Moments to Remember

[CockSparrow]

A couple of months after my first wife and I got married, we had a visit from one of her cousins, a bubbly woman whose name I can no longer remember.

I only spent about fifteen minutes with the two women and then I had to go to a meeting. When I returned, my wife said that I had made quite an impression on her cousin.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. She said she’d like to fuck you.’

‘And what did you say?’ I asked.

‘I told her only if I could watch.’

I laughed.

‘She’s coming over on Saturday night,’ my wife said.

 

[CockSparrow]

Even before I met my first wife, she worked with a woman named Helga, a woman with whom she apparently got on very well.

The first time that I saw Helga was in a photograph. She was standing, stark naked, with two other women, in front of a waterfall.

‘Helga’s coming to visit,’ my wife told me one morning while we were having breakfast. ‘If I’m not here when you get home this evening, it will be because I’m picking her up from the airport.’

When I got home that evening, the lights were on and there was much laughter that appeared to be coming from the bedroom. I went upstairs and there were my wife and Helga, in our bed, naked, nursing wine glasses.

‘Helly got an earlier flight,’ my wife said. ‘We decided to start without you.’

 

[CockSparrow]

I’m not sure how my first wife knew Toby. I’m not even sure how he acquired the nickname ‘Livewire’. I suspect that he was an old boyfriend. But it was not something to which the first Mrs Sparrow ever admitted.

I first met Tony when he came to town for a conference.

‘Tony has suggested that we meet up for a drink,’ my wife said.

‘Why not?’ I replied.

We met at a little bar near where the conference was being held. Tony was a pleasant and engaging chap and, after a couple of drinks, my wife suggested that we should retire to our apartment for some light supper. I suspected a thinly-veiled plot but I went along with it anyway.

‘I think this might be an opportunity for a threesome,’ my wife whispered after another drink and a snack.

I reminded her that I had only ever taken part in an FMF prior to that evening.

‘You’ll enjoy it,’ she said. ‘You know you enjoy watching me getting fucked. And, once you get into it ….’

She was not wrong.

 

[dz2681]

Your wife sounds amazing, some very memorable times so what happened with the cousin??

 

[CockSparrow]

Your wife sounds amazing, some very memorable times so what happened with the cousin??

The cousin's visit turned into a rather pleasant threeway

 

[CockSparrow]

After I left university, I was fortunate enough to get a job in a research establishment that was packed with men and women with brains the size of the planet.

Some years later, I ran into one of my former colleagues in the street. He had just remarried and he invited my wife and me to supper at his townhouse.

We had a very pleasant meal and some excellent wine, and then his new wife suggested that we go and relax in their hot tub. I told her that my wife and I had not come ‘equipped’ for hot tubbing. Our hostess said that was OK: their hot tub was strictly textile-free. Oh well …

We went out onto their terrace, disrobed, and we were just about to get into the hot tub when our hostess observed that my cock was smaller than she had expected. ‘You have quite a reputation,’ she said. ‘I thought you must have a whopper.’

‘No,’ I told her. ‘What you see is pretty much what you get. Although it does grow a bit when it’s on the job. And I’ve never had any complaints.’

‘Can I try it out?’ she asked.

‘You’ll have to ask my wife,’ I told her.

My wife smiled and nodded her assent.

All in all, it was a rather pleasant evening.

 

[CockSparrow]

Between the ages of about 15 and 19, I played tennis for our local village club. To the surprise of many (me included), I was quite good at it and, in my final year, the year I turned 19, I was elected Club Captain.

One of the ‘perks’ of being Club Captain was that you got to invite one of the club’s retired ‘greats’ to the club’s Christmas party – even if they were no longer an active member. When it was my turn, I had trouble thinking of any of the previous greats who were no longer playing. Then I remembered Elenore.

Elenore had been the Ladies’ Captain the year that I had joined the club. She was about ten years older than me and, by then, was teaching at Cambridge. She was also a big brain and sex-on-a-stick.

She accepted the invitation and we spent quite a bit of the evening together, dancing and generally hanging out. When the party was winding up, I asked her how she was getting back to her hotel. She said that she would take a taxi. (This was way back before Uber et al.) I told her that I would drive her.

When we pulled up near the hotel, I weighed up the possibility of grabbing a goodnight kiss; maybe even a quick fingering. What was the worst that could happen? A quick slap?

I plunged on to discover that, beneath her party dress, she was wearing stay-ups. And that was all.

‘No knickers?’ I said.

‘No. I took them off. I wasn’t sure how long we would have,’ she told me.

‘Right,’ I said. ‘I’d better get on with it then.’