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It's Going Well

It’s Tuesday and I scrubbing out the bathtub with
Comet. I am not cleaning so much because I want it clean; more because cleaning relaxes me. An alternative to pacing.
Nail biting. Picking a fight with him.
Since I seem to do that just before we meet with friends.
It is good to clean the tub. The bathroom, kitchen,
the house, really. They are coming Saturday night. It need
to get the majority of the stress out of my system; I need to get the majority of the house clean.
I need to buy a new shower curtain. That’s the trouble with the clear vinyl ones. No matter what after shower spray thing you get, those clear curtains fog and cloud up at the slightest hint of humidity. I spend the day, going over the house, keeping myself occupied and trying not to think about it. Thinking about it makes me nervous. Cleaning is productive. Pacing, nail bitting, fighting...not so much. I clean and he walks by and gives me a smile or a wink while he munches on peanuts.

It’s Wednesday and I awoke with my period. Super.
He awakes to my swearing in the bathroom. He decides we
should tell them. I blink at him and say ‘Why? Were we
planning on playing’ He smirks. I need to finish what I
wasn’t able to do yesterday. I am cleaning out the back
bedroom. It is where I keep my clothing. It’s generally a
disaster, but I think we are going to need to extra bed. He
wants to bring up separate room play to them and I am not
sure how I feel about it. He feels watching me with him is
going to distract her. He figures it is going to happen
because it has happened numerous times before with another
girl. If she is distracted, he isn’t being focused on. If
he isn’t being focused on...well, he loses focus. They have
made no mention of how they feel about that. This is their
first home visit and I hesitate to mention it. I argue that
it would be better to wait and see if there is a second
visit. He smiles and says ‘Babe, if I lose it, how much do
you think she is going to want a second visit?’ Good point.
So I am cleaning the backroom. I strip down the bed,
vacuum, dust. I iron the curtains of the house. I saw on
Good Morning America that if you put fragrance in your
water in your iron, the smell comes out in the steam. I
decide to go with irony and use vanilla. Seemed like a
good idea at the time. The house reeks of vanilla. Smells
like a cookie factory. Vanilla and cleaning products. I am
feeling better.

Thursday and the stench of vanilla is slowly
becoming less noticeable. Maybe we are just getting used to
it. I have to go to work. I am still feeling frantic.
Frantic, excited, nervous, horny. My thoughts keep drifting
and I cut myself with scissors right in front of a client.
Its not deep but it is in the crease of my middle finger
and it won’t stop bleeding and I am embarrassed. I decide
that I need to concentrate and banish all thoughts of
Saturday night. I also need a band-aid.

Friday. Again with the working thing. I vacuumed
Thursday night after I got home and I most likely will
tonight. I wonder at how the animals are able to shed so
much and still be covered in fur. With as much hair as I
keep sucking up, they should be completely bald. After
work, we sit outside for a long time. Drinking cocktails
and talking about things. Fears, concerns, hopes, desires.
I have been quiet the past few days and I am ready to talk.
My nerves are becoming good nerves, excited nerves. That
seems to make him smile. Talking with him always eases my
mind. We seemed to get along rather well with them. We went
through the nervous smiles and awkward introductions and
launched into dinner and drinks laughing and talking; lots
of smiling eye contact and sideways glances. He was holding
my hand under the table and squeezed it every so often.
Sometimes it goes like that, smoothly, exciting and nice.
They are both incredibly attractive and it is highlighted
by their obvious affection and devotion for each other. He
wonders if she thinks he is attractive. I smile and
ask ‘How could she not?’ It begins to get colder as the
sun goes down. My period is about gone. We head inside and
get ready for bed. Brushing teeth, washing face. I walk
into the bedroom and he is lying on his back on his side of
the bed. Arm propped up behind him half watching me and
half watching the tv. I pretend not to notice. I walk over
to my side and strip down taking the hair band out of my
hair and crawl into bed. I snuggle up in the crook of his
arm just wanting to be close to him. His skin always smells
so good. Hand on his chest and he whispers ‘Hey Mama’. I
move my hand down to his cock stroking it to life. Lips on
lips, I grind into his thigh and we make love.

Saturday is finally here and I appear to be spotty.
Could be from making love last night. I brush it off. If we
can’t play, we cant play. But I really want to play! He is
up early for work and I get up with him. Last minute things
to do and my butterflies are coming back. Once more with
the Pledge, once more with the vacuum. I jump in the shower
and decide I will shave tonight. My legs are always more
smooth if I wait a day or so between shaves. I check things
out and decide I might even wax. Hmmm. If we should play,
how will waxing work? Will I be too tender? Will it
irritate? I head off to work and manage to leave for home
early. I log on to make sure we haven’t a ‘Sorry, another
time note’. I run through the house again. I make the beds
with sheets straight from the dryer. Clean sheets, clean
pillows, comforters. He had the day off yesterday and has
set the diningroom table and prepared the food for the
grill. He is a good man, an excellent host. I am still
keeping my hands busy when he comes home and jumps into the
shower. He gets out and I head in opting to shave instead
of wax. Mainly because waxing hurts and I am now pressed
for time. I throw on cargo pants, a tank and a sweater.
Super casual. I am not really spotting anymore so I tell
him I don’t mind having sex with him tonight, but no one
new. I can’t get comfortable if I am worried about it and I
need to be comfortable in order to have sex with someone.
Makes sense and he agrees. Of course, I wonder to myself if
I am just making excuses not to play. Damn nerves. I only
spot a little in the morning. By the evening, I am feeling
better and more confident.

We are sitting outside when they arrive with drinks and
smiles. We all head inside. Easy chatter and banter and
drinks being made. They are attacked and loved by the dogs
who are enjoying being fussed over. My man looks at me and
winks, and I feel pretty good.

We head outside to smoke. She bums one and I feel
bad that I smoke. I know she quit and I know how hard it is
to be around a smoker. He has brought a cigar and I hold
back the phallic jokes. Sometimes people aren’t ready for
my sense of humor. I sit at the picnic table with them
while he finishes grilling. We are laughing and carrying on
and I suddenly wish he would chill out and sit down, take
some entertainment pressure off of me. I am feeling his
absence and yet I know left to my skills, dinner would
never get done.

We sit around the table for dinner. Grilled chicken, corn
muffins, grilled vegitables. There is too much food left
over because we were all too busy talking. Life, liberty,
the pursuit of happiness, etc. I am feeling tipsy.

We head into the basement for a smoke. She is
sitting next to me and I am comfortable enough that I touch
her in conversation. Her back, her arm, her leg.
She is talking to me, asking me a question and I am distracted by her eyes. She mentions they are interested in separate room. What a coincidence! I look over at him and he laughs and tells them we were thinking the same thing. Works out well, eh? She and I head upstairs and into the back. She knows I used to be a dancer and thinks it is interesting and wants to try on something sexy. We decide we are going to get all dressed up and dance for the guys. Nothing can make a gal feel as sexy as nice shoes and something lacy.
We riffle through suitcases and drawers full of lingerie.
Lace, ribbon, silk, the bed and the floor are littered.
Trying on a few different things. I am being covert and
checking her out. She has a smoking hot body. Small breast
and great ass, long legs. My first thought is of him. She
is totally, completely his type. I smile. She is anything
but covert and plainly tells me she thinks I am attractive,
making me laugh. Her unpretentiousness, her openness all go
a long way in making me feel a kinship toward her. The guys
start harassing us. ‘C’mon ladies! Let’s go!’ I decide on a
cropped bustier with a rosebud heart pattern, matching
thong with rose bud trim and lace ‘booty shorts’ Black and
red. She keeps touching her breast and saying that they are
small. They are perfect. She is wearing hot pink and black
garter-skirt, bra and matching thigh highs and I feel a
total stab of jealousy that I can’t fit the outfit. She
looks hot.

My nerves are back. I am suddenly very shy about dancing
into the livingroom half naked. Oddly, I am more nervous
about my man than I am about him. I have danced for my man
before but there is something thrilling and strange about
dancing for another man while he watches. I take a deep
breath and she and I strut out, wobbling on 5" heels and
carpet. I am suddenly sure we look ridiculous. I grind over
to my man who tell whispers ‘Damn, baby!’ We kiss. I can
hear them giggling and I look over. She stands up and we
high five as we switch men. I am nervous and wobbling all
over him and hoping he doesn’t notice. I try and focus on
the beat and suddenly realize that I am completely turned
on. I take off my top and for a moment I am self conscious
of my breast. They are large and I consider them floppy and
occasionally, unattractive. He groans. His hands
immediately latch on and from they way he is licking them,
I am beginning to think he might be a breast man. He and I
start kissing. Touching. Through his shirt I can feel his
body heat. Hand under his shirt and I can feel it more.
From the corner of my eye, I see she is aggressively making
out with him and I am thrilled. Things seem to be going
well over there so I shift my entire focus to him. Kissing
his lips, neck, ears, hands under his shirt, running up his
side. Smooth, warm skin. I unbutton his shirt secretly
wondering if he has any idea how sexy I think men in dress
shirts are. I kiss his chest and smile while he mumbles and
moans, his hands on my breast. The thrill of the difference
and there is so much to explore. There is so much to touch,
taste and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I have and
overwhelming desire to taste, touch his cock. I unbutton,
unzip. He is out and hard. I pull his jeans down just
enough to put my mouth where it needs to be. Fully in me, I
look up and see him looking down, lips parted, eyes half
closed. My favorite expression on a man is the one you can
see as you look up into his face with your mouth full of
his cock. He pulls me up onto his lap and I see she has run
off with him. ‘When did they leave?’ I am amazed I missed
it and slightly annoyed. Are we swapping or just playing
around? Why didn’t we discuss this? Shall I be annoyed or
just get over it and assume he is having a good time? I opt
to let it go. I like her, I like the way he squirms with
her, I like him...fuck it. I am having fun. If he left the
room, he is interested in swapping. He laughs and
says ‘Awhile ago’ as he lifts me off and sets me down on a
corner of the couch. He kneels in front of me and takes of
my thong. I like the way the black thong looks as it slides over my thighs.
I like the way his hands look holding the skimpy fabric. His mouth is on me and I squirm out of the way.
I am not sure if I am ‘done’ enough for all that. He
is insistent and quickly convinces me things are okay. His
lips, my lips, his fingers. He is teasing me and I am
moaning. He is mumbling at me, his voice getting lower and
husky and I hear mention of cock being inside me. That
seems like a wonderful idea! Why didn’t I think of that? He
laughs at the way I quickly jump up and wobble in my shoes,
completely naked to the bedroom to grab condoms. She and he
aren’t in there and we realize we have the main room to
ourselves. I want to high five him again, but I decide that
might be more of a fully clothed thing. Probably not sexy
getting a high five from a naked girl. I lay out on the bed
and grab a condom and see he already has one. Man with a
plan. As he puts it on, I take off my shoes and listen to
the sounds she is making from down the hall. It’s such a
turn on to hear him make another girl scream and moan. He
is on me, kissing, touching and I want to see him
completely naked. Touch this naked body. My hands are on
his ass and my-oh-my what a nice ass it is. He is in me and
I gasp. The sweetest thrust is always the first.

We lie together afterward, smiling and talking. All
the awkwardness is gone. I can hear the headboard from the
backroom thumping on the wall, I can hear him and the
sounds she is making for him and I can’t stop smiling. He
looks at me and we begin again, finish again, panting. I
hear the backroom door open and someone running water in
the bathroom. Suddenly, I want to be with my man. To hold
him. She calls to me from the back and I jump up. Bare feet
on the hall carpet. The room is a disaster. She laughs and
tells me they just threw clothing onto the floor in their
haste to get into bed. I am happy, he is happy, she is
happy, he is happy and cannot stop smiling and laughing.
What a wonder. The bright lights make me aware of my nudity
and I slip on some shorts, bra and a top while I help her
find her panties. Given the amount of dedicates scattered
over the room, its like finding a needle in a haystack. The
stray pair is found and she dresses.

We head downstairs for a post coital smoke. We are
all sitting, still swapped. I am on the arm of the couch,
cigarette in one hand, the other rubbing his head. I
realize to a non-smoker my cigarette is disgusting and I am
self conscious of it. She is sitting behind him, giving him
a back rub. He has a sleepy smile on his face and it is
after midnight. We relax, digest and debrief and too soon,
it is time for them to go. Upstairs for the hugs and chaste
kisses on cheeks and they leave.

He smiles and asks if I had a good time. I did. I ask him
and smile more when he says he did. He takes the dogs out
and I make the bed. Blow out all the candles and gather all
the toys to the bathroom sink to be washed. We clean up and
head to bed. My head on his chest hearing his heartbeat we
talk. He is always strangely quiet afterwards. I am always
chatty afterwards. I cannot seem to stop giving him little
kisses. He whispers me he loves me as he squeezes me close
and lying in the dark next to him I know it to be true.

He has to work in the morning, so we drift off to sleep.

We spend the next day calling each other and
rehashing the events of last night. I am turned on by his
stories and frustratingly enough, I am home alone. I decide
to try and clean the back room. I barely make it in the
doorway and decide my day will be better spent lying in the
sun in an attempt to tan. I come inside for a drink and to
pee and I see they are online so I chat with him, we-had-
such-a-good-time, thanks-for-coming, let’s-do-it-again!
They mention they would like to venture out to see me at my
part time gig, cocktail waitress at the club I used to
dance at. She has never been to one. Turns out it is
Amateur Night and I tease her about getting on stage. He
arrives home and we are cuddly and kiss-y. I am overwhelmed
by him, I want him. We are making love and I ask him to
tell me about his time with her. That’s probably my
favorite part, afterwards, the stories. Watching his face
while his cock is in me, telling me about fucking another
girl and how much he enjoyed it. We lie there afterwards
excited to see them tomorrow.

I am running around work telling everyone that my
man and our friends are coming. I talk about the girls and
the managers a lot, I look forward to him meeting them. I
am bubbly with useless energy as it is a slow day. I am
chain smoking to kill time. Luckily, things began to pick
up.

Right on time, my man arrives with our friend and
her. I am excited to see my friend and excited to see her.
I rush past him to hug them both. He tells me days later
that this bothered him. I suppose I can see how it would
and I feel badly about it. Her man is to be meeting us here
later. She is excited to be there and I begin to think my
face is going to crack with all the smiling. He arrives and
I serve them drinks. The place is actually busy and there
are a few regular patrons staring at my friend and
her...the only fully dressed females in the bar. A few ask
me if they are going to be dancing. I tell them to stop
leering and I ask the girls if they are okay because it
occurs to me that this attention might get to them. They
are both alright and enjoying the show and I think are
flattered by the attention. I introduce my man to a dancer
that I think is absolutely adorable and since he rarely
comes into the club, I want him to experience a private
dance with a good looking girl. I whisper to the dancer
that dances are paid for and she takes him, blushing, into
the backroom. He comes out grinning afterward and needs a
drink.

The DJ asks if I would clean the mirrors that
surround the stage between dancers. I ask if I can do a
full set since my friends are there. Hell, why not show off
a bit? He says alright and puts me in the line up-just make
sure the mirrors get clean. I am nervous. My man hasn’t
seen me dance for a room full of guys that often and I am
afraid he might be upset at the total exhibitionist side
that comes out on stage. What if no on tips me? That would
be mortifying! Deep breath and music comes through the
speakers. I am dancing and shocked to see a patron sliding
up to the stage before my first song is done. I start
really getting into the music, into the crowd, watching him
and my friends at the table. She comes up to tip me; he
comes up to tip me and I am totally turned on. My set is
done and the patrons are clapping and I head into the
backroom and put on my street clothes so I can sit with
them and have a drink. I am sitting in between him and my
man and at one point, my hand is on his head on the other
on his thigh and it is weird. I cannot seem to touch them
both at the same time. My friend switches seats so that she
can be next to my man. I am having a good time talking to
him and rubbing his head. He and she have their heads close
together and it occurs to me that this might be awkward for
my friend to sit and watch. She is looking at me and trying
not to smile. I decide she is alright. Some of the staff
were there hanging out on their day off with a few
regulars. Getting drunk. They asked if I would do another
set. Doesn’t take much encouragement to get me on stage, so
I say yes and change out of my street clothes into a
naughty school girl outfit. Both he and my man seem to like
it. Again, while I dance, I am turned on.
This time when he comes up to the stage, I lick his ear. After my set, we go home.
My friend is riding with me and we talk the entire way home. It is nice that I can introduce her to this side of my life and not have her judge.

I arrive home and he asks me to call them.
She wanted to kiss him while at the club and he felt
uncomfortable because it was my work place. I suppose that
makes sense. They know he is my man, it might confuse them
to see him making out with another girl while he sits next
to me. Not to mention, making out in public is weird. I
call her and she apologizes. I told her I didn’t even
notice this was going on, please don’t worry. I personally
would not care if they did, but I can see why he cares. We are cool. I really like her.

Over the next week, I chat with him daily. I am
home in the mornings and he is online. He is fun to chat
with. I dislike chatting with people that type too slow, do
not have a sense of humor or cannot spell. He can do all of
these things so chatting with him is enjoyable. My man
expresses his jealousy over this. That I talk with him in
the mornings. I ask him why this makes him jealous. Every
chat is logged and saved and available for him to read.
Nothing shady goes on. He is concerned that we are forming
a relationship that is outside us as couples, their couple,
our couple. He says, ‘Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get over it’
and I am hurt that he feels the need to be jealous because
I think jealousy stems from insecurity and I feel that
maybe he thinks I am not going to be faithful. I am hurt
and offended that he would think I value our relationship
so little. How can my having another man’s dick inside me
not bother him so much as me chatting with him on the
computer? How is it that he chats with ladies of couples
and I am not concerned? What is the difference? He repeats
that it isn’t a big deal and assures me it is fine. Just
gonna take some getting used to. I am wary but I am still
chatting with him in the mornings.

We invite them over again for Saturday, wondering
if they will think that is too soon and afraid we will
scare them off. They say they would love to come over and
we are both happy to see them again so soon. He chats with
her Wednesday night with the camera on and I am feeling
saucy. I am sitting behind him on the couch painting my
nails and offering to give him head while he is on camera.
I know how much he likes to play on camera. An audience
turns him on. He is too busy giggling and laughing with her
for right now. He reads aloud snippets of their
conversation between typing, sipping on his 7&7. I am happy
to see him amused and I think maybe he really is over my
morning chats.

After a while he asks me to come over. He stands up
and I can see his hard on pushing the fabric of his flannel
pants. I kneel on the floor in front of him, sideways to
the computer. I pull his pants down.
He adjusts the camera so it is on me and his cock.
He is in my mouth and sighing and watching me suck his cock through the camera on the computer screen.
Chatting with her has gotten him so incredibly turned on, he is so hard.
I am touching myself and wet thinking of her doing this to
him, thinking of them watching us. His hand is on the back
of my head, holding my hair. I run my tongue all over his
cock, I suck on his balls and he says ‘Ow!’. I laugh and
ask for him to come to the bedroom. He says ‘Okay’ and I
wipe my mouth. From the floor I reach up and type to let
them know we have to go. In the bedroom and we forgo the
making love and have straight up, hardcore, hot monkey sex.
I want his cock in me so bad, I am usually aggressive.
Amazement that nothing makes me want him more than another
girl wanting him, turning him on. I look into the mirror at
the head of our bed and watch him fucking me from behind,
hand on my hip, hand pulling my hair and I imagine him with
her this way. He pulls out and splashes cum on my ass, my
hips, my back. I sigh and sink face down into the mattress.





End of Story