Three on the Patio

by Kellis

Spring, 2014

 

 

Tissie mumbled something at length.

Jane put a hand behind an ear.  “What’d she say?”

“You’re closer to her than I am,” said Melissa with a shrug.

The three women were sitting in lawn furniture around a shaded metal table on the huge patio.  Other occupied tables were scattered around but none too near.  The spring afternoon was sunny with a light breeze.

“But I wanted to hear it,” said Jane with a sudden grin.  “I think she was on about cock sucking again.”

Melissa perked up a little.  “Well, ask her!”

Jane leaned over and punched Tissie’s arm lightly.  “Would you repeat that, dear, a little louder?”

Tissie glanced around,  a hand shading her eyes from the glare.  “Where am I?”  She searched her two friends’ faces.  “Oh.”  She smiled.  “I was wool gathering again, wasn’t I?”

“We’re not sure,” said Jane, “but it sounded interesting.  We’re you thinking about your hubby?”

“Jack was a good guy, even tempered up to the day he died.  I’m glad it worked out so well.  Did I tell you how I met him?”

“No, but didn’t you meet all your guys the same way?”

Tissie chuckled reminiscently.  “Pretty much.  I had the window seat on a flight to …  Oh, where was it?”

“Did you strike up a conversation?”

“Huh?  No, no.  Not at first.  He looked the right kind, clean-shaven and neat, even with a little beer belly.”

“If you didn’t talk, what did you do?”

“I had a blanket in my lap.  I pulled it over his lap, found his zipper pull and unzipped him.”  She chuckled again.  “His eyes got large but he didn’t say anything, so I fished out his dick.  Under the blanket, of course.  He twitched.  I smiled at him and played with it a little.  It jumped right up.”

“Was it a big one?” asked Melissa, eyes bright with interest.

“I don’t know what you would call ‘big.’”

“At least seven inches.”

“We were married 15 years, you know, before he kicked off, and I’m sure I did everything possible to it during that time … except measure it.”

“Weren’t you curious?”

“I suppose you measured all of yours!”

“On my husbands, you can be sure.”

“Well, I never measured Jack’s.”  Tissie smiled and held up a hand with thumb and forefinger spread.  “It was about this long.”

“Wasn’t that a bit small?”

“Oh, a comfortable length.  But it was fatter than average, a satisfying mouthful.”

“I know just what you mean!” simpered Melissa.  “Although long ones can be sweet.”

“Too long can hurt,” said Jane, summarizing impatiently, “There you were, beside him in an aircraft seat, playing with his dick under a blanket, and you didn’t even know his name.  Or did you?”

“Never saw him before in my life.  By that time — I was about 50 — I’d learned to be a pretty good judge of men.  When he didn’t protest the open fly, I knew I was in.”

“Weren’t you taking an awful chance?” asked Melissa with awe in her voice.

Tissie laughed a little.  “As long as you’re gentle about it, men won’t complain if you squeeze their dicks.  Except maybe the purely gay ones.  I tried one of those — a very handsome fellow, let me tell you! — who said, ‘I’d love you doing that if you had one too.’”

“Did he!”

Jane said, “So you just played with this unknown dick.  Until he came?”

“Not with my hand.”

The other two stared at her.  She grinned.  “It was a red-eye; they had turned off all the lights except the warning sign.  I wiggled my butt out of the seat and raised the blanket enough to lean over and suck.”

“God!” exclaimed Melissa.

“And you still hadn’t exchanged one word,” noted Jane, shaking her head.  “I can’t believe he never said a word.”

“Well, he did eventually.  He clamped my head in his hands to hold it still and said, ‘The stewardess is coming.’  Then he spread the blanket over me.

“So I held my head still but not my tongue.  After a bit he said, ‘She’s come and gone and now it’s my turn.’”

His turn?  Oh!  You mean …”

“Right.  He groaned a time or two and gave me a little taste.  Surprised me how little.  Later on I learned he’d had a vasectomy.”

They sat in silence, imagining the scene.  At last Jane said sourly, “I suppose like most men he went right to sleep.”

“No.  In fact he proposed.”

“Wh-what?”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’”

“I played it cool of course.  ‘You don’t know me.’

“‘I know you’ll suck my dick and swallow.  All my life I’ve wanted a respectable woman who’ll do that.  What’s your destination?’

“‘Chicago.’

“He said, ‘I’ll get off there if you’ll go to breakfast with me.  My name is Jack Forester.’

“So we told each other our backgrounds, suitably edited.  His ticket was for Cleveland, but he left the plane with me at Chicago and we were together from then on.”

Her listeners thought about it.  Melissa licked her lips.  “God, Tissie, that’s so romantic!”

Jane sniffed.  “Nothing romantic about sucking a cock.”

“Oh, I don’t know … under the right circumstances.  It’s not what you do, it’s why.  I wish I’d been as brave as Tissie.”

“‘Brave?’  Brazen, maybe.  Unbelievably forward, just reaching over and pulling out a strange man’s dick!  We know you liked the taste of dick, Tissie, but what possessed you to do that on an airplane?”

“Well, it was a late-night flight above solid clouds with no moon.  All you could see was stars and I’m no astronomer.  I thought, ‘I’m sitting beside a man who’s fidgeting because he can’t sleep either.  And he looks like the kind that would appreciate a little attention to his dick.’  Which he certainly was!”

“Oh my, yes — enough to marry you for it,” said Melissa.  “Did he like to fuck your mouth, Tissie?”

“No, not particularly.  For blow jobs he wanted me to do all the work, to pump it up and when he gave the signal, just to suck gently then stop when the jizz started and catch every drop.  He and I both loved it in public places.  I sucked him off one morning behind a column at the Jefferson Memorial.  Lots of other places, too.  Plenty of times in the movies.  It was so neat.  We never spilled anything, never messed up our clothes.”

Jane asked, “Did he never return the favor?”

“Of course he did.  In public too, if I wore a skirt.”

Melissa chuckled.  “A skirt?  Wouldn’t a man’s head under your skirt be rather obvious?”

“Sure, in most places.  Our favorite spot was the gondola of a Ferris wheel.   He’d crouch down in the foot well and I’d hold on tight to the rocker bar.”  She chuckled fondly.  “Talk about hearing bells and whistles!”

“I suppose so!” declared Melissa reverently.

Jane said, “Did you know someone who liked to fuck your mouth, Melissa?”

“As a matter of fact.”  The woman’s eyes twinkled.  “And his was the biggest I ever took there.”

“How big?  You said you measured them.”

“Oh, yes.  Bertram’s was nine and one-half inches.”

“How awful!”  Jane’s eyes widened.  “I don’t believe you deep throated it.”

“I tried it, though.  It made me throw up, which pleased Bertram, I could tell.”

“He was the overbearing type, was he?”

“Not usually,” said Melissa thoughtfully.  “In fact he’s like, ‘If it makes you sick, why do you do it?’

“I’m like, ‘To please you,’ which made him grin and take me to dinner.  He thought it was proof his dick was monstrous.”

“Men are so vain about that.”

“Huh!  Most of them have no reason for it.”

Tissie, now following the conversation closely, shivered slightly.  “Big ones can hurt.”

“Your cervix?” asked Melissa.  “I think it depends on how it strikes.  Bertram’s felt like it was going under the cervix.  It would drive me wild.”

“It didn’t hurt?”

“Anything but hurt!”

“Did you marry him?”

“No.  He couldn’t afford me.”  Melissa grinned slyly.  “But I saw a lot of him.  It was while I was married to Levinson.  I think Bertram put my son into me.  When he went off to war, he was the spitting image of Bertram.  Made me wet to kiss him.  He had a big one too.”

“Your son?” said Jane in affront.  “How do you know that?”

“I saw him as a teenager jerking off in his room.  If he hadn’t been my son, I’m sure I would’ve tried Tissie’s trick.  He was a lovely boy.”

“You walked in on him?  What did he say?”

“Nothing.  He froze and looked at me guiltily.  The maid had left his shirts in the laundry room.  I put them on his desk and said, ‘Hang these up.  And next time close your door.’”

“That was cool.  You don’t think your husband was his father?”

“No.  Levinson’s manhood was average.  And as I said, the boy looked exactly like Bertram, even the same build, except younger and sweeter.”

“How did his children look?”

“He had all girls.  They resembled their mother.”

“They tend to do that,” Tissie agreed.

Jane said sadly, “I wish I had.  I got my father’s big nose.”

“We’ve all seen your wedding picture,” said Tissie.  “I thought you were beautiful.”

Melissa nodded.  “Brides usually are.”

“That was my first wedding,” said Jane with a sniff.

“Oh, yeah,” observed Tissie, “you had three of them!  How do you account for that if you were so ugly?”

“Didn’t say I was ugly,” Jane retorted.  “Just had a big nose.”  She threw out her chest, substantial even under the shapeless housecoat, and grinned.  “These helped a lot with that.”

“They must have been huge,” said Tissie with a touch of envy.

“How huge?” asked Melissa.

“44D.”  Jane’s voice was smug.

“You poor thing!  78 years lifting that weight.”

“Not quite that much.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Tissie with some heat.  “Who cares about the weight?  With those, I wouldn’t have had to suck so much dick.”

Melissa’s eyebrows rose.  “Thought you said you loved it!”

“Well, actually I did.”  Tissie’s shoulders rippled under her bedraggled robe.  “I just hated having to do it.”

Jane cocked her head.  “You didn’t have to do it on that airplane.”

“Which airplane?  Actually I did.  I was sitting in the pilot’s lap with my panties hanging on the control yoke and the copilot’s thing tickling my ear.  I said, ‘Who’s flying the plane?’

She chuckled fondly.  “The copilot goes, ‘The autopilot.  If he had a cock, he’d slip it to you too.’  That was so cute!  Plus it smelled good.  I love the way a fresh one smells.  And Chester was in the back of the plane.  We been fighting and he’d just told me to take a walk.  So I ended up in the cockpit.  What a great name for it!”

Jane sniffed.  “Not another airplane adventure!”

“Actually I think this one was the first.”

“You want us to believe you just strolled into the cockpit and they jumped on you?”

“Of course not!  Pilots are gentlemen.  I licked the pilot’s neck.  He’d just had a close haircut.  Don’t you love the feel of close-cut hair bristles on your tongue?”

Jane said sourly, “Pilots are gentlemen but Tissie was a slut.”

Melissa declared, “Tissie was very brave.”

Their subject laughed.  “Oh, but I was a slut, by inclination if not by the strict definition.  When I got back to my assigned seat, the pilot’s jizz was running down my leg.  I kissed Chester with a little tongue.  He was still grumpy, goes, ‘God, Tissie, you need to eat a mint!’”

Jane said in a peculiar tone, “Of course you swallowed what the copilot gave you.”  She licked her lips.  “Was it a lot?”

Tissie smiled.  “I don’t remember.  I was coming and guess I swallowed automatically.  It probably was.  He was a very young man.”

“Who was Chester?” Melissa asked.

“My second husband.”  Tissie giggled.  “He got the credit for my son, but when the kid grew up, he was the spitting image of that pilot and just as handsome.”  She regarded Melissa fondly.  “We made pretty bastards, didn’t we, dear?”

“Only technically,” declared Jane.  “You were both married at the time.”

“Nevertheless.”

“I can’t understand why you weren’t on the pill, both of you!”

“Huh!  That was before the pill.”

Melissa stated, “For me too.”

Jane nodded.  “Must have been.  Nowadays you can’t just stroll into a cockpit.  They keep it locked.”

“They do?”  Tissie was miffed.  “Why do they hate lap dancing so much?”

“Wh-what?”  Jane blinked.  “They lock it to prevent hijacking.”

“Sure.  That’s what they say.  But it’s too bad.  Pilots are hot!”

“I guess you made a practice of wandering into cockpits.”

Tissie’s eyes twinkled.  “They are so well named!”

Melissa chuckled.  “She’s putting you on.”

The institutional cart arrived and the attendant refilled their tea glasses.  They sipped their drinks and looked around the large space, buzzing with the conversations of other women at other tables, but overheard nothing as interesting as their own had been.

Melissa said, “Jane, in three marriages something interesting must have happened.”

Jane retorted with wrinkled lip, “I know how you define ‘interesting.’”

“It’s too late to insist on privacy.”

“Too late?  Why?”

“Because if you don’t tell it pretty soon, it’ll be lost forever.”

Jane looked into the distance.  “Maybe not.  I don’t know if both guys are dead.”

Tissie and Melissa straightened.  Melissa said, “Both guys?”

Jane’s gaze dropped.  “Probably best if it is lost forever.”

“Wait just a minute!  Surely you don’t mean two guys at once?”

Jane took a deep breath.  “Do you really want to hear this?”  She sniffed, looking from one expectant face to the other.  “What a silly question!”

“Tell us,” said Tissie to be sure.

“I was 39.  And I mean the first 39.  Mickey took me with him to a business conference in Dallas and after dinner we went up to his friend’s room for a drink.  The other wife had a real head start on us and passed out not long after we got there.  I was more than just tiddly myself.

“The men were on about business.  With no one to talk to I turned on the TV.  It was set on the porn channel and when the picture came up, I was transfixed.  It was a close-up, a side view, of a woman about my age sucking a cock.

“She’s tastefully made up, not too much rouge and mascara, hair the same color as mine bound in a ponytail by a Bouchard clip just like the one I happened to be wearing.  And it looks like she’s trying to swallow the cock.

“The camera un-zooms.  Except for that ponytail clip she’s naked, on all-fours.  A second man is holding her hips and doing her from behind.

“I’m fascinated.  For the first time I think I understand why men like to watch women screw.  Her butt cheeks ripple and her boobs — dangling like they start to do at that age — swing forward and back in time with the thrusting from behind.”

“Wow!” said Tissie, licking her lips.

Melissa wondered, “Is this the first time you ever saw porn?”

“No.  Mickey had taken me to see Deep Throat — which embarrassed me in the theater.”  She sniffed.  “Sometimes I think the only reason for that movie was to be a vehicle for an awful gay pun: ‘What’s a nice joint like you doing in a dirty girl like this?’”

Tissie shook her head.  “At that movie I had a cock in my mouth and didn’t notice.”

Jane barked a laugh.  “Acting out the pun!”

Melissa said impatiently, “So you and the two guys watched a little porn.”

“At first.  I didn’t notice when their conversation stopped.  That room had two double beds.  The other wife was out cold on one and I was sitting on the end of the other, watching TV.  Mickey came, sat down beside me and put his arm around my back.  His friend — Butch, they called him — sat on the foot of the other bed.

“Mickey goes, ‘Look what Jane’s found on TV!’  He sounded delighted.

At that very moment the woman with my hair clip crawls up on the man whose cock she’d been sucking.  I should explain he’d been lying on a bed while she crouched over him to suck, with her butt hanging off for the second guy to screw, standing on the floor.  Now she ends up lying on top of the ex-suckee.  The camera switches and you’re looking through the open legs of the standing guy, his balls in the top of the picture, his spread legs making an A-frame and the woman’s manicured hand putting a wet cock into her cunny from underneath her.  The standing guy steps forward, gets on the bed, and the camera zooms in while he sticks his cock in along with the other one.”

“A Greek sandwich,” declared Tissie.

Jane shook her head.  “No, it wasn’t.  For that he would’ve put into her anus.”

Tissie’s eyes widened.  “You mean …”

“Right.  Both cocks were in her cunny.”

“Wow!”

Melissa said, “What did you think of that?”

“That’s about what Mickey says.  I’m like, ‘I don’t believe it.’

“The camera switches back to the side.  They are both screwing her at once with an alternating rhythm.  After a bit you see her face in close-up, which is all contorted.  She’s going, ‘Oo, oo, oo,’ and sort of quivering.  I feel myself getting wet.”

“I guess so!” declared Tissie.

Melissa said to her with a slight sneer, “You remember how that felt, do you?”

“I certainly do!”

“Two at once?” said Jane curiously.

Melissa reminded her, “We’re talking about your two at once.”

“Well, remember, I’m half drunk.  Mickey is feeling me up.  He makes a gesture and Butch sits down on my other side.  I’m thinking that my pantyhose will get soaked, then Mickey has my skirt up and is pulling the pantyhose down.

“I’m like, ‘Butch’ll see you!’

“He goes, ‘Yeah,’ and finishes with my pumps and pantyhose.  I’m wearing a cute little black A-line and he pulls it right up and over my head.  ‘Get her bra,’ he says to Butch and I feel it pop open.  I just sit there, watching two guys fuck the same girl — in her pussy, yet — with a strange man’s hand tweaking my nipple while my husband stands up and throws off his clothes in front of me.”

“God!” said Melissa.  “What in the world did you think of that?”

“Keep in mind, I’m at least half drunk.  I feel a super tingle in my belly and a rising anticipation.”

“You weren’t afraid?”

“The next day I was horrified!  But that night I’m … the hottest I ever was, I guess.”

“I’ll bet they would’ve stopped if you’d made the slightest protest.”

“I’m sure of it.  Mickey was always gentle — until that night, at least, and Butch’s wife is lying in the adjacent bed.  But believe me, the last thing I want is for them to stop.

“Mickey lies down on his back and pulls me back on top of him.  His hand snakes under my hip and puts his thing in me.  I can hear a grin in his voice.  He goes, ‘This is one wet pussy!’  I know he isn’t talking to me.  When his thing is well seated, his hand slips under my knees and pulls them up and back.  Everything I’ve got is staring Butch in the face.”

Tissie’s eyes glittered.  “Was Mickey up your ass?”

“Oh, no.  He knew I didn’t take it like that.  But you know what, I probably would have that night — except they weren’t up her ass on TV, which may be why nobody got the idea.”

“You mean they both put into your cunny?”

“Butch steps up between Mickey’s legs.  I can feel the head of his thing touching me just above Mickey’s.  He goes, ‘Jane, is this all right with you?’

“I want to urge him on but the cat’s got my tongue.  Mickey goes, ‘Are you kidding, with a pussy this wet?  Just put it in.’  And Butch does, nice and slow but all the way.”

Melissa said, “You’ve got to tell us how that felt.”

Jane shrugged.  “Like a thicker cock.  That was the main difference until they started to move.  Mickey let Butch set the rhythm then — what is it the men say? — got out of step with him.  Now that really felt good!  Turned me to jelly.  I started coming right away and didn’t quit until they did, which wasn’t too long, thank heaven, or I might have died and gone there.  They sure shot me full of juice!  It ran down to my ankles before I could get to the bathroom.”

The three women sat in silence.  Tissie was licking her lips.  At last Melissa said, “I think that tops all our stories — all of mine, at least.”

Tissie sighed.  “Two in your cunny!”  She grinned with a smirk.  “I don’t think you would’ve gone to heaven.”

“That night I’d have gone anywhere they could keep doing it.”

“Well, don’t stop now,” persuaded Melissa.  “What happened when you came back from the bathroom?  You were in a stranger’s room so you must’ve had to stay nude.  Ah.  You wrapped in a bath towel.”

Jane shook her head.  “Didn’t think of it.  Mickey was putting on his clothes.  Butch had flopped on his back, cock drooping.  He goes, ‘That was some fine ass.  You’re a very generous fellow, Mickey.  Thanks a whole lot!’

“I’m thinking, he ought to thank me.  Then I realize that, no, I didn’t even say he could do it.  He’s right to thank Mickey.”

“You didn’t say anything to them?” asked Tissie.

“Yes, I did.  Butch goes, still talking to Mickey, ‘Wonder how I could get Dolly’ — that’s what he called his wife — ‘to make her tongue feel like the end of your dick.’

“That’s when I’m like, ‘Want me to tell her?’

“He stammers, ‘Uh, uh …’ and turns red.  All over.  I had known men could blush but not like that.”

Her listeners smiled.

The threesome sat in silence, contemplating the scene in the mind’s eye.  At last Tissie said, “Blushing men.  Let me tell you about the time I made two of them blush at once.”

Shaking her head, Melissa stood up.  “That’s the dinner bell.  Save it for tomorrow, will you?”


END
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