3plus/pierpont
                                       Ellen
                               Game at Pierpointe, The
                   Bill became addicted (although he objects to my use of this word)
                  to card games in the marines. Now, bi-weekly Friday night poker had
                   become a ritual with him his friends, held most often at our home,
                 "Pierpointe," which we named after the fifty-foot pier that stretches
                 out over the lake behind our home from the land's edge.  Each evening
                  the pier looks like a walkway to the sun that sets across the water.
                   Like young boys, they'd nick-named themselves the "nautilus pack"
                  because of their mutual membership in a local health club. I usually
                   went to plays, concerts, or movies on those nights with a divorced
                                           friend, Christine.
                   Last May, Christine confided that each of these "pack members" had
                 occasional flings, except "of course, for Bill." She had learned this
                  from Paul, with whom she was once involved for almost three months.
                 I was a bit stunned at her mention of Tom, a one-time seminary student
                   who had been a friend of Bill's since their days as Reconnaisance
                   Marines up to 9 years before. I couldn't have imagined Tom playing
                                                around!
                  Over the next two weeks I'd find myself awakening after wild dreams
                     with faceless men who, I somehow realized, played poker every
                                             other Friday.
                  The day before the next game, I begged off that night out with Chris
                                            and laid a plan.
                   As I helped Bill prepare snacks and drinks, I was dressed in high,
                  red heels and a red cotton dress, slit along the side almost to the
                   waist, without undergarments or hose; Bill encourages me to dress
                  provocatively and glanced at me occasionally, smiling. Because he's
                    a "watcher," he doesn't mind friends seeing me in these outfits.
                    I'd left my shoulder-length black hair down instead of its usual
                   twist and greeted each of the three men who arrived. Each glanced
                 in approval of my long, bared leg but of course said nothing about it.
                    I served single drinks and snacks in small bowls to make sure my
                   presence was frequent; Bill and I took pleasure in noticing their
                    eyes following me to and from the kitchen. Finally, I relaxed on
                   the sofa, watching them, my stockingless legs crossed and bared by
                                         the slit in the dress.
                    An hour later, Tom pushed from the table and grinned, "I'm out.
                 Sorry it was so early, but you guys have been dealing me lousy hands."
                 Recognizing my chance, I blurted, "Why don't you use me as your chip?"
                  When they asked what I meant, I smiled, playfully, "If he's beaten,
                   the winner can go to bed with me." I said it as if a joke, so that
                   Bill could give me a disapproving look, in which case I'd back off
                                gracefully, without seeming to mean it.
                  The men were in a hilarious uproar, with hoots and shouts of "Whoa!"
                                            and "All right!"
                   I trembled with fear a moment, wondering if I hadn't gone too far
                 this time. I watched Bill carefully; he pursed his lips thoughtfully,
                                    then smiled, nodding his assent.
                    I sobered and told them, "I really mean it. The winner gets ME!"
                    Assured by Bill that we were serious, the other three men played
                   with furious intent, their attitudes changing from playfulness to
                 quiet lust. Now and then, they looked toward me as I sat on the couch,
                  my fearful, trembling passion rising. I don't know who was the most
                                          excited, me or them.
                  Bill lost purposely. To hurry the game along, the remaining players
                  drew for the highest card. Paul won the draw. All were now breathing
                    heavily, leering, as I stood staring at the men in the dimness,
                    the shadow of my figure beneath my dress purposely outlined for
                  their pleasure by a table lamp behind me. Knowing the danger of not
                 involving them all, I murmured, my voice quaking, "I want all of you,
                    but Paul's the winner, and he'll be first." I walked up to him,
                    took him by the hand and, blowing a kiss at Bill, turned for the
                                         stairs to our bedroom.
                   My body trembled as Paul closed the door and took me in his arms.
                     "I can't really believe this is happening, Ellen," he told me,
                    nervously.

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 Kissing me deeply, his hands moved from my back to my
                  soft breasts as I unzipped his gray slacks, stroking his stiffening
                  manhood. I was glued to the spot, unable to talk; my breasts heaved
                          as he unbuttoned my dress, sliding it to the floor.
                   Knowing Paul's wife for as long as I had heightened my desire for
                    this delicious sin. I unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled down his
                    slacks as I kneeled to worship the long engorged member curving
                    up before me. My hands shook as I held his slender hips. My lips
                  trembled, enveloping his velvety, purple-veined manhood. As my lips
                   slid up and down his length, my eyes rolled up to watch his face.
                    He stared back, chewing his lower lip in excitation as his hands
                  gripped my head. Tremoring frightfully, I lay back on our waterbed.
                  He hovered above me, spreading my legs, then pushed his cock between
                   my cuntal lips as I moaned. I'd wanted to express my passion, but
                   the words caught in my throat. My breath huffed in excitation as I
                          stared down at the huge instrument sinking into me.
                      He thrust into me. My cuntal walls smoldered as I mewed with
                    each entry. I shut my eyes, then locked my legs around his hips,
                   my body lifting from the waterbed with each shuddering withdrawal.
                    Paul's wonderful rod tunneled deeper. My mouth formed an "oh" of
                   thrilling ecstasy, my eyes opening widely to watch his instrument
                                            driving into me.
                  The door opened to the room's dimness as Leo and Tom entered, nude,
                   each walking to a separate side of our bed. My husband was leaning
                            against the doorjam, pumping his cock furiously.
                  Paul acknowledged them but continued fucking me as my tremoring hand
                 reached to stroke Leo's already hard member. I took Tom's cock into my
                  mouth as Leo leaned over to suckle my breast, my screams of pleasure
                    muffled by the broad cock fucking in and out of my hungry mouth.
                   I delighted in the sinful knowledge that these men were married to
                                          my closest friends.
                 Paul fucked me with frenzy as I stroked Tom. I took Leo's full length
                                       between my tremoring lips.
                 An explosion was building. All were wailing, our eyes glazed. I pumped
                  Tom's cock furiously, relishing the feel of his soft outer skin that
                    slipped over the hardness beneath. My head rolled in excitation
                   as I felt the throbbing of pre-eruption! My hair flailed the air.
                   A firestorm raging through me, I thrashed beneath the men like the
                              maiden prize of an ancient conquering army.
                    Leo's long rubbery cock was sliding through the smoothness of my
                  mouth; with each wet entry beyond the back of my throat, I felt the
                    galactic shudders of an onrushing orgasm, rolling toward me like
                  an avalanche. As Paul's hips gyrated, twisting his cock deep within,
                     my groin irradiated with desire. I was whimpering in delight.
                   Paul tensed as the breadth of his cock now expanded, inflaming my
                    inner coals. "Oh God, yes!" I moaned as I realized he was about
                    to come. I writhed in ecstasy as his thrilling tempo increased.
                 Bill's nostrils flared, his eyes wild as he watched from the doorway.
                   Then, he squinted, his lips apart as he gripped his cock. His head
                  snapped forward as he groaned, "Oh, Goddddd!" And then, we all were
                    coming in unison! I writhed in ecstasy! 3 men! The full galaxy's
                         array of stars were exploding in orgasmic super-novas.
                   Bill and I still re-live that night in the privacy of our bedroom,
                     but for reasons I don't have room to repeat here, its history
                   wasn't repeated. The rapport and friendship established with these
                  men in a non-sexual way was amazing to me. Occasionally in a social
                   situation, a coded remark is dropped with a wink, their wives and
                   other friends unaware, but not one of these men would dare offend
                       Bill by suggesting to me that we get together on the side.
                     Perhaps now you know why I love our lifestyle...or perhaps you
                   can't imagine why. I'd like to know your feelings. I'll never try
                                to convince anyone to change, I promise.
                   Now, June was about to arrive. That particular month was to become
                                    the most exciting of my life...
                                                  

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