Written by pandsal
6 Dec 2006
A Beginner's Guide to FFM
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22 minute read
I came away from lunch with Valerie with mixed emotions. Was I shocked? Not really. This, after all, wasn’t some behind-the-times country village; this was 21st Century fashionable Hampstead where supposedly unorthodox relationships weren’t uncommon. What were once regarded as bedroom secrets have become dinner party small talk. So, no, I wasn’t shocked. I admit, though, I was surprised. Valerie was forty-two. She had been my closest friend for so long I’m not sure I can even recall how we first met. Over our monthly lunches we often exchanged confidences about our personal lives but this was the first time Valerie had invoked our friendship in order to make a request of this nature. She said she had deliberated for some time before asking, and she acknowledged that I would probably want to think it over before replying. “Call me,” she said. “At the week-end.” And then, clearly embarrassed, she changed the subject.
The first thing I had to decide was whether I was inclined to go along with what she was asking. The answer was a cautious yes. It wasn’t my scene but I knew I was tempted. The real question was how I would tell David. Or would I tell him at all? In the end, that became the only solution I could contemplate. I had to ask David; if he disapproved, that would be the end of it. The subject, I decided, was best raised in bed.
Happily, David was in the right mood. I had made up my mind to take the initiative - never a hardship for me - but I knew from the way David watched me undress for bed that he was feeling frisky. While I still had my knickers on, I walked to the bed and turned back the covers to disclose David with his hand on his cock. “Very nice,” I said. “Looks as though it doesn’t need much help from me but I’m willing to try.”
“I hoped you would,” said David. As I knelt at his side, he pushed my head into his groin while he reached behind me to slide two fingers inside the leg of my knickers. I sucked carefully until I was sure that he wasn’t too far gone for there to be any danger of a swift conclusion. My cunt was wet and his fingers had found my clit with practised expertise but that was fine: David may not be able to repeat but I have never had that problem.
A groan and a restraining hand on my head told me when to stop. I stripped off the knickers and mounted him. This was always a favourite position for us both. My tits are reasonably firm and he likes to see them bounce before working on the nipples with both hands, which is often all I need to send me over the edge. That night we found the rhythm quickly, allowing me to ride up on his cock without losing contact before taking it back in. Varying the treatment, I alternated between absorbing it with tantalising slowness and driving down hard. Leaning forward slightly enabled David to take a firm grasp of my tits, at the same time ensuring enough friction between cock and clit to bring me close to the boil.
David read the signs in me and began trying to thrust upwards to meet my descending wetness. It was all we needed, and even though he came first I was already so close it needed very little work with my fingers before I joined him.
Composure recovered, I pulled the covers up and snuggled into David. We kissed and caressed in that satisfying afterglow which invariably follows good, loving sex. But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to him about. I wanted to ask him how he would feel if I became involved in a threesome, the kind which gets reduced to basics, I believe, as ffm.
At least he didn’t throw me out of bed though I detected a certain coolness as he listened. When I had finished there was a long pause before he said, “Can I get this straight? Valerie is fearful that her marriage is - well, not exactly on the rocks but maybe heading that way. Is that it?”
“That’s how it sounded.”
“She thinks their sex life is in a rut?”
“Yes.” It was beginning to sound very hackneyed but when I was with her I hadn’t doubted her anxiety.
“And the solution would be for the three of you to get together in bed?”
“She says Julian has often talked in their ... er, intimate moments about seeing two women having sex together. Not lesbians, but two women he could join after ... after he’d watched them.”
“Have you and Valerie ever - ”
“It’s not something I’ve ever thought about. I mean, of course I’ve wondered about bisexuality as an idea. We’ve talked about it, haven’t we? Well, I suppose I’ve sometimes thought I might like to find out how it would be. That’s all though. Just a kind of abstract thought.”
“Yes, but now we’re taking abstract. We’re talking about Valerie. That’s what I meant. Could you with Valerie?”
“I have to be honest: when I think about it now, I’m certainly aroused. But I couldn’t without you knowing. If you say no, I won’t.”
“But now the subject has been raised, it will always be there, won’t it? You‘ll be bound to wonder how it would have been.”
When I said nothing, David knew he was right. Then he asked a question I was hoping to avoid. “Did she say why it just had to be you three? Why not the four of us? Did it occur to either of you that I might have liked to be there, too?”
It had occurred to me but I had said so to Valerie without success. The best she could offer was a lame hint that things “might develop in time.” The bottom line was that Julian’s fantasy had been taking shape for a while, and it didn’t seem susceptible to compromise. Valerie had suggested approaching Polly, a mutual acquaintance whose aphrodisiac effect on men took no account of an IQ in inverse proportion to her bra size. No go for Polly. Julian’s fantasy was fully formed in his mind. Yes, he was visualising a threesome. But not with Polly. The third party had to be me.
David kissed me gently and told me he wanted to sleep on it. He would tell me his decision in the morning. When I turned on my side to sleep, David moulded his body to mine. Although it wasn’t long since we had fucked, his cock was hard.
When I called, Julian answered. I asked for Valerie.
“Is it about ... ?” His eagerness was palpable.
I said, “I think I should speak to Val.”
“Yes, of course.” He sounded as though he’d convinced himself I wasn’t calling with the answer he wanted to hear. “She’s right here.”
“Hi.” Valerie sounded just as tense as her husband. Maybe there really was as much riding on this as she had insisted. “What’s the news?”
“Well, I’ve had a long talk with David.”
“Well, the answer is yes. But it’s not that straightforward.”
“How do you mean?”
“What David says is yes, OK. But sauce for the goose and all that. Do you see what he’s thinking.”
There was a the other end. I could imagine her frowning at Julian. “You mean what’s good for you has to be good for him, too. He might want to find - ”
“So what do you think?” There was a slight tremble in her voice. This wasn’t the Valerie I thought I knew. But then this was the first time we had contemplated putting on a sex show for her husband. Who would probably want to fuck one or both of us afterwards.
“I’ve done a deal with him. He’s promised not to take advantage of his side of the bargain straight away. Instead, he’s agreed to me - to me doing what we talked about, provided I tell him all about it afterwards. Every detail. So that’s where we are.”
“You mean it’s on?”
“I guess so. But listen, frankly, I don’t want to save your marriage and lose mine. I don’t want David to take up his option.”
“Can you stop him? I mean - you’ve agreed.”
“I’ve agreed to tell him what happens. But suppose I could offer him better than that?”
“I only thought of this today. Do you have a video camera?”
“Yes, why?” Then the penny dropped. “Oh, I see.”
“More to the point - David would see. Could you cope with that?”
“I don’t have any choice, do I? Anyway, thinking about it, I don’t care. I might even enjoy it. Would you?”
“I don’t know. But I guess I’m going to find out.”
“Soon. Before I lose my nerve. Tomorrow night? How’s that for you?”
“Let me ask Julian.”
I could hear their subdued conversation but couldn’t make out what was said until Julian himself came on the line. Somewhat to my surprise, he sounded nervous, not as gung-ho as I’d expected. “Claire, I don’t quite know what to say. But it will be good. I’m sure of that. We both want it to be good.”
“Really both of you?”
“Oh yes. Val is - “ He broke off, then spoke again, lowering his voice as though anxious not to be over heard. “Are you alone?”
“Well listen, I’m putting my hand up Val’s skirt. Right now, while we’re talking.” Then there was a pause. I heard Val making unmistakable soft sounds. When Julian spoke again, he was talking to his wife. “I’m right, aren’t I darling? You’re very wet. This is turning you on, isn’t it?” I gathered that Valerie was admitting as much. Presumably she couldn’t deny the evidence of his fingers. “And that’s nice, too, isn’t it - when I do that?”
A picture was forming in my mind. Still holding the phone to my ear, I used the other hand to turn back my skirt. I wasn’t surprised to find that I was wet, too.
“Still there, Claire?”
“Val’s going to take care of me now. Aren’t you, Val? Open my zip. That’s it. And now - yes. Like that. That’s good. Nice and slow now.”
My hand, already inside the waistband of my knickers, sought my clitoris, found it, began to rub. In my ear for a while there was only the sound of Julian’s deep breathing. Valerie must have been performing brilliantly because he came quite quickly. A long groan of pure relief was followed by a short silence, then, “Claire - I hope you didn’t mind. It’s just that you given us such hope and I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry.”
I told him not to apologise because, in a way I had never known before, it had been good for me, too.
“Till tomorrow, then. Can we say seven o’clock?”
I said we could. Then I put the phone down and finished myself off. Often I find solitary masturbation doesn’t do a lot for me and the orgasm takes time. Not that one. It was turning into quite a day. On my way to my first ffm I had just been initiated into phone sex.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” Someone had to put the question and I decided it might as well be me. We had been together, Julian, Valerie and I, for more than an hour - and there was no erotic charge. It had all been too calculated. We were like people who had decided they wanted to learn how to rumba or tango because it was the fashionable dance, but not one of us had an ounce of rhythm.
We all knew why we were there. In our different ways I guess we had all been looking forward to it. We just didn’t know how to start. At one point Julian actually said, “Well, I’ll get the camera if you two want to get going with each other.” Valerie and I just looked at each other, eager to make it work but not knowing whether to laugh or cry because we just weren’t turned on. In fact, I thought, the only person getting any kind of sexual charge would be David, masturbating at home with a pair of knickers I had left him to use while he was picturing the ffm in full swing.
Eventually, we settled into a serious conversation about Valerie and Julian’s difficulty. It was clearly serious. They acknowledged they both had a high sex drive but had simply lost the spark with each other. There were various fantasies games they played to preserve something and sex generally followed but they were running out of ideas. The hope they were clinging to was the ffm possibility. Not just any ffm. Bizarrely, I had become an essential participant. Julian’s fixation, we all understood, wasn’t funny at all.
None of which simplified my dilemma. I didn’t want to see my best friend’s marriage fall apart but I couldn’t solve the problem all on my own. It didn’t help that I knew - and they knew - that I could go home to David and tell him the deal was off. I could sort us out in half-an-hour on my back with my legs and mouth open. But where would that leave Valerie and Julian. The argument kept going round in circles.
By ten-thirty, with us no further forward, I felt it was time to make my farewells. Julian couldn’t hide his disappointment but Valerie tried to be light-hearted when I said I was sorry it hadn’t been a success. Oh, well,” she said, pulling a face at Julian, “I’ll just have to put up with a spanking.”
During our previous conversation about the games they played there had been a passing mention of spanking that hadn’t really registered with me. But now, suddenly, I heard myself say, “Seriously?” I had turned to face them with my coat half on.
Valerie looked at Julian with a shrug. “It helps sometimes, doesn’t it Jules?” She hadn’t detected anything in my response but Julian had. It was as though a sudden electric current passed between us. “Would you like to watch?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I think I would like that very much.”
Without saying another word, Julian took my coat, threw it on to a chair and immediately headed upstairs. Valerie, however, put a hand on my arm to detain me from following. Looking into my eyes, she asked,. “You’re not just doing this for me, are you?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “But I don’t think so.”
I’m not so naive that I don’t realise that spanking games suit some people’s tastes but it had never arisen even as a possibility between David and me. Yet here the idea had provided the spark of spontaneity that had eluded us all evening. I couldn’t guess where it might lead but I knew I had to find out.
In the bedroom Julian was already in charge. I noticed a tripod set up at one side of the bed. Handing me the camera, he asked, “You know how one of these things works?”
We had one at home though it had never occurred to me to use it for anything other than holiday movies. Handling it now played into my growing state of anticipation. I opened the mini screen and switched on the battery. By the time I was ready to press the record button Julian was sitting on the edge of the bed with Valerie face down across his lap. Her blonde hair fell in a curtain across her face. Her arms dangled meekly towards the floor. Julian peeled back her skirt. She was wearing black knickers and stockings, the whiteness of her thighs emphasised by black suspender straps.
Julian beckoned me to move nearer. When he saw that I was focussing the camera on his wife’s bottom he began caressing the fabric where it was taut across her buttocks. “Val needs to have her arse slapped,” he said. “It’s a nice tight arse. It turns her on. Doesn’t it, Val?”
“Just do it, Jules. You know I need it. I've been wanting it all day. Do it hard.” Whether this was true or just part of the game they played I had no way of knowing. I concentrated on controlling my breathing so that the camera wouldn’t waver. Julian continued stroking the roundness with his right hand while holding her down with his left.
“Do it, please. Smack my arse. Make it hurt.”
My hands were perspiring. I was trying to keep the camera steady so as not to spoil the intensity of the moment I was capturing. I could hardly believe what had happened. From an atmosphere of apologetic disappointment, the sexual temperature had gone off the scale. As far as I could tell, Julian and Valerie were faking nothing. Nor were they consciously putting on a show for me. Whereas on other occasions this may have been merely a kind of ritual foreplay, I was convinced that my presence had made it something infinitely more exciting in which we were all involved, lead us where it would.
“I think we need the knickers off first,” Julian said. “Then I’ll give you what you want - but not so there isn’t something left for Claire.” He looked at me for approval. There was no turning back now. I didn’t know how I would contribute but I knew I would want to.
The knickers slithered into a black pool on the floor at my feet. On an impulse, I picked them up and held them to Julian’s face. He took them from me and immediately began to tan his wife’s buttocks. I widened the camera lens to record his arm sweeping down, before zooming in to catch the next solid smack at the moment of impact. The flesh was beginning to redden but Valerie was making little yelps of pleasure. “Go on, Jules. You know I can take it.”
Julian had other intentions. He lifted Valerie from his lap and placed her, face upwards, on the bed. Taking the camera from my hands, he said, “There you are, Claire. She’s all yours. You’ll find she’s very wet and ready for a good tonguing.”
There was no clearer indication of disappearing inhibitions than the alacrity with which I took up his invitation. I knelt at the side of the bed between Valerie’s dangling legs and plunged my head towards the lips Valerie was now holding open with two hands. I had seen my own vulva in a mirror but never had I been been able to examine so minutely the sexual organs of another woman. I paused, taking in the blonde downy triangle, the puffy labia, the pink opening already gleaming with moisture. At the first tentative contact, with the very tip of my tongue, Valerie’s whole body jerked before she used her hands to pull me on to her.
The rest came easily and instinctively. I licked, nibbled and sucked. I inserted two fingers while I transferred my oral attention to the clitoris. Julian was moving from side to side with the camera which, I presumed, was picking up Valerie’s sobs of pleasure to go with the pictures. Removing my fingers, I poked my tongue deep into a delicious cavern that was beginning to leak salty juices. I licked them in, savouring the flavour on my tongue, When I returned to the clitoris, I felt the tremors from Valerie’s inner thighs and the clutching pressure on the back of my head that told me her orgasm was on her. I was still wondering whether she would want me to ease back and delay the climax when a huge convulsion told me I was too late. My only concern then was to stay in contact, mouth to labia, but gently now as she slowly wound down from her intense high.
That was only the preliminary. When I felt that she had enjoyed my affectionate attention, I turned her over, intending to impart soothing caresses where she had recently felt her husband’s merciless hand. But I had greatly underestimated the erotic fever which had taken charge of me, transformed me into a sexual predator who was driven to explore a whole new world. An hour earlier I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of my next action. Now, however, unhesitatingly, voraciously, I parted her buttocks to expose the sphincter, round, tiny and pink. Once again I took a few seconds to enjoy the view, then began to explore. The moment my tongue made contact, Valerie gave a long, low moan. “Oh my God, Claire, that’s wonderful. Look, Julian, she’s licking my arsehole. Can you see? Have you got the camera? She’s going to make me come again.”
In fact, a second orgasm just then wasn’t my intention. Anyway, when I looked round for Julian I saw that he had fixed the camera on the tripod and turned it in our general direction before ripping off his clothes. His cock was rigid and he was caressing it with alternate hands, looking at me to see if I was watching him pleasuring himself. I certainly was because here was another surprise. David’s cock is probably no more than average in length and girth but it never disappoints, probably because of the skill with which he uses it. Julian’s, though, was a monster and it seemed to grow with every stroke. If Valerie really was bored with such an instrument, the belief that size isn’t everything must be true.
I wasn’t, though, to find out at once. Julian was still living out his fantasy. “Claire, darling, that was magnificent. I can assure you she hasn’t come like that for a long time.” He smiled, moistening his lips. “And one good turn deserves another - isn’t that so, Val?”
His wife understood before I did: Julian wanted to see her go down on me. The difference this time was that he made sure we were positioned where the camera had a reasonable view from its tripod. Julian himself wanted a close-up view with his hands free to manipulate his rampant organ.
First, Valerie and I had to remove what remained of our rumpled clothing. Unfastening my bra from behind, she took the opportunity to cup my breasts and tweak the nipples. I always respond to that kind of treatment and, as soon as she saw how prominent they were, she thrust them towards her husband who bent his head and licked first one then the other. I’d been wearing a lime green undie set that David always enjoys because the french knickers allow him a sneaky feel when we’re in the car. When Valerie handed them to Julian, he carefully applied them to the bulging circumcised head of his cock. I noticed a small damp stain spread from his precum.
The reciprocal bout of cunnilingus was sensational. Where I had been all instinct and eagerness, Valerie dispensed controlled expertise. I can only surmise that I wasn’t the first woman she had practised her skill on; there could be no other explanation for her ability to take me to the edge, hold me there, lead me away, then start me throbbing all over again, reaching for the stars. Julian knelt on the bed beside us, murmuring encouragement to Valerie, who needed none. Finally he told her to make me come. “Give it to her, Val,” he whispered huskily, “give it to her.” As he spoke, he moved until he was beside my head, his huge, stiff cock looming over my face. I knew what he wanted and I had no hesitation in providing it. I opened my mouth and he fed me the knob.
Some sexual magic was upon us that night. As I started to buck in rhythm to Valerie’s cunning tongue, I reached up and grasped Julian’s rigid shaft. It took longer than I had expected - largely, I think now, as a result of Valerie’s consummate control - but at the very moment I gave myself up to the spasm of ultimate release, I was aware of my hand bringing Julian to that same incomparable moment. Jets of salty cum hit the back of my throat. Valerie had fingers inside me, prolonging an orgasm of indescribable intensity.
That wasn’t the end of the adventure by any means. Valerie and I took turns in sucking Julian to erection again. Then we took turns at taking him into our cunts, doggy style and missionary. I watched first to see how easily my friend was able to accommodate his massive length. When I offered myself to him, I realised that flexible flesh and copious self-lubrication would make it easy. And so it was. He came again, though less forcefully than before. Valerie and I brought each other off with tongues and fingers.
When I returned home, David was waiting in an armchair. My knickers were on the floor at his side. When I picked them up, I was pleased to find that they had served their purpose. “How was it for you?” I asked.
“Strange,” he replied. “Exciting even. Wondering. Thinking. But I don’t think I’d want to do it often. How about you?”
“That was strange, too. But good in the end. Very good, if I’m honest.”
“Tell me, then. Everything. You promised me that.”
I shook my head. Let me show you. From my handbag, I produced the tiny cassette. By the time David had set up our camera and hooked it up to the computer, I had stripped down to my bra and knickers for the second time that night.