Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2024 09:53:15 -0700
From: Boy Mercury X <boymercuryx@gmail.com>
Subject: The Chain of Marriage

This story is fiction, written purely for entertainment.

Copyright, Boy Mercury X, 2024.

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THE CHAIN OF MARRIAGE



1.


Michael was a guy I met through work, and one I liked instantly. My company
did some contract work with his, helping to assess some losses and to make
recommendations for improvements. He worked remotely, flying into town
every few weeks to be on-site, and we hit it off in the way you sometimes
do at work. There were times we'd look across a meeting at each other like
we were the only sane two people in the room. He was a few years younger
than me, about 35, a natural jock, and had a resonant voice and laugh. He
had that easy way some guys have of getting through life, confident,
affable and good looking.

We'd gab during lulls, and sometimes grab lunch together. We were both
married, and sometimes would joke about our spouses and domestic lives. He
and his wife liked theater and travel and food and the music of Prince. My
husband and I loved to travel and were into every cuisine, so we had things
in common. We'd both done well professionally, and both had overall happy
relationships, acknowledging the rough patches in every marriage.

My husband Rick and I had been together for 12 years, as many of those
years legally married as the law would allow. We got together in our late
20s, which I thought gave us better odds at long term success. We'd both
had some youthful misadventures already, and knew ourselves pretty well by
then. I headed up risk management and thought that way. Rick started an
artisanal bread bakery and ran the business, which was financially
marginal, but he loved it so he kept at it.

Though we were nearing 40, we were pretty damn fit. I was a runner and he
liked lifting, so it was convenient that we both prioritized time for those
activities, but nice because we felt no competition with each other. Rick
likes to joke that I'm not competitive as long as I'm winning, and he has a
point.

Our marriage was monogamous, mostly. To say more, I was content with
monogamy, and Rick conformed. As the years went on we had sex less often,
even though I thought he was still hot as fuck. To be honest, I sometimes
have a hard time being close to people, even when I want to be.

What seemed to take the edge off was to occasionally bring in a third
party, carefully chosen by me, to get Rick off. I think he enjoyed it, and
I tolerated it, thankful I could moderate my misgiving about the whole
thing by keeping some control. We agreed that it would be a person and
timing of my choosing, with Rick's okay, and we put some other rules in
place as well. I thought it was better to acknowledge the risks and manage
them, than to let them go unaddressed.

We did this rarely, but somehow it came to make up most of our sex life. It
was a weak spot for us, but honestly things were so good with us in every
other way, and it was so hard to talk about that we just went on that way.

With Rick's 40th birthday approaching I thought he might be feeling a
little squirrely. He had nothing to worry about. He was a compact guy,
5'9", boyishly adorable with curly dark hair and creamy skin. And he had a
great body, wth a beautiful chest and ass. I do like my T&A. No one would
guess he was 40, because he made 40 look amazing.

I suspected Michael's relationship might have some flexibility of its
own. He intimated to me that he'd hoped to get a little something during
his stay, so one day over lunch I flat out asked. He and his wife had an
agreement that they both could have something outside the marriage, but
only out of town, only with someone they didn't both know, no emotions
entanglements, and no talk of it back home.

I was reminded of Alexander Dumas who wrote that the chain of marriage is
so heavy it takes two to bear it, sometimes three.

"Well, if you ever feel like something different," I began, but stopped at
his startled expression.

"Jonathan, I like you, but..."

"Oh God," I gasped. "Not me! Well, not directly. My husband. Every now and
then I bring someone in for him."

I pulled out my phone to show Michael a photo.

"He's cute," Michael said, which was true. "Nice smile." Also true. And he
was impulsive, which I was not.

"Oh God, look at this," I laughed, flipping to a photo Rick had DMed me
about a month ago of his chest and flat belly with a ring in one
nipple. "He's turning 40 and I think he's a little freaked out. He just got
his tit pierced one day and this is how he let me know, with a selfie."

The truth was my feelings were hurt when he did that. He has such great
tits I feel a little protective of them. But I didn't like to admit to my
hurts - I have reasons - so I made light of it.

"He's really fit," Michael said, and I felt a little proud that he noticed.

It was extraordinarily unlike me to blur the lines between work and home,
especially on such a sensitive matter. But I'd run some quick
calculations. Michael was in his mid thirties and settled himself, not
likely to go rogue. He lived out of town, so if things got weird there'd be
distance. And he was straight, for God's sake, and had a wife. It was risky
from a work perspective, but no more for me than him, so we both had skin
in the game.

And if I'm being honest, Michael was just so hot. He was a big guy, a
couple inches taller than me at 6'1", and seriously built. You could easily
tell even through his professional outfits that he had a big chest and
shoulders, and an amazing ass. It seemed to me he and Rick could look great
together, with their size difference and their different complexions. If I
had to share my husband, it seemed I ought to get something out of it.

"I've never been with a guy, and it might be a little too weird for me," he
said. "But thanks for the offer though." He paused. "Jonathan, I have to
ask, this isn't a black thing, right?"

"What? No. Oh no. Not at all. I just thought you might hit it off and would
look good together. And I thought I could trust you."

All his life, Michael explained, he'd gotten propositions that he felt were
because he fit some fetish, with the whole "big black cock" thing, and some
gay guys' fantasies about being dominated by black men.

I tried to laugh it off, saying I'm really not into being dominated anyway,
which didn't surprise him at all. I'm well liked at work, protective of my
team, but I knew I had a reputation for a vindictive streak when crossed or
pushed too far, and he'd seen glimpses of it.

The truth was a little more complicated. Rick did have a thing for black
guys. I never thought it was a fetish. He was never weird about it, and was
never exclusively into black guys. I wasn't black, after all, and for
whatever reasons was attracted to me, at least enough to marry me.

Michael and I checked out, and it seemed no harm done. But as he was
leaving to head to the airport, he asked if I could send that photo to his
personal phone.

"The tit ring?" I asked, and he nodded.



2.


It was two weeks later when Michael called, and to be honest I was just
expecting to talk business.

"So I was thinking," he said, "about the other thing we discussed. That was
a generous offer. And I might have been too quick to decline."

I felt myself bone up at the thought of seeing Michael that way, but played
it cool.

He'd be in town the next week, and wondered if we could arrange something
for Friday night, as he'd be heading back home on Saturday.

I'd see what I could do, I told him, but I was certain we had a deal. He
was so good looking, and Rick hadn't had anyone in a long time. And there
was some special thrill in getting a straight guy which I'm not proud of
but it's true.

When Rick and I met we were both truly vers, and technically still
were. But by habit Rick had become more of a bottom, and me more of a top,
even though we both enjoyed it all. That was part of what drew us together
in the first place..

It was a little like how he came to do all the cooking and yard work, even
though I could do both and enjoyed them. He was just better at those
things, and leaned in on them. That's another thing about Rick. He could do
anything at either extreme. He was an amazing cook but also lifted like a
pro, and figured out how to remodel the basement.

And I'd be the first to admit I had no practical skills at all. I was good
at anticipating and planning and I could talk a good game, but thinking was
most of what I did. And if I thought long enough about a problem I'd figure
it out, most of the time. All of that made me pretty good at my job, but at
home I tended to the household technology and paying bills.

I told Rick about Michael over dinner, asking if he was interested. I even
found Michael's photo on his corporate page. "He's very handsome," I said.

"He is," Rick agreed.

His photo did him justice. He had a deep caramel complexion, a shaved head,
not due to baldness because he had a solid shadow on his scalp, and a very
light, trimmed beard on a good masculine jawline.

Rick didn't need a lot of encouragement. So we settled on a plan.

After his meetings, Michael came to our place. It was disorienting having a
work acquaintance in my house, having maintained pretty strict boundaries,
but it seemed a little late in the game to be uptight about that.

We had a light dinner, which of course included some of Rick's artisanal
bread. None of the three of us ate much, maybe in anticipation for what was
to come. But we had a good talk, some laughs, and shared notes on our
respective trips to Rome. But the whole time I was watching them size each
other up, feeling for chemistry.

When Rick went to the bathroom, Michael turned to me with a big grin.

"I'm in," he said.

"Good," I replied.

As we agreed, I followed Rick to the bedroom, taking a seat where I'd have
a good view. If I wanted I could jerk off. I could ask them to do
something, or to stop doing something, if I wanted. But otherwise the time
would be theirs together. I don't know if my resentment or arousal was more
stimulating.

Rick looked so beautiful to me in the dimly lit room, belly down on our
bed, head on his crossed arms and his pale ass hiked up. I was equal parts
turned on and anxious, but we were in it now.

Michael came in next, and took off his shirt and pants, setting them on a
chair in the corner. He was even more built than I'd expected, like a
bodybuilder almost, but with a bit of a firm, masculine belly, and a light
spread of hair on his chest. He slid his black boxer briefs down, and I
couldn't help but be impressed. He had a hefty dick, I guessed 8 inches and
change at near full erection, and big balls. I had to check my breathing as
he climbed into our bed.

These things were a challenge for me, and the hotter the guy I invited in,
the more difficult, because my arousal and anxiety paralleled each other
every time. Michael probably topped the charts.

Rick started by checking out Michael's hefty cock, first with his hand and
then his mouth, sucking it and covering it with spit to lube it for his
throat. "Oh fuck yeah," Michael whispered, caressing Rick's head.

I was quite erect myself. But I didn't touch myself yet.

Rick was a gifted cocksucker, and he shared his gift with Michael, working
his cock diligently, pulling Michael down on his ass so he could get that
big prick in his throat at different angles. He wasn't shy about gagging on
it, or the copious mucous it took to deep throat it.

"Jesus Christ," Michael groaned, like a man who'd not often had his cock
serviced like this, and I didn't think there were many who could do such an
able job. His caresses of Rick's head gradually became more assertive,
holding Rick's head down while he forced his erection into his
throat. "Fucking suck it," I heard him grunting, pumping his hips into
Rick's face, and I became worried he might cum when there was still more to
do.

"Why don't you fuck him now?" I asked, but it wasn't really a question.

Michael was reminded of my presence, and to be honest looked a little
disappointed to take his cock out of Rick's mouth. When he did, his big
cock looked meaty, and glistened with my husband's saliva.

Rick sat up, wiping his mouth on his forearm, and face to face Michael
kissed him with an intensity that took me aback. But I could see why. A guy
who hasn't had really good head usually is taken aback by the intensity of
it, and even guys who don't like to kiss lose it at that point, with pretty
big feelings for the mouth that gave them that kind of pleasure.

After a few minutes Rick said, "I'm ready," and turned around on elbows and
knees, ass up.

Good man, Rick.

I knew this meant he'd cleaned himself out, and lubed inside and out. We
agreed earlier that some of the potentially messy logistics might be off
putting for a straight guy, and we both wanted this to be pleasurable for
Michael.

But if Michael had any squeamishness, it didn't slow him down. He pulled up
behind Rick and slid his cock up and down Rick's crack, and then aimed for
his hole. He began the long sink into him, watching it enter as Rick guided
him with words and gasps, telling Michael when to go slow, when to hold and
when to go deeper. But as he inevitably would, Michael soon enough had his
full length and girth inside my husband.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, resting his hands on Rick's hips to begin a
rolling fuck. His cock slid nearly out and all the way back in with - for
him - ease. Of course it was harder on Rick. I could hear his moans as he
worked to accommodate the monster cock that must have been stretching him
to the core. But he took it, and I could tell he enjoyed it.

Michael fucked him at different angles, getting the hang of plowing a
muscular man's ass rather than whatever he was used to, and he was a quick
study.

"Can you get on your back?" Michael asked, but I stopped them.

"On his belly," I said.

I suppose my resentment was piqued, because as turned on as I was I was
jealous too. They were enjoying each other about as much as I was
comfortable with, and they didn't need to be face to face too. And I knew
with a bigger dick it was easier for Rick to take it from behind anyway. I
assured myself I was doing him a favor.

Rick got on his belly and Michael entered him again, faster this time. He
had a sense of what Rick could take, and was less restrained in giving it
to him. He fucked harder now, up on his elbows at first, and then as he got
more into it just on Rick's back, his hips slamming, all his muscles
working together like magic. I could hear Rick groaning, getting lost in
his prostate being pounded, like I thought he would in this position.

"I'm gonna cum," Michael gasped, and I began to work my dick, using some
well placed lube.

"Fuck me," pleaded Rick, sliding a hand down to his own cock, even as it
was pummeled into the mattress. Michael had that humping action going on in
his back, like dogs mating, and when I heard him call out, "Oh fuck, oh
fuck, oh FUCK" I knew he was cumming.

My own cock spewed, the hot white stiff running down my pumping fist as I
watched my husband get pounded.

Even when Michael was done with his load, he continued to grind into Rick's
ass who was working his own cock furiously. He spasmed and came with
Michael's semi still lodged in him.

When Michael pulled out of Rick his cock, even having cum, looked hefty and
inflamed. He flopped onto his back, covered in sweat, his breathing hard
but easing.

"Oh my God," he sighed. "That was... intense."

He ran his fingers over Rick's skin affectionally, and kissed him. I joined
them and for the first time kissed Michael myself. His tongue was strong
and aggressive in my mouth.

Michael left after showering, and we hugged him at the door.

In a freshly made bed Rick and I snuggled and spoke.

"That was amazing," he said.

"You looked beautiful," I told him. "It was so hot seeing him get off in
you."  It was all true, but not the whole truth.

I cupped his ass and felt my own cock stir and wondered about asking to get
in him, but he seemed so content already, so we slept.



3.


It was another two weeks when Michael called to say he'd be in town, and
could we get together again.

I understood by *we* he meant Rick.

I was uncertain. We didn't do repeats, as a rule. But the first time had
been quite something, and Rick's birthday was coming up. It could be a
surprise early gift. I fought my misgivings, and won, I thought.

I told him the time to come over, and this time I didn't suggest dinner. I
didn't see the need to feed him before he fucked my husband. That had been
a social nicety last time, and we could now get right to business.

I let Rick know I hoped he'd be prepped for a fuck when I got home, but I
didn't mention a guest. This was a little outside our rules, but when I
showed up with Michael, Rick seemed happily surprised.

They kissed and undressed in the living room, and I pulled my pants off,
taking a seat to watch.

Michael sat on the sofa and let Rick service his big cock. In the better
lit living room I could see even better how Rick worked that big veiny
erection, while Michael ran his big hands over his smooth pale back,
pulling Rick's head down to meet his thrusts, saying "Yeah baby, suck that
cock." It was unsettling, to be honest.

"How did you want it today?" I asked Michael.

"Like this is pretty good," Michael said, indicating his seated position.

Rick stood on the sofa, feet on either side of Rick and lowered himself,
letting Michael guide his cock to his slicked hole. He got the head in and
Rick continued to settle down on it. It took some effort, but Rick knew his
stuff. And they were at least a little more familiar with each other, and
could read each other's cues.

Rick let himself rest when he had Michael's whole towering cock in him,
letting his insides adjust and finding his best position to fuck himself on
it. Michael helped by thrusting up as he could in that position, running
his hands over Rick's body, and even grabbing at his dripping dick between
their bellies.

Michael wrapped his lips around one of Rick's pink nipples, sucking it, and
then the other, with the piercing. He darted his tongue around it, caught
the bar in his teeth and pulled lightly, making Rick gasp.

I cleared my throat. Michael turned to me, even while he was pumping into
Rick.

"Brother, you showed it to me. I had to."

I murmured and jerked my cock faster. "I want you to cum in him." I
actually was ready for him to be done.

Rick hugged Michael's head to his chest and let our guest thrust his
massive cock up into him, while Michael mouthed Rick's tit. I could hear
the clapping against Rick's ass increase in speed and volume, and then a
loud groan as Michael came, shooting straight up into Rick like a geyser.

Rick stroked his cock frantically. Already agitated by the friction between
their bodies, he came quickly onto Michael's belly and chest.

"Oh fuck," groaned Michael, near laughing between kisses on Rick's
chest. "That was so hot."

I watched as his semi slid out of my husband, lube covered and dripping cum
onto my floor.

I stood up and came to Rick's back. I thought his ass would be so easy to
enter, fucked and lubed and with Michael's load probably still hot in
him. I shot a volley of cum on his ass and back, while he was still on
Michael's lap.

I hadn't been in Rick for a very long time.



4.


I felt we were done with Michael, though of course I'd keep a professional
relationship. Once was good, twice was taking a chance, but three times was
getting into high risk territory, in my opinion.

I did genuinely like him, and I liked my life with Rick. There was no
reason to not keep both, if separately.

That's why I was so surprised to come home only a week later to find
Michael there, with Rick of course.

"I didn't know you were in town," I said, flatly.

"I thought I'd surprise you," he said, cheerfully.

"Well. I am," I replied, less than hospitably. "Surprised."

Michael wanted Rick to blow him again.

"I need to get better acquainted with that throat," he said, patting my
husband's face as Rick swallowed his cock. He must have been getting the
best head of life because he looked like he was going to lose it so many
times. But he was saving himself for some ass.

This time he fucked Rick on his back, face to face, my husband's legs
pulled back by his own hands as Michael humped into him, kissing him. It
was the first thing I'd said no to. And I could still say no again, in
theory. I could have called for no kissing at all.

But by now they had done this three times and the intimacy was there, and
I'd look like a bad sport. Or a jealous scorned husband, which I was.

Michael's hips whipped into Rick's ass, as my husband begged for more, and
I have to admit that for all my anxiety and anger, it was a sight to
behold. Michael was made to fuck, and I could hardly hold it against Rick
that he enjoyed it.

After Michael came he kissed Rick for a long time, while my husband jerked
off, and so did I, across the room.

When it was done I walked Michael out.

"Hey," I said. "I don't want to be weird about this, but I think this has
gone on long enough. I'd like you not to come over again."

"I would, brother," he said, clapping my back with his hand. "But that
ass. I'm not sure I could stop if I wanted to. And I don't."

I was speechless.

He got into his car, started it, and drove off. In my head I could hear him
adding, "I don't know if I'll ever be."

Inside I spoke with Rick.

"It's just sex," Rick said. "Which you don't even want to have with me
anyway." He was so wrong. "If it bothers you why don't you forbid it?"

Of course I wanted to have sex with him. Sometimes I'd jerk off thinking
about him, like some horny teenager. And I sure as fucked wanted to forbid
what was happening. But how could I admit to these things? It would be
admitting I lost. And to what end? If this is what they both wanted, I
could only frustrate their desires, not reverse them. And worse still, what
if I forbade it and it happened anyway? How humiliated did I have to be?

I could tell when I was in a power balance shift, having come out on top of
a few, and I could see where this would go, as clearly and inevitably as
striking a match results in a flame.  Michael would start showing up
without my being home, without me even knowing. They'd fuck, with Michael
getting more assertive, learning how far he could go with a muscle bottom
like Rick. I'd be marginalized, and the last remnants of intimacy I still
had with my husband would be snuffed like a candle being blown out.

When I was a kid the hardest thing about raising me was there was no way to
punish or threaten me, because there wasn't anything I wasn't willing to
give up. I knew even then that if I cared too much about anything I'd be at
risk. So the adults in my life could take anything and I'd surrender
it. But at long last I'd found the thing I couldn't give up, and I could
feel it being pried from my grasp.

"This isn't *just* sex," I insisted, not that sex alone was
inconsequential. I had feelings about that. "You're starting to have a
relationship. You have your own intimacy with him, and without me."

I admit that in the heat of the moment I thought for half a second of
hiring someone to beat Michael, or even kill him. Ridiculous stuff. I even
thought of fighting him, which could only end in me being the one beaten.

I'd been so cautious since childhood, and the one time I relaxed and acted
emotionally I invited every bad thing I'd feared into my carefully planned
life. And I did it without any influence other than my own arrogance that
I'd reached a position in which I couldn't be hurt.

I should have just held Rick. It's what he would have done. But I didn't
have his gift for the physical. I only knew words, so he responded in kind.

"I thought this is what you wanted," Rick said. "You invited him. You gave
him my photo. Jonathan, I feel like you baited him with me, but now I'm to
blame for it. You're the one with a plan for everything. What did you
expect to happen?"

Well. Not this. But it was a good question.



5.


I called Michael. I'd done a lot of thinking since his last visit, I told
him, and hoped he'd come over on his next trip to town.  As a matter of
fact he'd like that, he replied, so we scheduled something.

He showed up on time, as handsome as ever, and more comfortable in our
home.

We went to the bedroom, where Rick was already in bed, naked. I asked
Michael to have a seat in the very chair where I'd first watched him fuck
Rick's ass. There was a bottle of lube on the side table, as there was that
night.

I sat on the edge of the bed and unbuttoned my shirt.

"I think you both know I was pretty unhappy with things last time we were
all together," I said. "I've done a lot of thinking and there's a few
things I need to say. And if at the end of it, you two are a thing, then
that's how it is."

Michael was attentive, and Rick listened from behind me.

"First of all, I realize that in the way things happen in marriage, I let
some things slide. I used to love to cook, and now I don't even know where
we keep the flour. That became Rick's thing. And it was like that with the
libido in our relationship too. He's good at everything physical, and I
have issues. So I let him own that for the both of us. It wasn't a plan,
but it was a mistake." I looked at Rick. "And I'm sorry."

I stripped off my shirt. And I'm not built anything like Michael, or even
Rick. I'm long and slim, and I used to be so self conscious about how thin
I was that it hurt. But for almost 40 I look pretty great. I like my chest
hair, even the gray hairs that have turned up recently. I like my waist and
my flat belly. They look good, and I earned them.

"Rick, I know I don't say what I want enough for you. I never felt secure
enough to do that. But I try so hard to be a good husband. I put it into
work, mostly, and I know we like all the things that buys us, like our
house and our trips, and just feeling secure... your personal
trainer. Excellent work there, by the way. Please keep it up."

I felt like crying a little bit, but instead stood up to drop my pants and
briefs. I have long runner's legs that never fail me, no matter what I ask
of them, which is a lot. And I have a good sized cock that I've maybe
ignored of late. Just the same, when I get back in bed behind Rick, my dick
goes hard like a champion.

"And it's not your bakery paying for those things, because buddy, I know
the books, and the profits wouldn't feed a family of mice, especially if
you actually paid yourself like you should." I teased his hole with the
crown of my cock, tracing the lubed exterior and nudging just in and out of
him. "But we all undervalue ourselves sometimes, right? And I don't even
care if it makes a penny, because it's your passion project, and I love you
and I want you to be happy."

He turned to look at me, and it seemed like we were okay. Fuck, his
capacity to just accept whatever I threw at him was amazing.

I let the head press into him and begin to slide the rest in. I'd prepped
his ass myself earlier, and it's smooth and slick with lube. I glide slowly
in and out, letting Rick push back to get most, but not all, of my dick
into him. God, it feels so good.

I turn to Michael and say "This time you get to watch, brother."

It was distracting to talk while I slow fucked Rick's ass and waves of
pleasure washed over me. But I'm a good talker, when I need to be, and
there was a lot still to say.

"You're a fuck machine," I told Michael. "But there's a few things you
missed.

"Like the way you just showed up and got inside Rick? That takes
preparation, at least if you want him to take it the way he does. I took
that time while you were on your way here today. I lubed him and fingered
him - *Unf, fuck, this is good* - with so much patience and care I had
practically a hand up there, and he fucking loved it. He was leaking precum
like a hose, and I didn't even have my pants off."

I dropped onto my elbows to get into Rick from an even better angle for him
to buck up to my hips, fucking himself on my cock, or as much of it as I
let him have.

"Rick - *oh God* - didn't even used to like this," I said as Rick's ass
milked my cock. "He tolerated it. But one day we got into a fight, and when
I was make-up fucking him, he said it was like something opened up in him,
and it was like a straight shot from my dick to everything that felt
good. And he's loved it ever since. You could say I know where his buttons
are, *uuuuuunh*, because I installed them."

(I still remembered that moment vividly, and the way his mouth opened and
his eyes pleaded with me, when getting fucked turned really good, and it
was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.)

I turned Rick on his side, one leg under me and the other over my thigh. As
I fucked into him I could see his cock, about the same length as mine but
thicker, bounce against his belly with every one of my thrusts into him.

"You like that buddy boy?" I asked Rick, and he grunted his approval.

I let Rick roll onto his back, and took a break from fucking him to suck
his cock, which fit into my throat like it was tailor made for it,
swalowing him while I breathed through my nose. I'm a runner and have good
control like that.

When his cock was good and teased I spread his legs and pushed them back so
I could shove my tongue into his ass, which he always loved.  "Lube tastes
like shit," I said to Michael, my lips smeared with it. "But the ass is
fantastic."

I pushed my cock into him again, pulled out and slid in again a few times
to whet his desire for more, and he was just about where I wanted.

"Rick had to jerk off every time you were with him, and there's nothing
wrong with that," I said, noting that Michael had unzipped and was doing
just that, with his magnificent beautiful cock. "But... well, let me show
you.."

I started pounding harder. Rick's groans and writhing hips told me I was on
target, so I took his hands and pinned them up over his head, away from his
own erection, and gave him most of my mine, watching his cock oozing precum
bounce against his belly.

"The thing is, you're a piledriver, which I'm not - *uuunh* - but I do have
some - *fuck I'm close* - finesse."

I spied a strand of milky white in Rick's precum, like one of those glass
marbles, and I knew he was ready. I finally gave him that extra inch I'd
been holding back, that his ass maybe forgot I had. But I did. And trust
me, when I hit his prostate he *felt* it. I flooded his ass with my load as
my dick fucked a load of hot cum out of him, from deep in his ass, through
his cock and onto his chest and belly, his hands locked in my grip above
his head.

So yeah, I do withhold part of myself, probably too often. But in the end
I'm there 100%.

I gave Rick a slow grind, kissing him until his hands-free cum had all been
sapped out. He's a great kisser, which maybe I don't say enough, because
his tit and ass game is so strong.

I turned to see Michael pumping his cock, and Jesus Christ, he looked so
good. It was no wonder I was so into him. He jerked out a load that poured
over his fist and down his balls.

I pulled out of Rick and grabbed the towels I'd laid out in anticipation. I
used one myself and tossed another to Rick, to wipe off. And then I sat
again on the edge of the bed, between them.

"I'm glad you enjoyed that," I said. "But we all need to get a few things
straight.

"This whole thing got out of hand, and that's on me, not on either of
you. I invited it, I allowed it. I gave you both every reason to think it
was acceptable enough to me to put up with. But it's not."

I turned to my husband first.

"Rick, I let you think I didn't want you. But I do. Sometimes I want to
fuck you so bad I can hardly think straight, and I wait for it to
pass. It's not that I don't want you, it's that it's so big and scary how
much I do that all I can do to protect myself is shy away from it. So I
really fucked that up. I'm so sorry.

"I love you so much, and if you want an open relationship I guess you can
find one. But it's not going to be with me. My heart's just not built for
it. I can do more to be a better husband, but I can't do that, and I
won't. And this thing here with the three of us is done, now, at least my
part in it is."

Rick curled up behind me and rested his head on my back. He could always
say so much more with a touch than I could with all my words. We'd have a
lot to sort out later, but at least I told him how I felt.

I turned to face Michael.

"And Michael. I like you. I genuinely do. And I owe you some apologies.

"I think maybe I invited you in because I needed something to shake me out
of my complacency. Or because I had a thing for you - still do, to be
honest - so I have to own that. I let Rick be the proxy for my desire, and
then I felt excluded by my own design. And maybe I did have some `big black
cock' thing. I hope not, but I'm as messed up as anyone. Usually more. So
for however I used you, consciously or not, I'm truly sorry.

"But also, if you ever disrespect me or my family again in my own home, I
will retaliate.

"I could tell you that I've identified every error you and your team have
made that have cost your employer millions. It's ordinary shit, you
actually do a great job. But I can paint a picture that will make your job
obsolete faster than you can blink. I could tell you I'll be talking with
your wife, because no matter what your arrangement is, I don't think she'd
be too okay with you having regular helpings of the best ass on the west
coast."

I reached behind me, to pat Rick.

"I have other ideas too. Contingencies on contingencies that I won't even
warn you about, in case I ever need them. But I don't want to do any of
those things. I'm so, so tired of even thinking of them.

"But the point is, if you try to take anything from me that I care about, I
will fight you, and I will win.

"I'd rather we just be men about it. And maybe friends. I'd like us to have
a little grace."

Michael nodded. "Fair enough."

He agreed things had just gotten out of hand. I could see how. He's just a
person and he had his own shit to work out too, just like me. But we were
good. All three of us.

There was one more thing I figured out that I couldn't quite say that
night.

This is the thing about sex, for me.

I know other guys can just have it and move on. Hell, Michael said he
couldn't give up Rick's ass, but then he did, without even a fight. I'm not
made that way.

There are so many guys like Michael who are so hot I could put my head
through a wall just to dull my desire. And I want every one of them to want
me too. But I'm a man, not a boy, and I can choose what's in me that I
yield to and what I don't.

For me sexual intimacy is incendiary. It's like you strike a match and have
this little flame, and it's kind of a miracle it's there at all. But if
you're not careful it can burn your house down. Or if you forget to feed it
it can go out forever. It's too dangerous and too precious at the same
time. If it wasn't both of those things, it wouldn't matter so much.

It's so overwhelming it makes my heart hurt sometimes. But I still want the
flame, even with all the risks. And despite my many screw ups, I want to
protect and nurture it, so it can keep us both safe and warm in our home,
which, for me, is where it belongs.

Maybe I'll find a way to say this to Rick. Or maybe he'll find this someday
and read it himself.


* END -