So, our mutual ex girlfriend came to visit the other day and it WAS NOT what I fantasized about.
Despite my better judgement we met her anyway.
Like I said, I had better knowledge of her, how she is and I knew better. Her body called to me and I needed to be between those thick thighs of hers, see her pretty body as she lay on her tummy with that beautiful ass waiting for us…
Yea, all that was fantasy. She can drink quite a bit and she can become a bit messy and aggressive for no reason… to put things nicely. I asked her to not drink too much before we arrived to pick her up. If anything, drink when we got back to the house! Relax and get into our groove.
When we arrived she was 2 drinks from smashed. She was drunk talking already and wouldn’t stop. I knew then to turn around, go home and call everything off.
I couldn’t. She’d went shopping to dress up for us, still had the damn tags on as she put on her new wig and fixed her makeup. She’s not a sloppy drunk, she can function, doesn’t slur, doesn’t wobble, didn’t look like a clown when her makeup was done. She assured us she was in traveling condition and she’d be okay. She could still come with us.
We knew better but we waited for her to finish getting ready, walked her down the stairs and into our car.
The minute we got in the car and started driving she started her shit. Being West Indian she can be somewhat verbally aggressive and she can also be very loud. Both are TOTALLY not my wave, unnerving and a complete turn off.
I like calm, cool, relaxed, funny even. Just not loud and aggressive. She’s in the back seat just going on and on in a loud, very hardcore almost gangster-level aggressive tone about how she’s always wanted to be with us, how she chose us, how we should be honored she chose to spend time with us, how much money she has, how she’s no bum bitch, she can always pay for this and that and all the irrelevant bullshit nobody wanted to hear when we were trying to be nice and romantic and then go home and have awesome, intimate sex. We tried to talk her into calmness, but that didn’t work. We even tried to play nice, slow R&B…loudly, and that didn’t work, she just got louder.
We took a very romantic drive down Manhattan’s West Side, playing nice modern jazz music so she could enjoy the view of the water and sail boats but it didn’t deter her drunken rant. Somewhere along the drive I’d had enough and told my husband to pull off the highway because she had to get on the train and go home. I couldn’t tolerate one more moment of her shit. She couldn’t calm down no matter what we did. I just could not deal with her no matter how badly I wanted her in my bed.
He did pull off the highway and onto an avenue with a train station a few blocks down. I informed her she had to get out and go home, I’d had enough. She immediately became a normal fucking person and seemed to comprehend her bullshit had hit it’s limit. All of a sudden she could speak in a normal tone and she could allow me to speak to her without yelling over me. She asked us to take her with us, to not send her home and she promised she would act right.
That statement right there let me know she knew what the fuck she was doing the entire time.
I walked into the store, bought the three of us Gatorade and when I came out decided to stop at the flower stand while my husband continued to talk her into calmness in the car. He’s a very calming person and he hadn’t been successful thus far either. I was hoping as the Mexican guy wrapped her roses & baby breath she’d calm down before I got back in the car.
I pulled her out of the car by her hand, gently stood her on her feet and presented her with her rose. I told her she was just as beautiful as the rose and I’d love to keep her with me, as I hoped she’d keep my rose, but I couldn’t keep her with me if she kept on with the drama.
She accepted the rose, promised to stop the yelling and aggressive behavior, slid her thick warm body into my arms and apologized as we embraced on the sidewalk near the car.
No sooner than we got back in and pulled off she started right back up again. We were going over a gorgeous bridge with the city surrounding us. We turned the music up, enjoyed the groove of the music over her and tried to hold on until we reached home.
When we reached home it got way worse. it didn’t get better. We enjoy a very quiet, calm environment in our home and no matter how many times I asked her to keep her voice down she just refused. After her going on and on and on my husband finally made the first move and just pulled out her breasts and began sucking on them.
I couldn’t touch her. I just couldn’t. I was so turned off, so disgusted with her behavior she was no longer appealing. It didn’t turn me on to see him with her either. I felt nothing.
Due to my lack of participation it kind of fizzled out quickly. She needed food to absorb her alcohol so we got her something to eat. She ate and passed out.
My husband and I stayed up a little longer than she did. When we went to lay down I didn’t want to be near her at all.
Now I have to describe this woman. She’s about 5’5 or 5’6, 38D, slim waist, very wide hips with a matching big, round ass, very smooth chocolate skin, Brazilian wax with a perfect V.
When she laid down naked with her semi naked body spread on my bed one could almost hear angels sing. That night I heard no music. At all.
My husband was kind of pissed I wouldn’t engage. It had been more than a year since we shared a woman and he was totally looking forward to it no matter what issues we had through the night. I don’t operate that way. I can be easily turned off. Once I’m off. I’m off.
Before she went to sleep she told us if she passed out we could ‘wake her up’ however we wanted to. We assured her we would do just that.
We decided to sleep with her in the middle. I’m not used to sleeping anywhere but wrapped up in him. To have a woman between us was very, very uncomfortable when once it was just right.
I didn’t want her next to him. I wanted him in my arms.
She missed him. As she slept she moaned, reached for him, lay her head on his chest and wrapped herself around my husband. In an instant I wanted to cry.
He sensed my emotions even though I was on the other side of the bed and he couldn’t see me. I didn’t reach to wrap myself around her as I did in the past. I turned my back, moved toward the far edge of the bed to leave them snuggling.
I glanced over my shoulder as the bed rocked a bit and I heard sucking sounds. He’d reached into her panties and sucked on her breast as she slept. She moaned a bit, wiggled a bit and I felt myself stiffen as something similar to a knife pierced through my gut.
I hadn’t felt this way in over 20 years when I first allowed my loved one to sleep with another woman. He reached for me across her waist, I pulled away from him and moved further away. He got very, very upset. He said I was torturing him by not being ‘into’ the threesome after we’d waited so long to have her with us. He said I was being unfair and ‘fucked up’. I told him he couldn’t make me want her and it’s fucked up he couldn’t respect I didn’t want to be with her. If he wanted to, he could if it was that serious, but how painful is that?
Truth is, I’ve lost A LOT of weight in the past 3 years. I went on a weight loss mission. From a size 12 down to a size 4 through dietary changes. I was very bottom heavy with a very wide round ass and hips, almost exactly the way she looks. He complained about my weight loss as I achieved my goal around size 5. Where I was proud of myself and happy with my new look, it turned him off. He wanted her so bad he decided to disregard my feelings and pay more attention to his lust. He just had to have her. She was half sleep but reaching for him as he reached for her, I left the room as he put himself inside of her and rocked her ass on his hips.
I ran for the bathroom gagging, quietly, so I wouldn’t interrupt them and he be even more upset at my ruining his opportunity to be with her.
While I was gagging I pictured him inside of her, heard her moan a little and gagged harder. I ran for the kitchen where I could close the door and block out any sounds. It didn’t work. Although she wasn’t fully awake she felt him, I heard her moan and our futon squeaking as he pushed himself inside her.
I ran for my daughter’s room. The furthest room in the house from mine. I threw myself on her bed, stuck my thumb in my mouth and cried like a baby. Deep sobbing cries that came from my soul.
He was mine. He wanted her. It hurt. It hurt in a way I didn’t understand. We’d shared her countless times. I’ve cum watching him make her squeal. What the hell was happening inside of me?
I love more than I ever have.
That’s what happened.
He is mine, he makes me feel magic when he touches me, like I’ve entered heavens gates. He melts me into him and every single nerve ending is ignited, every sense on fire when he makes love to me.
The thought of him giving those feelings to another woman killed a piece of me. He is naturally passionate. He touches her hip the same as he holds mine, he suckles at her breasts as eagerly as he does mine, maybe more so considering I’m an A cup she’s a size D. He touches her the same way he touches me. I couldn’t stand it.
I composed myself and walked back into my bedroom as he was pulling himself out of her and taking the condom off.
His guilt distorted his face as he asked me if I’d look at him differently, if he would be able to touch me or make love to me again.
I didn’t answer him. I slid in the bed next to her, pushing myself to the far edge. I covered myself and went to sleep.
We drove her home in the morning. She promised to come over again, sober and hopefully make love to the both of us. She felt bad about that morning as well.
She was supposed to come by for his birthday yesterday.
She did not. A part of us was grateful.
Tomorrow I have a date with a married woman who holds no interest in my husband as far as I know.
It is her and I.
I am a biwife, and for now, this is what I prefer.
He and I can still have threesomes I believe. Just not with our ex. There’s too much there, and it’s not right.
If she were compatible with both of us, and there wasn’t the history we have, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much.
Then again, maybe it would have.
We’ll find out should we have another threesome.
-Jay Dee, Founder