A Perfect Saturday

It was Saturday, normally a day my husband Jim and I spend together having fun. This Saturday, however, Jim said he had to run by work and do a little work for Monday. "Oh Jim", I said, "You know I hate it when you go into work on Saturday; you're starting to do this too much. This should be our day. What do I have to do to keep you home?" No doubt feeling a little guilty, he said, "How 'bout you come with me, honey?" " We can drop by Tom's house, and visit a bit. You can stay with Tom while I run into work. I'll be back to pick you up within an hour. Promise." "OK", I said. "But give Tom a call, and let him know we'd like to come by, and tell him to turn the damned heat up. The last time we visited him I just about froze my tits off". Jim smiled. I guess he was smiling because he figured I must not be too mad, or I wouldn't be joking about the last time we visited Tom. Our friend Tom is confined to a wheelchair. On our last visit, we had gone over to his house so Jim could clear the walk for him. But Tom wound up with getting more than just his walk cleaned that day. While Jim was outside shovelling, Tom was inside looking at my tits and masturbating to beat hell. But my husband didn't mind at all; in fact, he suggested it. We both have fond memories of that visit. So this trip into town didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. For more details on our last visit to Tom's place, read my story "Snowed In", which appeared on Solo Touch, January 7, 2008. When Jim and I arrived at Tom's place, it was certainly warm and toasty. Tom had even made us a fresh pot of coffee. So we sat and talked, reminiscing about the old days when we met at college. It was the fall of 1968, and we were all nave freshmen. It was in freshmen English that the three of us met, and it happened in a funny way. For our own separate reasons, the three of us were running late and rushing to our very first, early morning class, which happened to be together. Being nervous and rushing, none of us was paying attention to how narrow the classroom door was. So we ran into right into each other as we tried to get through the door. I was hoping to sneak in quietly without being noticed. Well, that didn't happen. We all fell to the ground as our books went flying into the air. Everyone's head turned to the door, and many people laughed at what was in fact a very funny scene of tangled bodies and books flying through the air. The professor said something to the effect that we were in college now and it was time for us to start acting like adults. But even he smiled at the noisy chaos our collision had caused. Being shy back in those days, I quickly grabbed up what I thought were my books and took a seat at the back of the class. Jim and Tom sat next to me, maybe because there were no other seats left anyway. It was the start of a beautiful friendship. Later in the day, I discovered that I had an anthropology textbook that didn't belong to me. When I opened the cover, there was Jim's name and phone number. When classes ended for the day, I called the number and told Jim that I had his textbook. He was relieved, since in those days he could hardly have afforded the expense of buying it again. We agreed to meet that evening in the student cafe so I could return his book. In what was to be the start of a romance that will never end, we sat and talked the night away. We saw that we were very compatible. This was the first time I felt that way about a boy. Shortly after graduating, we married. I've never had any regrets about marrying him straight out of college, even though Jim is the first and only guy I ever "went all the way" with, to use a somewhat dated expression for what in plain English we call fucking. When Tom handed us our coffee, and said, "I really enjoyed our last visit", it brought me back into the present. I suddenly realized just how much we've all changed since 1968. I'm definitely not the shy girl I was then, and Jim is definitely way less possessive than he was then. I still love being fucked by Jim. That hasn't changed, and I don't expect it ever will. "Tom", Jim said, "You chased about every girl on campus your first year in college. How come you never made a move on Sue? You were a star quarterback, and probably could have had anyone, including Sue." "It sure wasn't because I didn't want to!" he replied. "But Sue was your girl, and we were friends. Maybe, if Sue had picked up my black studies book instead of your anthropology book, I would be married to her instead of you. That would have been all right by me; but she's yours, and I respect that." "On that note", said Jim, "I got to run off to work for a bit. Honey, what you and Tom do while I'm gone is your business. I know you love me. But we're not the prudes we were back in college." He was right about that. I already felt the juices flowing into my panties. A strong sexual smell was pouring out of me that quickly replaced the lingering smell of the coffee we had been drinking. Jim was hardly out the door when Tom said, "Sue. I'd love to fuck you". "Oh Tom, Jim is the only man who will ever get to fuck me. Besides, I only like it doggy-style, and I don't see how you could do it that way". "Maybe we could try it modified doggy-style with you sitting on my lap?" "Not gunna happen, Tom", I said out of love and loyalty to Jim. But boy I sure wanted Tom's semen inside me. Tom looked a little sad, but quickly changed his expression as I began taking my clothes off. I tossed my now soaked panties into his lap. As I kneeled before him completely naked, he smiled broadly and lifted my panties right to his nose. "Man, you sure smell good, Sue", he said. His cock was now fully erect and ready for action. I inserted a couple of my fingers into my warm, moist vagina and rubbed my juices into the palm of my hand to provide some lubricant for Tom's cock. Then I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and began pumping, up and down but always staying below the head of his cock. Then, when I could tell he was about to cum, I leaned forward and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I didn't suck it. I still wanted to jack him off, but I wanted his hot cum in my mouth. And, boy, did I get it! Tom shouted, "Baby, I'm cuming, I'm cuming. It's gunna be a lot!" Then he let out a powerful, excited groan and the first blast arrived. It was thick, plentiful and slightly bitter, but very, very tasty. Three more shots followed before the action began to subside, and Tom said, "Baby, that was great. Better than fucking." I swallowed the last of Tom's cum, and leaned back only to hear the door open and Jim say, "I'm back". "You couldn't possibly have gone to the office", I said. "No, honey", Jim said; "I was driving to work and thought why I am doing this. Life is too short to spend so much time working. But I didn't want to interrupt you guys; so I just stood at the door until it sounded like you had finished. Then I came in. It was great listening to you two." As I started to get up, Jim said, "Stay put, honey". There I was, kneeling naked before Tom, his cock still with some life in it, but looking a bit tired if you know what I mean. Jim came and sat right behind me. One finger from his left hand went straight into my vagina from behind while a finger from his right hand came over my right leg and began working my clitoris from the front. Jim knows how to play me. For all you guys with small cocks, who wonder whether size really matters, think about the fact that a finger in the vagina can work just fine when you know how to use it. Chances are your cocks are bigger than your fingers. I could feel my face getting flushed as blood surged through my whole body. Tom was directly in front of me, and obviously fascinated by the scene playing out before his eyes. I felt vulnerable and exposed, but completely safe in the company of the two men whom I most trust. The sheer animal pleasure of sex never felt better as I totally lost myself in the moment. I began to sweat profusely as I approached my orgasm. I was moaning loudly when all of sudden I peaked and cried out, "Oh my God! This is too much." Jim withdrew his finger from my vagina, which had never gotten a better workout, and then he moved his other finger away from my clitoris. "Wow! That was something!" I said as my orgasm subsided and the waves of pleasure began to gently fade away until nothing remained, but a deep feeling of peace and quiet contentment. Seeing I was finished, Jim got up and moved away. Completely exhausted, I just sprawled out on the floor, thinking I had to lay there until I recovered and cooled off. "Tom, you keep your house too damned hot", I said, trying to make a joke about how I thought I must look. "Girl, there's no satisfying you", he shot back, no doubt referring to the fact that I was the one who asked him to turn the heat up in the first place. "Guys, I've never been more satisfied", I softly said as I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, Jim and Tom were talking how the world and our lives have changed since the 60s. I was covered with a light blanket and my head was resting on the cushion that I had been for my knees when I was kneeling in front of Tom and jacking him off. I was glad to be covered by a blanket because, although I wasn't in any way feeling ashamed over what had happened, I was feeling rather shy and modest after releasing every bit of emotion in me in front of these two men. "Feel better?" Jim asked when he saw me waking up. "I feel great. Let's eat", I said. "Tom's already ordered a pizza. It should be here soon", Jim said. At that, I wrapped myself in the blanket, took my clothes into the bathroom, and put them on. As we sat and ate the pizza, I couldn't help, but think that this old world, despite everything in the news today, isn't such a bad place after all. We've made progress. We are about to have a black president, and I, a white woman, just finished jacking off a black man and felt his warm semen in my mouth, and I did this with the blessing and encouragement of my white husband. The world has indeed changed. Tom has since long forgiven the racists whom crippled him when, on the sixth of July in 1969, the three of us were marching together, hand in hand, against the racism of the Deep South. I don't think we would hear today, as we did on that day, "Get your hands off that white girl, nigger or we'll break your fuckin' legs." I apologize for using this ugly word. I know that decent people don't use it anymore, thank God, except in a historical context where it must be used to capture the way things were. As we get older, we sometimes pine away for "the good old days", but there was a lot that needed to be changed in those "good old days". I am proud that my generation helped to bring about some of that change even if we sometimes paid a high price for what we did. The price Jim and I paid was nothing compared to the price Tom paid, of course. But Tom is not the kind of guy to talk about this, so I'm glad that now you know what happened to him on that day in 1969 when his commitment to civil rights put him in a wheel chair for the rest of his life; it was the saddest of our lives. Maybe knowing what happened even helps you to understand our unusual relationship. Tom doesn't feel sorry for himself, and Jim and I don't feel sorry for him either. If he needs a helping hand now and then, I'm happy to give it to him, but out of love and respect, not pity. Maybe you can understand that now that you've read our story.