected him to say something but he just talked away as he always did, making jokes and being his usual good company. We put away the dishes and I tidied. I was just congratulating myself on handling it all rather well, when I felt him behind me. He put his arms round me and buried his face in my neck. His left hand, wrapped right round me, held me just below the hip. His forearm was pressed against my belly, sending out slithers of fire all over me. His other hand held my left breast. I groaned and, without thinking, arched my back, my bum pressing against him, my head thrown back. I turned my head, our lips met and I turned into his arms. Feeling his whole body against me, my tummy felt for that prick, that I had being trying so hard to ignore, found it and pressed against it. After some moments of sweet, sweet kissing he disengaged, stepped back and looked into my eyes. I felt unreal with a weird kind of warmth spreading through me. He reached forward and, still looking into my eyes, undid the buttons of my blouse. He undressed me, while I didn't move a muscle, except to step out of my skirt and panties. He stopped, waiting. Hesitantly, I undid the buttons down the front of his shirt, then, as he held out each hand to me, I undid the buttons at each wrist. I could go no further. I stood there naked while he took off his clothes. His erection drew my gaze like a magnet. I had not an atom of resistance left in me. We sank onto the sofa, I opened my legs. I felt his prick against the entrance to my cunt. I felt it press forward and I welcomed him into me. We made love, my memory of it is unclear. What I do remember is, as he came, I felt wave after shuddering wave enter me as the first troops of a conquering army. I had been ravished. I had now joined the ranks of adulteresses. Afterwards we lay entwined and I started to say that this was all a mistake and how we must forget that it happened. Before I finished, he had rolled on top of me and was inside me again. I held him, moved with him, babbled words of love to him. I remember that time much more clearly. After we finished this second time, it seemed foolish to talk of mistakes and forgetting. We went to bed, made love again. In the middle of the night we coupled a fourth time, spooning, neither of us cumming, falling asleep while making love. In the morning when I woke, we were curled up together and he was still inside me. I shifted slightly and I felt him slip out. Feeling deprived, I reached down and fingered him, marvelling at what I held in my hand. He grew, awoke and he had me again. The alarm went as we moved. We continued, he finished and we galvanised into action - both needing to get to work. Breakfast was hurried. We kissed and rushed our separate ways with only time for a few words. At work that day, I was in a dream. All the events of the previous night streamed through my mind, intermingled with thoughts of the coming evening. I had scant doubt that we would go to bed again. Vaguely, thoughts went through me that we would make love, then, once he had returned to Birmingham, I would say we must stop. Ha! That evening we had time. We did all the things that lovers do. Yet it all seemed fresh and new. At one point the phone rang. It was John. I was wearing Brian's shirt and nothing else. We talked. 'Was Brian OK? Was I looking after him?' 'How was Kate? Give her my love'. It was curious. I felt pleased to be speaking to him, happy to hear his voice. Very happy. Yet I had another man's sperm inside me and I would soon be aching for more. I loved John. When I put the phone down, Brian held me and we just sat there for a while. Eventually we kissed and it all resumed. It is Friday, Brian has gone and now I am waiting to see my husband again. Maybe I should have felt all sorts of things. Certainly I was nervous. I felt happy - and I looked forward to seeing John. I prepared food and then sat down to wait for him. I listened to music and thought about Brian, John and my situation. At 10.00 p.m. I heard John's key in the door. I walked to greet him. The adulterous wife goes to meet her husband. We embraced and kissed - lingeringly. I was genuinely pleased to see him. We chatted away as we ate, then went to bed. We made love tenderly and with great consideration. The next day was Saturday. Over breakfast I thought that John must surely detect the difference - but no. Thank God for men. It must be hell being a lesbian; you wouldn't be able to get away with anything. That was one of the best weekends we had ever had. It may be the fear of loss but I really appreciated John. We did things together and made love more frequently than we had for months, if not years. Brian came to stay with us that Tuesday. John was also here that evening. I had enormous butterflies but, as Brian had said, we'd have to face it sooner or later and it was probably better sooner. It was fine. Everyone was friendly and relaxed. Brian and I made no attempt to exchange glances or stolen touches. In the night, as I was fucked by and then lay beside my husband, I thought of my lover, in bed just a few feet from us. The next morning, John was the first to leave. That gave Brian and me a few minutes to kiss and hold each other, before we too had to go. Over the next weeks, Brian came down quite regularly. If John was there, we were all good friends. If not, then Brian and I were lovers, passionate lovers. Gradually I adjusted to my situation. Occasionally, I would stop myself and think - what was I doing? I was too happy to think seriously of changing. I continued to be surprised that John noticed nothing, until I realised that he too seemed different. He seemed light hearted, on air, much less easily bothered. I started to wonder why. His behaviour was so similar to mine, was the reason the same? If so, who? Gradually something dawned on me. I found myself thinking very hard. I had to handle this very, very carefully. First I bearded Brian. Did Kate know that we are sleeping together? For the first time in our affair, he seemed off balance. He hesitated for some moments, looked at me and said "Yes". I pressed him on whether this bothered her. He said "No, she was very happy for us both". He went on to explain that each of them accepted that the other had affairs. Given that we were all such close friends, he could not keep this affair a secret. As we went to bed and made love, I got the impression that he was ever so slightly apprehensive. Good. A day or so later I rang Kate when I knew Brian would not be around. "Kate, I gather you know that Brian and I are having an affair, is that so?" If I was wrong on that part, I was truly in the shit. "Yes, how is it going?" "Great, tell me do you TRULY not mind?" "No, I don't, honestly I don't. I know Brian has been very, very keen on you for some time. It is something really good for him. And for you too, I believe. You are someone I regard as a true friend. It may sound odd, but I would much rather Brian slept with someone I knew and liked enormously than an enemy or stranger." "OK. Kate, I'd like to ask you one further question. Before you answer, I want you to know that I am not going to be angry, whatever your answer." I paused, "Are you sleeping with John?" There was a long gap, then "Yes, are you sure you are not angry?" "I'd be a hypocrite if I was. Thank you for telling me, I appreciate that", which was probably an odd thing to say to someone who is fucking your husband -- British again? "Do you care to tell me any more about it, Kate?" "I'd rather not just at this point. Have you thought how you are going to handle this?" "Yes". We spoke awkwardly for a minute or so and then I said "Goodbye". "Goodbye, and, Angela, good luck." I should have wanted to scratch her eyes out for saying that. Instead, for some reason, it affected me deeply. It was a few days later, a Saturday morning. John and I were in bed. There was no great rush to get up. I turned to him and as I put my hand down to his limp cock, I said "Tell me, if you were going to go to bed with someone apart from me, who would you like it to be?" His cock started to stir under my hand. I ran through the names of some film stars and models. No reaction and his prick subsided slightly. I then started to run through the names of some of our female acquaintances and friends. When I mentioned one of my college friends, Mary, his prick gave a very definite quiver. 'Interesting, you bastard' I thought. Then I said quite casually "And how would you like to go to bed with Kate?" His prick went hardened immediately and I started to rub it very, very slowly. I held it with my hand away from the glans to reduce the risk of his cumming. I didn't want my hand or my plans messed up at this juncture. "Oh, so you want to go to bed with Kate do you? You are a naughty boy, aren't you?" He said nothing. "All right, you can sleep with her then. Do you want to?" Still no response. "Come on, I am giving you permission. Do you want to fuck her." I stroked him, "Go on say it." Know Who Your Friends Are Then, as though his teeth were being extracted "I want to sleep with Kate." That was it. His prick couldn't be stiffer. I thought it might burst. "There is just one thing, John, my lovely wicked little husband. If you are sleeping with Kate, then it is only fair that I go to bed with Brian. Do you still want to go to bed with Kate?" More teeth were removed. "Yes." "Then it's OK if Brian screws me?" "Umm." "Come on say it." "You can go to bed with Brian, he can fuck you." "Good, now there is something you need to do right now." I rolled him onto me. I opened my legs and let his fevered body ravage me. I wondered what thoughts went through his mind while he was fucking me so savagely. John had now just acted like a sheep being led to the slaughter. But then, from my limited experience with men, it is hard for a man to think clearly while his prick is being gently squeezed and rubbed by a woman. Perhaps I am seven kinds of a fool and cow - but how would you have dealt with the situation? John went off to stay with Kate on Monday, while Brian was coming here that evening. Nothing more had been said. As John left, I kissed him and said "Have a lovely time." "You too." That night I let Brian bugger me. He had been wanting to for some time. I liked it. When John returned on the Wednesday evening, I greeted him warmly and asked how it had gone. "Fine, and you?" "Yes, I had a very nice time, thank you. Did Kate go to bed with you?" "Uh, yes." "Thank goodness for that. It would have awful if I'd been the only one committing adultery." I put my hands on his shoulders, "Do you still want to make love with me?" "Yes." "So do I. Very, very much. Let's do it now." It was strange feeling his hands, his mouth his body, his cock. Knowing what each of us had done the previous night. Knowing that each of us knew what the other had done. I am sure that, for John as well as myself, thoughts kept darting back to our absent lovers and memories of what we had done. Weird? Perhaps, but I can tell you that was one of the most erotic experiences of my life. I loved it. I loved John and I loved the pleasure I was giving him. I loved the pleasure that thoughts of Kate were giving him. Over the next two or three weeks, Brian came regularly to our house and John to Brian and Kate's. Mostly we arranged it so that the two men were in different places. If John and Brian were here together, we behaved as though nothing had changed -- just a normal friend staying the night. Silly really but I think we were all too embarrassed to do otherwise. At the end of three weeks, I spoke to John in bed and asked him if that Monday had really been the first time he had slept with Kate. Big pause. He admitted it had not been the first time, then seeing I was not too angry, he proceeded to tell me about it. JOHN I had had no intention, no thought of sleeping with Kate when I went up to Birmingham. Sure, I thought her attractive. I'd noticed her figure - which is superb. That was all. You and I had said no less when we discussed them. In fact I was much more nervous of how it would all go with my staying with them. I was afraid I might be an imposition on them. Also, frankly, I was afraid that it might prove an imposition on me, having to fit in with them. My first reactions were of pleasure and relief. It was just so good and fun being with them again. Kate had done a wonderful meal to welcome me but made it quite clear that thereafter, I had my own key and would just muck in as things went. We all had a ball, talking away. I think Kate made references to her two men but I read nothing into it. Later, Brian went off to bed, wishing me good night. Kate came up to me and asked if I knew where everything was. Then she said how happy she was that I was there. She came and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, said "Goodnight, sleep well" and walked off. In the past we had always kissed on the cheeks. That kiss - no more than a soft peck - got to me. Still I read nothing into it. The next evening was certainly less grand. We had bangers and mash. When we went to bed, the same thing happened, except Brian was there. A quick kiss on the lips, not a peck really, softer than that but not lingering. The next evening, on coming home, Kate went and had a shower, then came down in jeans and a T shirt - and nothing else. I mean she probably was wearing panties but what she was not wearing was a bra. I tried not to stare and I tried to hide my interest. I was sure they both must notice. I went off to bed first, with a brief goodnight, to hide my embarrassment - and my erection. A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and "Are you decent?" I was, though I had only my pyjamas on. Kate came in "Is everything all right? You seemed upset." I assured her everything was in fact OK, stammering I think. "Are you absolutely sure. Is there anything you feel you can tell me?" "There isn't", I said. I certainly couldn't tell her about my very real fear that my prick would escape through the slit in my pyjama trousers. "I'm very, very fond of you, John and I want you to be happy while you're here. If ever you need to, I hope you will speak to me." Then she put her hand on my shoulder and gave me that kiss again, only it seemed to last a second or so longer. I might have imagined that. That night I masturbated over and over again, imagining myself having stopped her and thrown her on to the bed, instead of just watching her walk out of the room. I used my only handkerchief (I'd forgotten to pack any more), as I was terrified she would find stains on my sheets. I came back home to you the next day. I spent the weekend in some turmoil. The more I thought about it, the sillier I thought I had been. Not wearing a bra in your own house is hardly an invitation to adultery. I've been kissed, socially, on the lips by loads of women without that being an invitation to bed either. Still, my libido was well up and you got the benefit of that, though hopefully you did not guess the reason. I went back determined to behave like a grown up and not to end up a total shit by making a pass at my friend's wife. The week passed uneventfully. Nothing else occurred of note. I just spent a lot of time talking with both of them, particularly Kate. Thursday evening Brian had to go out and didn't come back till late. Kate and I just had a really lovely evening, talking about all sorts of things. I felt we knew each other much better by the end. When we went to bed, (Brian was still not back), she came to give me my kiss. I sort of half expected it to extend but it was just the same. In the middle of the night, while half asleep, I masturbated again - onto the sheet. I remember that blurrily I wanted her to see the stains. I was so ashamed in the morning and looked at the offending (or is it offended?) sheet. There was nothing I could do - and secretly I still felt glad, I wanted her to see it. I had to stay that weekend because of some work on Saturday and an important meeting on the Monday. We all got quite splashed on Friday. After supper, Kate went and sat on Brian's lap and nuzzled him. Again I got my kiss. That night I wanked several times. I did not use the handkerchief. When I got back from work at about 2.00 p.m. on the Saturday, only Kate was there. Brian had to go off 'playing golf or some such crap' and was away till Sunday evening. "Come on, we need to take your mind off your meeting on Monday." I only needed to do an hour or so's more work for the meeting and it was agreed I'd do that Sunday morning. After a late lunch we went off for a drive, then for a walk on the hills to get some fresh air. As we crossed a stile, I held out my hand to help Kate down. When she had descended, we were still holding hands. She gave me a great smile and said "I'm just so glad I have you for a friend, John." We walked on, initially not saying anything. That afternoon was one of those golden occasions when you don't ever have to say anything. And when you do speak, it so relaxed and easy. We walked back to the car. At some point we had shifted, so that we had our arms around each other's waists. We drove home, discussing whether to eat in or out and what to do the next day. It seemed as though the moment would stretch on forever. We ate in. We were both a bit tired from the walk. We had scrambled eggs on toast. Afterwards, we sat curled up together on the sofa, drinking wine. At one point, I started trying to say something. I don't think I knew what as I tried to speak. She just put a finger to my lips and shushed me. Eventually it was time to go to bed. It sounds naïve, but it came to me as a surprise. It was time for bed; would we be sleeping alone or together? If there was a point of choice for me, it had passed without my noticing it. As she reached up and kissed me, a long lingering kiss this time and very tender, I realised we were each going to our separate rooms. I felt I should demur or at least raise the alternative. I couldn't. I was too off balance, too unsure of what was going on. I did not want to destroy some bubble of happiness by awkward movement. I'm afraid that thoughts of you or of Brian played no part in my indecision. I did not sleep well that night. All through the night I would wake with prick erect and contemplate walking down the corridor and into Kate's bed. I did not masturbate. It did not seem appropriate. Next morning when I woke up and went downstairs, Kate was already up. She smiled at me, came up and greeted me with a hug and a warm kiss. The fevers of the night had passed. The sun was shining. I did my work, preparing for the next day's meeting. The preparation went surprisingly well. We went to a street market, walked around, finding each stall an occasion, an excuse to exclaim and mark our new found togetherness. We walked hand in hand, arm in arm or separate but aware of each other, joined by invisible lines of understanding. We came home. The mixture of my apprehension for the next day and the intensity of the moment pushed me into limbo. In the early evening we sat together on the sofa. The phone rang. It was Brian. He had already had more drink than the limit. He was going to stay the night, then drive home and change for work tomorrow morning. I could gather the drift of the conversation. Kate put the phone down. We looked at one another. At last something cracked. I reached for her. Our lips met and opened. I seemed drawn into the scent of her as our bodies coalesced. After ages and ages, we started taking each other's clothes off. The curtains were already drawn. There did not appear any reason to go anywhere else. The sight of her breasts, her nipples astounded me. She was still Kate, the Kate I had known so long. Out of bounds Kate. But instead of the hidden curves and hints, her lovely face, her arms, her legs were completed by everything sexual: the curve of her belly the sweet sight of her pubic hair, the outline of her cunt, her softly moving breasts. I was not focusing on these parts -- her breasts or vagina. I was focusing on her -- all of her. Now 'all of her' was completed by these wonderful things. And she wanted me. Foreplay. We had had weeks of foreplay. In desperation, we moved our bodies to get my penetration. The relief as I entered her. I stopped once I had plunged to the hilt, felt our bones press each other -- pelvic bones? Who knows? I only knew I could go no further and we were locked together. I stopped and we stared, gazed at each other's faces. She was so familiar yet now, shockingly, a wanton stranger. I could see, feel the desire in her. Then she smiled and everything changed. The lust, the desire were just the same but it was as though the sun had come out. We were doing this together -- with each other -- not to each other. I cannot describe how good that felt. We kissed, softly and a bit awkwardly and then we fucked. I came. I think she had also shortly before me. It was hard to tell. I stayed in her, not wanting it to be over, not wanting to face the things I knew would have to be faced. Eventually I slipped out and rolled sideways. She shifted up so my face was against her breast. She held me and stroked the back of my head, my neck, my shoulders. She was very gentle. Later, we grabbed some food from the fridge and an opened bottle of wine. We sat naked eating and drinking. By mutual consent we went upstairs and into my bed. We woke several times and made love or just held each other then slept deeply in between. When my alarm went off, I sprang up, torn between apprehension about my meeting and an even greater apprehension that Brian might already be back. He wasn't. We showered, dressed and breakfasted. When it was time for me to go, she held me close and wished me luck. My meeting went well, very well indeed. As the afternoon wore on, I had more time to consider the situation I had got myself into. I got the bus to their street. As I walked the last few yards, a feeling of unreality took deeper and deeper hold. Brian and Kate were both there. Both asked about my meeting. Everything on the surface was normal. Any oddness in my demeanour could be blamed on the meeting. Later, after my kiss, Brian and Kate went off to their bed and I to mine. I was thoroughly and unreasonably miserable, as I lay there thinking of the two of them. I slept. In the night, I groggily came to. Someone was whispering to me. I cleared my head, as Kate slipped into my bed. "What?" "Sh, you'll wake Brian. It is all right if we're quiet. He's a sound sleeper." I felt so happy she was there. We made love, urgently and silently. I fell asleep. When I woke Kate was long gone. That became the pattern of things. If Brian was away we slept together the whole night. If not, most nights Kate would creep in and, after whispered talk and love making, she would creep back out. I was too happy to think sensibly of the risks. Then after two weeks, I woke up to the sound of my alarm. I saw Kate's head, asleep on the pillow beside me. Along the corridor I could hear the noises of Brian getting up. Panic stricken, I woke Kate. She greeted me fuzzily. As she realised the situation, she shrugged and said "Well, it cannot be changed now. Let me deal with it." She padded naked out of the room. Perversely, I felt my prick stiffen, as I watched her walk out. I dressed, without risking a trip to the bathroom, and sat there waiting. I was ready to be flung from the house. I heard the front door shut and ventured out. Whichever one had left, I felt a lot more comfortable facing just one of them. Kate was downstairs. "Here, I've got you some toast and coffee. You haven't much time". She sat down next to me as I ate and drank. "Look, John, Brian will be late home from work today. We can talk when you get in. I love you and everything will be OK. I promise you." I felt as a fish must feel when it is pulled from the water. I actually had trouble breathing. We left together and I walked to the bus stop. I contemplated not going back there that evening. I thought of getting the train down home or to Scotland or anywhere. Instead, of course, I did go back there. I was actually the first one home. I waited nervously for a few minutes, till I heard the sound of Kate's key. She walked in the door, put her things down and looked at me. Then she put her arms round me and she held me. We held each other tightly. Eventually I asked "What about Brian?" "That's OK" "What do you mean, that's OK? He's just discovered I'm sleeping with his wife. I cannot believe you could have found an innocent reason for your being in my room last night." "Of course he knows, John. He's known for some time. You don't really think I could come to your room each night without his realising, do you?" I mumbled. I hadn't really thought at all. "Look, when Brian was off 'playing golf' or out for the evening, did you never wonder where he might be?" No, I had not wondered about anything much except her. "Brian has a lover, several lovers, actually. He knows that what happened was my decision. You did nothing I did not want you to. Wanted very much, as it happens. This is the way things are with us. If you don't want me now, that is your decision. I love you and I hope we continue as lovers and as friends for a very long time." I did still want her - on virtually any terms. Brian arrived later. I felt very clumsy. He seemed much as ever, perhaps very slightly amused. That night when we went up to bed, Kate came with me and we slept together. In the middle of the night, I heard her slip out. Much later she returned. ANGELA "And that really has been that", said John. He looked carefully at me to see how I had taken it all -- just how angry was I going to be? If I were going to be angry, I did not think it would be with him. However, I did not feel like letting him off the hook. Not just yet. I doubted if many men could have withstood Kate once she set her cap at them. And we had given her a very clear field of play with John. I had this picture of John as a Spanish bull trapped in the arena, with all those horrid sticks with barbs in his back, the blood running down his flanks, while Kate flourishes her cape and plays to the audience before giving him the coup de grace. No wonder I fucking hate bullfighting. My God, I was even beginning to feel sorry for the bastard! To be honest with myself, I was even quite impressed at how long he lasted, withstood. However, being honest with myself was not what was really grabbing me at this point. There were things I wanted to understand. What knowledge or even complicity had John had in my own seduction? Also, how did he feel when he came back to me? With some reluctance, John continued. JOHN It was odd, my mind and thoughts were all confused that first time I came home after sleeping with Kate. Yet I was just so happy when I saw you and thinking about her did not change that. I even had to stop myself blurting out about Kate -- as though you would be pleased too. Insanity. I broke into a cold sweat the first time that happened. It is difficult to talk about this without it sounding, or actually it being, self-serving self-justification on my part. I found that I loved you so much and there was nothing I could do to undo what had been done -- even if I had wanted to. So, I don't know, I just carrying on loving you. Only it seemed even more so. I am sorry, that is the best I can do to explain how I felt. I would not have blamed you then, I would not blame you now for wanting to leave me. I could not argue. I can only know, for myself, that with everything we have both done, I do not want to leave you. I do not want to lose you. "And my seduction by Brian?" Angela reminded him gently. Kate had asked me how I would feel if you went to bed with someone. And, more specifically, with Brian. I think I replied that it would have to be your decision but if you decided, that must be fine. Given what I had been doing, I felt in no position to be the indignant husband. Would I be prepared to give Brian the opportunity? I was concerned at what this would entail for you. I think she assured me that it would be persuasion not force. I agreed. Brian was coming down and it was easy to arrange that he was there and I was away that night. "How did you feel about that, John? Sitting there, encouraging me to go out to dinner with a man you knew would try to go to bed with me, to fuck me - while I had no idea." It was strange. I felt very mixed up. "Did it turn you on at all? Did you get an erection?" I was embarrassed now, very much so. Yes, I whispered. I was very, very turned on. While I was with Kate, I kept imagining him touching you and you letting him. Also I was afraid everything would blow up in my face. I went to bed with Kate and we hardly stopped. My thoughts were like a fever, obscene images mixed with memories of us. Know Who Your Friends Are The next day I wondered what had happened. Kate said she did not know. I got a phone call that morning from her, asking me to stay till the end of the week - she did not say why. I did so and rang you, feeling very foolish. I just blabbed on, I remember. As the week progressed, I became sure you had. I rang you and wondered if I'd interrupted you. Kate refused to tell me. She said that, if I wanted to know, I should ask you. I didn't dare. ANGELA We had both been seduced and with some finesse. Was I angry? Part of me was angry, more angry than I have ever been. Incandescent. Other parts of me just looked down at this anger with cool detachment -- with derision. I have said that Brian and Kate had stood by us. They had done more than that. About three years ago, the neighbours from hell moved in next door to us. They were worse than that and seemed bent on making our lives a misery. Confrontations, excrement, threats, vandalism and more. We later learnt they were trying to drive us out and the house price down to pick up our house for a song. We soon realised that, given the neighbours and our mortgage, if we sold we would have no capital and be in serious debt. We decided to stay put. We dared not leave the house unoccupied for a single night. It was Kate who stayed overnight with me when John was away and I was too terrified to be there alone. Some of the threats were of rape. It was Kate and Brian who house sat for us for a week while we had a desperately needed holiday. When it became apparent that the police were not going to do anything, it was Brian who set up the cameras and recorders -- including the ones that showed that the neighbours were doing something far worse than harassment in their own house. You probably saw it on the news -- yes, those were our neighbours. If we had realised, we probably would have cut our losses and moved but you just do not believe that kind of thing can happen in England Our other friends stayed away or gave us useless advice. We did not go to bed with Brian and Kate out of gratitude. But my reactions thereafter - our reactions - were definitely coloured by our past with Kate and Brian. I read somewhere that the two greatest pleasures in life are seducing and being seduced. Being seduced is the greater pleasure and it is something that can truly happen to you only once or maybe twice. However, if you have the skill and desire, you can seduce many times. I think it was put more pithily than that but I guess you get the drift. As John told me of his seduction, I became incredibly turned on -- and jealous of Kate. It was weird; it was like watching some hugely erotic film (not one of those ghastly men's porn films) and wanting to be each of the parties involved. I wanted to be John being seduced. I wanted to be Kate. I was so jealous of Kate because I wanted to be Kate seducing John in that way. I absolutely loved what John had told me. It was my realising this that finally decided everything for me. Later, Kate told me that they had both felt sure that this would suit us. They had even discussed suggesting swapping to us but were at a loss how to broach the subject. They were afraid it would all blow up in their faces. John coming up to stay was just too good an opportunity for them to miss. In truth I am not angry. I am happy. I have two men that I love. Their seed mingles within me, sending out tendrils of fire that warm my whole being. Perhaps it is a castle of sand that will come crashing down. Perhaps I am being a fool. It could easily have been pure nightmare, pure hell. It may still prove to be so. It is not easy. At times I get deep attacks of panic. It is a situation that requires really hard work on my part and by each of the others. But that is true of any form of relationship. We are who we are. I am content with what I have and who I am. I adore that John and I have been corrupted. I adore the people who have corrupted us. Things have not stayed static. Kate came and visited us one weekend. Brian was off with one of his other, recently somewhat neglected, lovers. Kate arrived early on Friday evening. I was nervous beforehand but within a few seconds, the two of us were right back together - with an added item of interest, two men in common. John turned up considerably later, I suspect deliberately. Tact or cowardice - who knows? He stood there with a look on his face like a puppy that is not quite sure whether he will be welcomed or scolded. Kate embraced him. We talked together awkwardly for a few minutes. Kate turned to me, "It's been ages since I last saw John. Would you mind if I took him off to bed now?" I was a bit taken aback. But, what the hell. In for a penny. "Sure. Go ahead." She took his hand and led him upstairs. I sat there, trying not to listen for any noise. Unable to concentrate on anything, I put some of my favourite music on. At last the two of them came downstairs. Kate looked radiant and just the slightest bit dishevelled. John looked sheepish - a look I was becoming familiar with. I smiled at Kate, "My turn, I think." I took John's hand and went on up. I was pleased to see that he had no problem in getting an erection. That night, John operated something of a shuttle service, both Kate and I sending him along to the other. Eventually, he pleaded exhaustion and went to sleep beside me. The next evening, Kate and I took our clothes off, then we undressed John. While Kate was kissing him, I licked and sucked his penis, anointing him for his lover, my friend. I watched him as he entered her. I watched each of their faces as they became lost in their passion. Soon it was my turn. I too have flitted between bedrooms and lovers in the night. It certainly adds interest to a trip to the loo. The downward spiral continues. I have been fucked by each of my lovers while the other fucked Kate lying beside me holding my hand. I have lain on the floor, like a bitch in heat, a cat in season and been taken in turn by two men, waiting patiently their turn. As each one finished, the other moved in and the cycle repeated, until I was unable to continue and I sucked and rubbed each of them to a final orgasm. I love John. I love Brian. But I have no doubt as to who is my husband, whom I will stay with. Brian is my lover and my friend. Soon, as new lovers come for him, I will see less of him, though I suspect we will always continue, both as lovers and friends. I hope so. The thing that has surprised me most is the depth of relationship that Kate and I now have. We are closer than sisters. I think this is the linchpin that keeps the whole thing working. We talk an enormous amount face to face and on the phone. Brian says that, when Kate and I are talking together, it is hard for him or John to get a prick in edgeways. I don't think men realise just how important other women are to us. If you gave a woman the choice between sex with a man or talking to another woman, most of us would choose talking to the woman, most of the time. Most of the time. John and Brian both have wondered if Kate and I will start 'girl on girl' -- and they are ambivalent about it. Neither I nor Kate is interested. I suppose that, if the two of us were stuck alone together on a desert island for six months, we would probably diddle each other but it seems pointless when we have the real thing -- in spades. The men are both quite wary about physical contact between them when there are three or four in the bed. I can never understand why men are so worried about whether they might be 'gay'. It's as though they fear that, at one touch of another man's body, they will magically turn into mincing queens. Men. Oh well, they do have their good points. I feel my marriage is sound. It has as good a chance of lasting as it did before. Perhaps better. I won't bore you with empty clichés of honesty and openness. But possibly I now accept all of it and not just the bits that I was willing to face. I think that perhaps all this should have been done differently -- agreed before the event. But we are here now and that is that. We have to make the best of it -- or give up. I do not want to give up. I panic and think how much more John must want and love Kate with her charm and fantastic body and who she is. John similarly fears that Brian outshines him. We both fear losing one another. Yet, knowing how much John wants and loves Kate, I would not want to deny him that or to deny her that. Anger is always ready simmering there -- anger at everyone and anger at myself in particular. I have seen how often people retreat into their rage and indignation as a dirty comfort blanket. Because there are things they do not want to face. A form of moral cowardice. I do not want to go down that path. We both succumbed to temptation. We betrayed each other though it did not feel like a betrayal to either of us at the time. We are flawed people. I will let you into a secret. So is everyone else. So are you. We did what we did. We had our train crash. We decided to stay together. Those were our choices -- not yours. You have your own flaws. Your own train crashes. Your own betrayals both by you and of you. It is your decision whether to face these. Alternatively you can run or hide. In anger, self righteousness or whatever you pick. Those are your own choices. John and I spend a lot of time reassuring one another. We need to. Oddly, Kate and Brian are similarly afflicted. Brian sees himself as shallow compared to John and thinks John far more intelligent. Kate laughs and tells me how totally besotted Brian was and still is with me -- and how insecure that makes her feel. She says that the fact that he really likes me so much makes it five times harder for her - even though that is what she would want and would choose for him. We have learnt that, when we had those neighbours, just how frightened Kate and Brian themselves were staying in our house. We learnt just how close they came to abandoning us. Do you think we think less of them for their frailty? They did not abandon us. I have also learnt just how scared they both were while seducing us. They were afraid they had got it wrong -- their feelings and judgement -- concerning us. They were afraid that they would mess it up. They were desperately afraid they would destroy our marriage and their friendship with us. It is strange but the two things that have moved me most about Kate and Brian have both been to do with their fears. I reckon there is one important thing about adultery. It is the same as with marriage. They both must depend an awful lot on who you do it with. Like in that film, I choose life. Also friendship and love. And, if you are really lost, kindness has to do. We get by. Before all this started, I told myself I trusted John. Nonetheless, I used to watch him like a hawk when we were in attractive company. I would monitor his reactions and those of the woman he was with. I was ever ready to move in, subtly and unnoticed by John. I still watch him and the women. The difference now is that afterwards I will tell him where I think the woman is interested. I advise him how to proceed. On two occasions I have assisted his passage into bed. For a long time I felt satisfied, sated by my two men. Then I began to feel stirrings. I had not forgotten his reaction to thoughts of my friend Mary. I had always rather liked her husband Simon. Possibilities and ways and means ran through my head. It would all take careful planning. SIMON Angela finished her story and turned to her companion, her audience beside her in the bed, "Well, darling, so what do you think of me now?" Simon did not know what to say, so he said nothing. He felt he had entered a different world. He was a quiet man. Solid. Steady. He was faithful to his wife. That is, he did not seek out opportunities and on the rare occasions when a woman had thrown herself at him, he had recoiled in alarm. This chance encounter, with the friend of his wife, had got through his defences. Events had unfolded. One thing had led to another, as they say. And here he was, in bed. He had regarded it as some windfall, standing apart from his real life, not changing anything. He had always seen Angela as friendly but cool, outside what was possible. But her story had rocked him, affected him as a turning key, right up to that devastating dénouement. "OK Simon. It is up to you. We can stop at tonight. Act as though nothing has ever happened. You have that choice. Or we can continue, if you want to keep me as your lover, that is." Simon felt the blood surging in his veins. "Only, there are implications." Yes, Simon was well aware of the implications. He could sleep with Angela again. But, Mary. He had always been aware of some chemistry between his wife and John. Nothing was ever said. Nonetheless, whenever John was around he always found himself assertive and alert, like some herd male, protecting his female from a threatening rival. He wondered briefly if that was the flaw that had caused this fall from grace, brought him to this bed. Yes he could have Angela - but the price. He could have her - but he would be accepting, working towards, helping the seduction of his wife by John. Or was it by Brian as well? He had grown giddy with the tale. Would that mean that Kate was also part of the offer? He had met her and remembered her as attractive -- very desirable. Was Mary already John's lover? God, no. He believed Angela. He could walk away -- even destroy her reputation, if he chose. Or he could accept what was being offered. He felt himself stirring again. He was appalled by what he had heard. He was appalled by what they had already done just an hour ago. That did not stop his desire from reawakening. Far from it. This evening was out of time. By giving in here, he was not choosing. He moved against her. She responded. As their bodies locked and shifted, seeking conjunction, he realised that choices were being made, options closing. He felt himself submerging beneath heavy, scented liquid. Abandoning everything he had fought for and defended, he entered her that second decisive time. He knew that he was accepting the unthinkable, gloried in it. Then, as his seed left him, in sweet relief all last illusions swept away. He let go.