By Margo Perry  (margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
Copyright 2005 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

Sara and her husband, Tommy, had just shared their Friday night spaghetti dinner with their best friend, Erica, and were now lounging about in the living room.

“Thanks Sara, that was wonderful. As usual, I ate too much.” Tommy slouched, stretching his lean 6’3” frame away from the couch, and patted his stomach. “If it wasn’t raining, I’d run around the block.”

“If it wasn’t raining, you wouldn’t mention running around the block,” Erica teased. “Why don’t you jog to the kitchen and open that bottle of wine I brought over.”

They’d all been best friends since their first year of college, fifteen years ago, and these weekly get-togethers had become a ritual. Sara and Erica were both ad writers, but for different agencies, and Tommy was an attorney. Over dinner, they’d catch up on each other’s projects and problems, discuss solutions, and get a little drunk on empathy and good wine. But tonight was different. Over dinner, talk had turned to sexual fantasies and the energy in the room had become charged with an urgency that frightened Sara; that frightened her now as she recalled it.

“I’ve always fantasized about a threesome with another woman,” Erica had admitted, nibbling her garlic bread.

“Amen to that,” Tommy had enthused, draining his tumbler of red wine. “That’s every man’s dream!”

“Well, we’ve got all the ingredients to make your dream come true,” Erica said. “What say you, Sara? Shall we make Tommy really, really happy?”

“I intend to do just that,” Sara had said, escaping from the table. “I’ve made his favorite
tiramisu and that should do the trick.”

Everybody had laughed, but Sara felt like a Black and White character in a Technicolor film and she envied her friend’s confidence and allure. She and Erica were both about 5’8”, but there the similarity ended. Sara was cautious and conservative; Erica was bold and adventurous. Sara was blue-eyed and fair and wore her blond hair closely cropped. She had the delicate frame of a ballet dancer and the vulnerable beauty of an adolescent Mia Farrow. Erica was chocolate brown with a wild mass of raven curls. Her body was Rubenesque, all curves and soft flesh, her beauty female and animalistic. Tommy worked out and still had the body of the football star he’d been in college. He wore his good looks casually and without pride. They were all beautiful and, all through university, quite the inseparable trio.

In the kitchen, Sara took the dessert from the refrigerator and spooned it carefully into her favorite hand painted bowls. She reminded herself that over the years, their intense three-way friendship had never faltered; that Sara had never had any reason to doubt Tommy’s commitment or fidelity. But another voice countered with the fact of Tommy’s fetish for large breasts; that he had never been able to keep his eyes from devouring Erica’s JJ mounds. They often laughed about it and it had always seemed like harmless fun; that is, until tonight. Tonight, Sara felt like a civilian in the middle of a minefield. She didn’t know the whereabouts or the complexities of the danger, but was well aware of its potential for destruction. She loaded her tray and went back into the dining room, relieved that the conversation had turned to their love for Italian food and her culinary talents.

I’ve got to stop thinking this way, Sara admonished herself, as Tommy returned with the bottle of Merlot. He filled their glasses and Erica raised hers in a toast.

“Let’s drink to nothing ventured, nothing gained!”

“To nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Tommy repeated, clinking Erica’s glass.

Sara just sat there.

“Let’s talk, Sara,” Erica said, “bring your wine.” She got up, dragging Sara off the couch. “You just relax, Tommy Boy.”

“I’m relaxing. I’m relaxing,” Tommy said, plopping himself down on the couch.

Sara looked down at the love of her life, at the bulge that had begun to tent his pants as soon as the toasting began. He and Erica were on a roll and Sara didn’t know, at that moment, which of the two of them she resented most. Why hadn’t she stopped this nonsense at the table, told them that she wasn’t ready to share her husband; that she wanted no part of a threesome? She loved these two people. They were her confidants. Why hadn’t she told them how she felt? She hadn’t because she was desperately afraid of displeasing them, denying them something they wanted because of her own insecurities. But she was terrified of Tommy’s overwhelming lust and appreciation for huge breasts and Erica’s breasts were momentous. Sara enjoyed the videos she and Tommy watched together; enjoyed the fact that they both loved Erica’s tits. But a threesome was something else! While curious and even titillated, Sara was still filled with anxiety. She was afraid that Erica’s breasts would be the sirens that lured her Tommy and that her marriage would end up on the rocks.

“What do you really think about all this?” Erica asked, pulling Sara down on the bed. “To tell you the truth, this has been one of my fantasies for a long time: experimenting with my two best friends. I’ve never been with a girl before. Have you?”

“Never,” Sara said. Erica had taken Sara’s hand in both her warm and soft palms. It reconnected them; made Sara feel safe. “I’m not sure of this,” she said. “I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?” Erica slipped off the bed and knelt in front of Sara.

“I don’t know. Maybe of changing something. Losing something.”

Erica rested her head on Sara’s leg and caressed her other thigh lovingly, from her knee up and down again. Sara felt the stirrings of something sensuous, a moving heat that flushed her face before racing down, across her breasts to that place between her legs. She felt confused. She felt full of love for her friend. She began to tease Erica’s scalp with her fingernails, round and round in circles.

“I don’t want to stop, but we can if you want to.” The breath from Erica’s words warmed Sara’s skin, inflamed her brain with contradictory thoughts: She wanted to keep going, but she was afraid. She could feel a pulsing deep inside her pussy. She wanted more touching, but she was afraid. She felt curiosity and hunger and anticipation, but she was afraid. She thought of Tommy and she was desperately afraid. Erica got up from the floor and sat back on the bed beside Sara. She took Sara’s face in both her hands. Sara felt butterflies stroking her cheeks. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“I want to go on,” Sara said.

Erica held Sara’s hands. “You just don’t know how loved you are as a wife and as a best friend. Don’t you know that we’re both your slaves? We’d gladly die for you.”

Sara laughed at her earnest tone. “Well, let’s hope it never comes to that. Poor Tommy must be wondering what’s happening?”

“Let’s go out and dance for him.”

“Okay,” Sara said. She loved to dance.

“Maybe we should adjust this attire,” Erica said. (They had been to the gym earlier and were dressed in jogging suits.) “We don’t look exactly sexy.”

“Want to try on some of my stuff?”

“How about stripping down to our undies?” Erica giggled. “What do you have on under there?”

Sara stared as Erica stepped out of her pants and pulled her sweat shirt over her head. She was wearing a matching emerald green panty and bra. The bikini cut accentuated her fully curved hips and her half-bra provided a display shelf for her spectacular breasts and endless cleavage.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Sara said. “I’ll look like Little Jack Horner beside you.”

“Stop that! You’re gorgeous and you know it. Off with your clothes!”

Erica watched as Sara undressed. She was wearing a cotton athletic bra and jockey shorts. “No way,” Erica said. She went to Sara’s lingerie drawer and took out the pink cut out panties and bra that she’d made Sara buy last Valentine’s Day. “You told me what these did to him. Now, put them on.”

Sara trembled as she undressed. There was no denying what was going on. She had jumped off the cliff. A primitive sexual gravity was pulling her toward the inevitable and there was no going back. Erica hugged her from behind. She could feel the soft and spongy breasts pressing against her back. Her nipples hardened, pointing out of the perfectly placed holes in her bra and she could feel a delicious tingling in her pussy. She thought of Tommy and how excited he’d be.

“We’re going to drive Tommy crazy,” she whispered.

“Let’s go get him,” Erica whispered back. “Ready?”

She turned Sara towards her. What a difference no clothes made, Sara thought. She felt so naked and so elementally close to Erica. Erica caught and held her gaze and a mighty erotic magnetism seemed to enclose them. Sara wanted to feel Erica’s breasts again. She felt the need in her pussy. She’d never noticed just how full and inviting Erica’s lips were. She wondered what it would be like to kiss her. “Come,” Erica said. She took Sara’s hands and wound them behind Sara’s back, pulling her against her breasts. She moved their hands down to her ass, pulling pelvis to pelvis. Sara couldn’t breath. Their faces were inches away. “Kiss me,” Erica said.

Sara touched her lips to Erica’s with such tentative sweetness that Erica gasped. Sara drew back and looked into her eyes. She came back to lick her lips, but soon began to probe and then invade her mouth. Their tongues danced and twirled; lips opened and pressed and teased. And they didn’t stop until they were grinding pelvis against pelvis, they’re knees shaky and unreliable. “We’d better stop,” Sara said, wiggling out of Erica’s arms.

“Yes,” Erica said, smiling. “It’s a party for three, remember?”

Hand in hand, they walked back to the living room. Tommy was still on the couch, sipping his wine and listening to Nina Simone’s, ‘He Needs Me’. Sara and Erica moved in front of him and began to sway their hips and torsos in time to the gentle, seductive rhythm. Tommy sat up, his eyes riveted. The girls faced each other. Erica began to massage her giant breasts and Sara teased her own hard, tiny nipples. Erica bent over, giving Tommy a perfect view of her pendulous swaying breasts as she stroked her own hips, moved to her inner thighs, almost petting her pussy. Sara moved over to the couch and straddled Tommy, grinding her pussy over his fully engorged and lurching cock.

“You love this, don’t you?” she teased. “I know how much you love Erica’s tits. I love them, too,” she whispered in his ear. “Watch this.”

She climbed off him, noticing the large wet spot that had stained Tommy’s jeans from inside and out; his pre-cum oozing and her pussy juice flowing out from the hole in her panties. She moved behind Erica, reached around her and began to massage Erica’s breasts. She squeezed them and the moving flesh between her fingers inflamed her. She moved in front of her and used two hands to lift one breast out of her bra. She lowered her head to take the nipple into her mouth. She suckled it, bit it, licked it and suckled it again.

“You’re driving me crazy. Please, lie down with me,” Erica begged. The two women lay on the floor. They began to kiss, as they pulled and kneaded each others breasts. Erica positioned her leg between Sara’s, pressing against Sara’s pussy. Sara shoved back, needing her clit to enjoy what was being offered it. Sara freed Erica’s other breast and began to tongue and nibble it. Erica groaned her pleasure. Sara climbed on top of Erica and began to fuck her clit to clit, tit to tit, mouth to mouth. “I need a cock,” Erica almost screamed. “I need Tommy,” she said, rolling away from Sara.

“No,” Sara said, “you can’t have him!”

Sara looked up to see Tommy struggling out of his pants. His cock was longer and thicker than she’d ever seen it. He came toward her. I’m sorry, Erica, she thought, but he’s mine. She lay on her back, lifted her legs and opened them wide, just the way he liked her to. He said it made her look so horny; made him feel so powerful, so wanted. She looked at his horny, flushed face. He looked so helplessly in need. A fire blazed from his eyes. She waited as he walked past her toward Erica. Waited as he bent over Erica, his cock poised to take her. Waited as he entered her, groaning and drooling over her now naked breasts.

“Yes,” Erica said.

“No, no, no!” Sara screamed.

*                  *                   *

“Wake up,” Tommy said, shaking Sara awake.

“Please, no,” Sara screamed again.

Tommy shook her more firmly. “Wake up, baby. You’re having a bad dream.”

A startled Sara looked into her husband’s eyes. “Dreaming?”

“Yes,” Tommy said, gathering his shaking wife into his arms.

But his arms were not enough. Sara sought his lips, grinding them, opening them with her tongue. She kissed him with an abandon that turned his early morning hard-on into a randy goat of a thing. She twisted around and took his whole cock into her Linda Lovelace mouth and throat.

“Oh my,” Tommy groaned.

She sucked his balls and then handled them while she devoured his cock once more.

“I’m going to come,” Tommy warned.

“Not yet,” she begged. “Fuck me.”

She lifted her legs and spread them, just the way he like it. And he took her. And they fucked a sweet fuck that soon turned perfectly desperate and lustful. She came first, rubbing her clit as he pounded. And she loved him. And he loved her, finally spilling his life into her.

She snuggled into him, as his cum dripped out of her.

“That must have been some dream,” Tommy whispered into her hair. “Wanna’ talk about it?”

“No, it’s over. Let’s get some sleep.”

She was awake and still thinking long after she heard his gentle snores. Her A cup breasts were not good enough anymore, not for her. I want tits, huge tits, she thought. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do, but she knew that she wouldn’t be happy until Tommy looked at her large, large breasts with a fire blazing from his eyes.