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I gasped. My hands automatically went up to my face. “You did—”
“Shh! Let a man do as he pleases when he’s trying to woo a beautiful woman back into his life.” Tony handed the box to me.
My hands shook as I opened the velvet box. Inside was a beautiful diamond necklace and matching chandelier earrings. “I know this had to have cost a small fortune.” I ran my fingers across the glittery diamonds.
“Well, are you going to drool all over it and ask about the price or are you going to allow me to put it on you?”
I turned and raised my hair up so he could place the necklace around my neck. I let my hair down and tears escaped from my eyes. “This is absolutely beautiful.” I sniffed.
“Not as beautiful as you are. I love my wife. I mean…she’s the mother of my kids; but you…you are the love of my life, Bianca.”
I dabbed at my eyes as I placed the earrings in my ears. Tony placed a mirror in my lap for me to admire my gifts.
“Tony, I swear if I had it to do all over again…I’d—”
He stopped me with another tender kiss. The limo stopped in front of my house. I felt like Cinderella minus the two ugly stepsisters.
He cupped my face in his hands before giving me one last kiss. “Let’s not dwell on what should have been but what will be…until next time.” Tony caressed my chin lovingly while staring deep into my emerald green eyes.
The door was opened by the chauffeur. As he helped me out, I glanced back at Tony. The tears continued to fall. “Here’s to what will be.” I blew a kiss at him and hurriedly went inside my house before I broke down. I couldn’t bear to see him being driven away from me into another woman’s waiting arms that should have been mine.
“I’m the love of his life,” I said, dabbing at my tears and wishing I could go back five years to that day in Paris when Tony had proposed to me. This would be a night I would never forget. I touched the diamond necklace and leaned up against the door, thinking, If only.
Three Is Never a Crowd
Lotus Falcon
So call it a midlife crisis or whatever you want to call it, but I like to refer to it as a midlife revolution. I answered an ad for a couple seeking a young single woman who was open to having sex with clean, middle-aged, married swingers. So what if I wasn’t young or single, I was open to having sex with clean, middle-aged swingers. Besides, I couldn’t really believe everything in an advertisement any more than they could about me. I figured we could check each other out and roll from there.
After calling the secret number on the advertisement, I was given an email address. This exchange of information reminded me of some James Bond 007 movie, and with all the precautions that were being taken to protect everyone’s identity, I was soon wondering if I should have embellished my particulars a little more. After emailing Bob and Trish, which seemed like two of the most unoriginal names one could have thought of, I was ready to get it over with. We agreed to meet in public at a well-lit fast-food restaurant. I wanted plenty of people to be around, and I also wanted to be able to make a fast getaway.
I pretty much assumed that Bob and Trish would look like two old has-beens from yesteryear. I envisioned them to look either like Florida and James Evans from Good Times, or an older version of Ike and Tina Turner. Almost talking myself out of the meeting, I decided the encounter would probably last every bit of fifteen seconds, at the most. At that point, I simply needed the satisfaction of knowing that I had the guts to actually go through with it. To my astonishment, Bob and Trish were good-looking, ebony people who certainly didn’t strike me as the type that would be into threesomes. I didn’t look the part either, but that was beside the point.
First, we exchanged small talk and clicked right from the start. For a while, sex never entered the conversation, and I wondered if they had gotten their emails crossed. I did not want to discuss real estate or something else trivial.
Then Bob announced that they wanted to show me something back at their hotel room. They were staying not far from the fast-food joint, one reason why I’d selected the spot.
Ma and Pa Kettle seemed harmless enough so I thought, What the hell!
Threesome or no threesome, I was enjoying their company and didn’t have anything better to do at the moment.
As soon as we stepped into the room, Bob and Trish seemed more direct. The last thing they wanted was a newbie. Thus, I did what they did and tried to look as if I was down for anything they were down for. I gauged that I could probably knock the shit out of both of them if push came to shove.
They started to neatly take off their clothes and politely told me where I could place mine. I had envisioned this part of the encounter to be a little more dramatic, but I was dealing with a couple of neat freaks. As we undressed, we engaged in the same kind of small talk from the fast-food restaurant, only this time, they were checking me out and I was checking them out.
For an old gal, Trish had rather large breasts. A little saggy, but that only gave them personality and a semblance of realism. For an old geezer, Bob was packing a pretty healthy-size dick. When Trish saw me eyeballing Bob’s dick, it was pretty much on! She gave him some sort of eye signal, and the next thing I knew, they had double-teamed me. Each one of them had one of my legs, and I was suddenly lying on my back.
I wanted to say, “Wait a fucking minute,” and, “Give me a minute to catch my breath.” I wished that I could remember even half the bullshit I had claimed to be down for in my written bio that I had submitted to them. Knowing me, it was probably a bunch of freaky stuff from porn or the erotica I had been into lately. It was now too late and too bad. It was on now and I wasn’t going to let those two old geezers “outfuck” me!
To my amazement, the two of them opened my legs as far as they could go, short of snapping me in two, and took turns sniffing my pussy. First Trish took a noseful, and from the way she acted, you would have thought she was smelling sweet-potato pie. She came up out of me with her eyes closed, then it was old Bob’s turn to take a whiff. All this sniffing made me glad that I had given myself an extra pussy wash-down in the ladies’ room before we left the restaurant. If this was all they were going to do, then I should have charged them to smell my gourmet pussy.
By that time, Bob’s dick had pretty much skyrocketed; he was rubbing it all over my pussy, being careful not to penetrate me or have his dick touch my clit. My pussy was getting wetter and wetter, and every time I tried to touch my clit, Trish would pull my hands back. At one point, I was getting ready to tell her “Get the fuck off of me,” since my pussy was about to explode.
The area around my pussy was so sensitive that I couldn’t fucking stand it, then I felt Trish crawl behind me and cradle me in her lap. My legs were still opened and Bob helped to lift me slightly in her lap. While I leaned back on her, she had her legs wrapped around my legs. My pussy was swollen and wetter than it had ever felt before. Bob obviously enjoyed the view because he was sniffing and rubbing his dick all on me, while he let Trish take charge.
Bob instructed Trish to keep my legs open, but still he wouldn’t penetrate me, even after I started begging him to, risking soundin
g like one of those video hos. I was thinking only, Somebody better do something before my pussy blows up. Trish was taking her sweet time, licking her fingers. She told Bob to let her finish and began to lightly stroke the length and width of my pussy from top to bottom. She took long, broad strokes that seemed to stimulate my entire pussy.
