Archive-name: 3plus/florida.txt
Archive-author: Bill
Archive-title: Florida Heat

                         OPEN MARRIAGE:  CHAPTER 1
                               "FLORIDA HEAT"
                                   By Bill



    We were vacationing on Florida's west coast last fall when I suggested
to Ellen that she should date other men.  Misunderstanding me, she was a bit
irritated.  We'd never had any problems in our 8 years of marriage, so it was
a bit difficult explaining why.  We were discussing this a half hour before
sunset while we were in our swimwear, washing our Porsche on the narrow strip
of grass separating the rented house and the beach.  Eventually, she was
convinced that this wasn't a ploy to allow me to fool around.  She'd been so
opposed to the suggestion that I was surprised when she finally caved in,
saying she would at least consider my proposal; she was even smiling as she
admitted that the idea did, after all, seem exciting.  I asked only that she
tell me about these dates.

    Ellen had been a model for beachwear, cosmetics, and fashion until we
married.  Her measurements are the same now as then.  She's 5'8", has shoulder
length black hair, the rare color of brilliant, gray eyes, and a figure that
turns the heads of both sexes.  Here, in her white string-bikini, she looked
even more appealing.

    The car now shined like new.  I was lifting the portable vacuum when
we glanced toward a young blond man walking up from the beach, a sketch pad
beneath an arm.  He was wearing a light blue button down shirt with epaulets
and khaki safari slacks.  Introducing himself as Greg, an art student at a
local college, he asked directions to a nearby diner.  Greg was 24, 5'11",
with a lithe body and tanned face.  He looked more like a surfer than an
artist.

    Ellen bent to pick up the chamois and her white hip-length terry robe.
Stretching just beyond his vision, she smiled, tossing me a quizzical nod.  I
picked up her cue, smiled, and told him, "We haven't eaten either."  Turning
to Ellen, I blurted, "What would you think about having a starving student
over for dinner?"  Ellen beamed as she agreed, enthusiastically, "Terrific
idea," and turning to Greg to appraise him, offered, "How about lobster?"

    He declined politely, but upon Ellen's urging, decided she was
sincere, and grinned, "I love lobster, thanks."

    I walked behind Greg, his gaze following Ellen's tall beach-robed
figure up the flagstones to the back door.  In the kitchen, Ellen slipped
on a pair of white, high heeled pumps, accentuating her long legs.  Greg
turned frequently to look at her as she prepared dinner.

    He was living with two roommates in a rented duplex two blocks from
the college.  He knew little about sports, and I knew little about art, so
the conversation was strained until Ellen joined us.  After dinner, Ellen
took a shower, then returned in a long, low cut blue robe to sit on the
floor between me in a chair and Greg on the couch.  She was wearing nothing
beneath the satiny material that clung to her body, contouring her nipples.

    I set chips and dip on the rattan coffee table and opened a bottle
of white wine for Greg and me and a diet drink for Ellen.  There was no
mistaking the sexual electricity radiating between them.  Their eyes locked
as they exchanged stories of their lives before Florida.  His gaze fell now
and then to her bared leg and to the smooth, midnight blue material that
exposed the pale sides of her breasts.  Occasionally a word would catch in
their throats.  Both swallowed in excitation when their hands brushed as
she offered him potato chips, her hand lingering to touch his.  Because
Greg was lean and hardened, I doubted that he usually ate snacks; still,
he didn't refuse, allowing him another opportunity to caress her hand.
She asked him to teach her some basic sketching rules, suggesting that
they do so in the "Florida room."  In Long Island, we'd have called the
room Eden.

    She preceded him into the room, tuned the stereo to a soft FM
station, then came out to search for a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
She whispered her plan, then returned to Greg, closing the door.

    As she suggested, I slipped out of the house, drove the car a block
away, locked it, and sprinted back to an area between the darkened hedge and
the Florida room's broad shuttered window.  All other lights in the house were
now turned off.  The summer heat had allowed us to keep the glass shutters
open, so I could hear everything they said.

    Ellen was curled along side him on the couch.  A half hour later,
their conversation diminished to whispers and soft laughter.  She glanced
beyond the window but was unable to see me in the darkness. Turning back to
Greg, she pursed her lips and inquired, "Do you like to dance?"  When he
murmured something about not knowing how to "slow dance," she playfully
offered to teach him "as payment for the art lesson."  He accepted, his
speech slurring from the wine's intoxication.  She turned the dimmer switch
until a soft glow bathed the room, then held out her hand, beckoning him.
They melded together, swaying, her cheek gently brushing his.  He stroked
her hair.  He held her for moments after the second song had ended, then
turned away to drink the last of the champagne from his glass.

    Ellen's face was flushed, her soft lips trembling with fear and
passion.  Now, as Ellen danced slowly with Greg, she swallowed nervously,
glancing to his engorged manhood surging beneath his slacks.  Another melody
drifted from the stereo.  She closed her eyes as he reached for her.  The
tips of her fingers traced a sensuous path down his neck.  Her tremorous
mouth formed an "oh" as her lips touched his.  Ellen's hips gyrated in eager
passion.  Greg opened her robe, sliding it from her shoulders.  Her nipples
were erect.  Her body trembled in excitation.  Greg shuddered as the robe
fluttered to the floor.  She blushed as he pulled her to him, his lips
crushing hers.  Ellen's hands tremored as she removed his shirt.  Her legs
shaking, she sank to her knees to unbuckle his belt.  She pulled his slacks
down his long legs, her full lips brushing his chest and stomach.  The largest
member she'd ever seen burst free.  She gulped fearfully, her eyes widened in
disbelief.  On her knees, cringing in terrified awe as Greg's long cock swayed
before her, she looked like a sacrificial virgin worshiping at a serpentine
alter.  Shuddering, she licked her crimson lips.  Her full pale breasts were
rippling with passion.  I could feel the desire radiating between them as
her mouth strained to encircle his shaft that was curving up from the tuft
of blond pubic hair.  Ellen was moaning; her hips were rolling back and forth
like waves softly advancing on the sands, then retreating from the beach.

    Greg gaped at his glistening manhood as the fullness of her lips
glided along its length.  As he glanced to the pulsing blue numbers of a
shelftop's digital clock, he tremored, "What if your husband returns early
from work?"  She muttered, her soft voice quaking, "He won't.  He works near
Tampa Bay and won't be home until eight in the morning."

    Effortlessly, he lifted her from the floor and lowered her to the
couch. Tasting her melon-like breasts, he sucked each firm, reddened nipple
until they stood out like spikes.  Her face was burning, her breath hissing
out like a radiator about to burst.  Ellen pressed her breast's soft ripeness
against his face, her cries of pleasure piercing the room's air.  She squeezed
his cock, its purple, bulbous head surging inches beyond the breadth of her
small fist.  Now, mewing in ardor, she had forgotten that I was watching.

    I envied Greg's length.  My shaft was now as hard as his as I unzipped
and pulled it from my slacks.  I began pumping slowly, watching the scene play
out before me.  He pushed her trembling legs apart.  I realized then that she'd
shaved her pubic hair while in the shower.  His lips grazed her swollen cli-
toris, causing her body to shimmy as she rotated her smooth mound against his
mouth.  He moved up her body until his tongue was twirling against hers.  Her
body shivered, her eyes following the slow downward path of his extended shaft
as he mounted her.  Her eager cunt quivered upward to touch the intrusive
member.  She moaned, tears of pleasure pooling in her eyes as his broad
cock-head pushed through her creaming cuntal folds.  Her fervid tunnel now
engulfed his shaft as she hissed, "Ohhhhh, GREG, I'm on FIRE!  It's all FOR
YOU!  For YOU!"  And then, she was wailing with lust as he pistoned deep
within her. Ellen thrashed her head from side to side.  Her hips swirled as
she reveled in his heated fucking.  Swinging her legs around his shoulders,
she pressed her back against the cushions, squealing, her eyes glistening
with tears.  Her face registered surprise with each steaming entry of his
massive cock as she cried, "Oh god!  GREG!  I've never FELT like this!"

    Thrusting into her quaking pussy, Greg was emersed in the culmination
of their lust.  His jaw slackened.  His chest heaved as he looked down on her
rolling eyes.  He moaned unintelligible noises I could remember making as a
young Marine with women who were never as gorgeous as Ellen!  I couldn't have
imagined fucking a woman that beautiful!  A MARRIED woman!

    Her body shimmied.  Unable to take her eyes off the monstrous cock
ramming into her shaved pussy, she cried, "Oh, Greg, I LOVE your cock!  God
HELP me!  I LOVE FUCKING YOU!"

    I was drugged with a time-stilling sensation as she rolled, pulling
Greg beneath her.  Straddling him, she slowly impaled herself on his cock,
her fiery well of passion sucking in his long, steaming poker.  Gaping at
her cuntal folds enveloping his firm manhood as she bucked against him, Greg
murmured, "Yes, Ellen, I love it too!  I love fucking YOU!"

    I now leaned against the window so closely, I could smell the
perspiration steaming from their enflamed bodies.  I was stroking my
elongated member in rhythm with my heart, which was thumping like a
sledgehammer.

    Greg disengaged, pushing Ellen to her knees on the carpet, mounting
her from the rear.  She reached behind, allowing her trembling fingers to
stroke his length.  Feeling his enormous hardness, she cried out in yearning!
Bracing her arms against the carpet, she spread her knees to accomodate his
large tool as it entered her cunt.  She gasped.  Her mouth and eyes widened
as he pushed deeper.  Ellen shuddered, aflame with desire.  Her voice quaking,
she pleaded, "Oh, Jesus, Greg!  GIVE it to me!  I NEED your cock!"  With tears
streaming down her cheeks, she pleaded for every inch of his monster, slowly
thrusting its way deep within her lubricated pussy.  And although he was
entering her for the second time, she cried out, "Oh, GOD!  You're splitting
me apart!"  Her eyes were wild, her body flaming in a crimson blush.  But when
he had sunk his shaft its full length, she wailed, "Oh, YES!  Greg!  YES-S-S!"
Now, as they united in blazing passion, she was sobbing.  They were thrashing
about like hellish demons.  The yolks of her eyes rolled.  She fucked back
against him wildly in long strokes, his large balls slapping the mounds of
her buttocks.

    I'd never seen Ellen so overcome with lust!  The sheer joy of watching
them was incredible!  Until that night, I'd never heard my wife swear, but now,
white hot with passion, she was brazenly pleading, "Oh, God DAMN!  FUCK me!
FUCK me, Greg!  Oh, JESUS!"  Ellen was rolling her head in wide circles.  Her
eyes told me she felt the on rushing orgasm that would soon overtake them.
The smell of their sex permeated the warm night air.  And then Greg, his face
contorted, was shrieking, "I'm coming, I'm COMING!  Oh, GOD!"  He lifted his
head high and groaned, increasing his tempo.

    Her soft lips formed a tremoring "oh" with each entry.  Ellen was
positively radiant as she turned to look at him.  His hips hammered the
roundness of her buttocks.  She matched his every thrust as she squealed,
"Oh GOD!  It's so GREAT, Greg!  Come WITH me!  I LOVE it!  I love YOU!
Oh, yes, I LOVE YOU!"

    As I watched her face register each blissful quake she felt within,
I could feel her explosive orgasm building within her.  And then it came!
The sexual thunder was surging through them like an avalanche. She shut her
eyes tightly, sobbing as they came in unison, their bodies and minds
intertwined in cosmic eruptions.  I was coming for what seemed an eternity.
I sank to a knee, my cock hanging limply.  I hadn't realized how loudly I'd
groaned until moments later when I saw Greg walking over to lean against the
back of the couch to peer out the window.

    He was startled for a moment but then grinned, "I really didn't know
you were still here.  Was it okay?"  He was asking for my approval, not
whether I'd enjoyed it.  I zipped my fly.  "I asked Ellen to give herself
to you.  I hope you don't feel used."

    He breathed, uncomfortably, "I've never had a greater gift."

    I believed him.  I walked to the door.  Ellen greeted me, her gray
eyes ablaze in lust.  Her breath huffed in short bursts as she removed my
clothes.  Grasping Greg's shaft, then mine, she led us to the shower.  A
dim light filtered through the door from the hallway.  Beneath the pounding
water, our mouths and tongues pleasured Ellen until the water heater gave up.

    Now, burning with desire, we toweled off and stumbled into our bedroom.
Ellen took turns with us until, finally exhausted, she crawled to Greg, placed
her elbows on his chest and looked into his eyes as if in worship. "I love
you," she told him as she stroked my cock behind her.  "I love Bill, but I
also love YOU.  Can you understand that?"

    I wasn't jealous of Ellen's comment.  Her revelation told me just how
much the experience meant to her.  I wish that I could say that we were with
Greg many more times, but we left our vacation cottage the next day.  A letter
we'd mailed to Greg was returned, stamped, "Addressee has moved. Current
address unknown."  However, that experience changed our lives, as you'll
read in future stories.  As things turned out, she met two other young men
who reminded her a great deal of Greg - David who lives near us, and Brad who
visited us from Long Island.  But those are Ellen's story, and she wanted to
tell you herself, in future stories.

    Only later did I realize my desire to share Ellen had long been within
me.  My voyeuristic tendencies, the pleasure I receive from watching other men
enjoying her beauty, were manifestations of this.  I think I relive my original
attraction to Ellen through other men.  Ellen now admits she enjoys this life
style, somehow understanding that I'd always taken pride in watching others
admire her.  It's not just to please me; she loves being fucked by other men
and, when possible, allows me to watch.  Now, of course, she has refined her
talent for attracting their attention.

        Now, a year later, I have watched Ellen seduce, and seduced by,
countless men.  Each time is a unique experience; with each seduction,
another threshhold is crossed into what Ellen describes as her "path to
mega-lust and super-adultery."  Once, she was fucked by three friends of
mine at one time, at a card party at our home while I watched the scene in
its entirety.  She has had experiences with other younger men as well.

    As bizarre as our life style may seem to others, the arrangement has
had an interesting side effect.  I haven't once considered cheating.  Frankly,
affairs with other women could never be as exciting.

        A few months after our encounter with Greg, I left town for a few days
to attend an engineering seminar.  Ellen, as usual, didn't go, twisting the
paths of our lives into another unexpected direction.

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