JOAN GREY

 

"The temperature's ninety-seven.  It's another scorcher, folks," the radio

blared from the back porch.

 

Joan Grey lay face down on the beach towel by the swimming pool in her back

yard.  She released the bows holding her bikini top in place and pulled her

Grey hair up to let the sun tan her neck.

 

Because of the rock and roll thumping from the radio, she didn't hear the

click of the gate lock as two men entered the yard. They stopped to admire

her.

 

Joan was thirty-nine and the mother of three, but you'd never know it by

looking at her. Her legs were lean and long, her ass high and hard, her

waist relatively narrow, all from hours of aerobics and attention to diet.

Her breasts were a perfect C cup.

 

Her face, hidden from men's view, was her best feature.  Alive with smiles

and twinkling eyes, it revealed a sexy and intelligent woman, a woman who

enjoyed her life and its pleasures.

 

"She's always made my cock hard," one of the men whispered to the other.

 

"Me, too," was the reply.

 

"Hi, Mrs. Grey," one sang out.

 

Joan Grey jerked up to see who called her.  Gracefully, she pivoted with

her back toward them and refastened her top.  The thong bottoms revealed her

shapely ass before she slipped on the coverup and stood.  She wrapped the

towel around her like a sarong and tucked it in.

 

"Don't you boys know how to knock?" she asked as she walked toward them.

 

"We rang the bell, but there wasn't an answer," one of them said.

 

Her eyes flickered down them.  Twenty-one-year-old twins with shocks of

light Grey hair and blue eyes over boyish grins, they were a little more

than six feet tall, with the muscled hardness of weightlifting and swimming.

They wore only skin-tight biking shorts.

 

"Hello, Jeremy.  Hello, Jason," she said, giving each a hug and polite

social kiss on the cheek.  "You know the girls aren't here, so why are you?"

 

"We wanted to talk to you."

 

"We've got a problem we need to discuss."

 

"Let's sit in the shade.  Do you want some lemonade?" Joan asked.

 

"Please."

 

A lounger and two folding chairs were on the porch.  When Joan returned from

the kitchen, the boys were ensconced in the chairs.  She handed them their

lemonades before reclining on the lounger with her legs tucked under her.

She tugged the coverup around her.

 

"What's the problem?" she asked.

 

"Sex."

 

"Sex?" Joan snickered.  "Two college studs asking an old married woman for

advice about sex?  What's this world coming to?"

 

"Please don't laugh, Mrs. Grey.  It's a real problem for us."

 

"Do you think you should be discussing sex with the mother of your

girlfriends?" Joan asked, with a warm and sexy smile.

 

"This time, you're the only person we can talk to."

 

"It's a different kind of problem."

 

"This isn't about my daughters, is it?" she said.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean Elaine, Emily, and I discuss everything," she lied.

 

"Everything?"

 

"You don't mean it."

 

"Yes, I do.  Everything," she lied again.

 

"Fabulous.  That makes it easier."

 

"Yeah.  A lot easier.  There are things we didn't know we could discuss with

you."

 

"If we're going to talk about sex, we may as well be open and honest with

each other.  After all, we're almost family," she said.

 

"That's true.  We're going to marry them, but you know that."

 

"Yes," Joan said with a warm smile.

 

"And you're right.  Our problem isn't about them.  They're both dynamite in

bed."

 

"Hot little sex kittens who purr when you stroke them."

 

"I can't decide which one is best.  I love fucking both of them."

 

Joan tightened and her eyes widened at this revelation, but she fought to

control her emotions and appear nonplused.

 

"And they both enjoy fucking us."

 

She laughed with a hint of nervousness.

 

The men didn't speak. She looked away, but as her eyes moved to the roses

along the edge of the patio, she saw their erections, flat against their

stomachs, outlined in their shorts.  Questions flitted through her mind.

 

Joan, her emotions back under control, said, "Now, what's the problem you

want to discuss?"

 

"It's a question about sexual ethics really."

 

"Oh, what kind of question," she asked.

 

"There's a woman."

 

"A very special woman."

 

"Yes, a woman who's sexy as hell."

 

"We want to have sex with her, but we're not sure how to approach her."

 

"Did it ever occur to you that you're asking your future mother-in-law how

to commit adultery?" Joan asked, frowning at them.

 

"Oh, come on, Mrs. Grey.  Since Elaine and Emily told you everything, you

know they've agreed that we can have sex with other women when we want to."

 

"And that they won't have sex with other men without our permission."

 

"We've had other women, but they haven't had other men yet."

 

Joan nodded.  She couldn't speak at that moment.

 

"One married woman joined us for a fivesome.  It was awesome.  You should've

seen the three girls making love to each other, but I'm sure the girls told

you about it."

 

The men could tell from her face she was unaware of that adventure.

 

"We've had sex with her when Elaine and Emily weren't there, too."

 

"Does the woman's husband know?" Joan asked.

 

"Yes, he does."

 

"He's a guy who likes to watch his wife fuck other men."

 

"So we fucked her and let him watch."

 

"Mrs. Grey, didn't you know some men like to watch their wife have sex?"

 

"I'd heard about it, but I didn't believe it," she replied.

 

"They certainly do."

 

"We didn't let him watch when it was the five of us, just when we fucked her

without Elaine and Emily there."

 

"We never told anyone who she is.  We kept it secret."

 

"We know discretion's the key to having sex with married women.  They're

much more likely to agree if they know no one will find out."

 

"We are discreet."

 

"Very discreet.  We've fucked others.  Some are married."

 

"And some aren't.  No one will ever know."

 

"It doesn't sound like you need any advice from me.  You two seem to know

what you're doing," Joan said.

 

"This woman's different.  She's older."

 

"But that only makes us want her more."

 

"What do you want to ask me?" Joan asked cautiously.

 

"How should we do it?"

 

"Approach her, we mean."

 

"I need a drink.  Would you like something stronger than lemonade?" Joan

asked.

 

"No, thanks."

 

"Me neither, thanks."

 

Inside, Joan made a bourbon and water, downed half of it, and refreshed her

glass.  When she returned, she sat back down in the lounger.  Jeremy and

Jason pulled their chairs closer to her.  For a moment, she felt surrounded.

She tugged the towel around her legs.

 

"Well?"

 

"What should we do?"

 

"Married women usually don't commit adultery and every woman's different.

Since I don't know her, I'm not sure how I can advise you," Joan said.

 

"We know she's had an affair and we know who the man is."

 

"She may have had more than one."

 

"She's so sensual and sexy, I can't imagine her not having an affair."

 

"I can't imagine men not beating down her door."

 

"If she did have an affair, do you have any idea why she did it?" Joan

asked.

 

"Maybe she just enjoys fucking.  She sure looks like she enjoys it."

 

"Her husband travels a lot.  Maybe it's horniness."

 

"I think it's because she's all woman."

 

"She's definitely all woman."

 

"You sound like you really want her," Joan said softly.

 

"I do."

 

"Me, too.  I want her as much as any woman I've ever met."

 

"As much as Elaine or Emily?" Joan asked.

 

"Yes."

 

"Definitely yes."

 

"That doesn't put down our ladies."

 

"No.  It tells how much we want her."

 

"She's more mature, more, hell, I don't know."

 

"Knowing, like she's a font of sexual knowledge."

 

"Knowledge she's willing to share."

 

"She's one hell of a woman."

 

Joan Grey reclined in the lounger and stretched out her legs, crossing them

at the ankle.  She lay her arms on the lounger's arms with her hands

dangling from the end.

 

"Mrs. Grey, can I borrow your towel, please?"

 

"Why?" she asked.

 

"All this sex talk has aroused me and these shorts are too tight.  If I

covered myself with the towel, I could pull off my shorts."

 

She hesitated and he tugged at the edge of the towel.  She released it where

it was tucked in and raised her hips to let him pull it away. He wrapped the

towel around himself, pulled off his shorts, and kicked them away.

 

"That feels better."

 

"Hell, how about me?  My hardon's killing me."

 

"There are more towels inside," Joan said.

 

"There's no need to get up.  Let me have your coverup.  It'll work just

fine."

 

"I don't know," she said, but their hands were already helping her remove

it.

 

As they removed her coverup, their fingers dragged across her skin, making

it tingle.  She felt the goosebumps starting near her collarbone and running

down her chest.

 

When she sat back, she started to cover her breasts with her arms.  She

realized she was virtually naked and in the presence of two virile young men

whose genitals were covered by only a thin piece of cloth.  When she crossed

her legs to hide the wetness in the bikini bottoms and forced herself to lay

her arms on the lounger's arms, she was acutely aware the bikini top

emphasized her breasts and hard nipples rather than hiding them.

 

She quickly glanced at the tented towel in his lap as he sat back and

splayed his legs.  She closed her eyes and leaned back.  Her skin was

prickly, her heart thudding beneath her breasts.  She tried to fight the

desire rising in every fiber of her body.

 

"Mrs. Grey?" one of them asked quietly, as he put his hand on her knee.

 

"Yes," she replied as she uncrossed her ankles and spread them six inches or

so.

 

"Back to her, to the woman we want so desperately.  We've got other ideas

about why she had an affair with someone else and may have one with us."

 

"What ideas?" Joan asked.  There was a tinge of unfocused dreaminess in her

voice.

 

"Maybe she likes big cocks.  We do have big cocks and some women think that'

s important.  What do you think?"

 

"It depends on the woman and on the cock," Joan said with a wry smile.  "But

it sounds like you're bragging."

 

He let the towel drop away, revealing his erection.

 

"Am I bragging, Mrs. Grey?" he asked softly.

 

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his cock.  Her breathing quickened.

 

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