A brief synopsis of the Joyce Series.:
Joyce married John, a forty-year-old widower with two teen-aged sons. She was twenty at that time. After fifteen happily monogamous years together, they met Frank, a handsome black man her own age and with John’s connivance, she had sex with him. It was a mind-blowing experience for her and John both, and a bond formed among the three of them that lasted until John died several years later.
The second time Joyce visited Frank at his home she met Ginger, a college student neighbor, whom he would not fuck due to her young age. Another friendship formed between her and Joyce and also John, who ultimately sponsored her MBA studies and groomed her to replace him at work. After John’s death, the two women became close, but Frank became a less frequent lover. Joyce stopped birth control and became pregnant, presumably by Frank; then she and Ginger became housemates and lovers.
Ginger
I was rather promiscuous as a teenager; I kept fucking boys and young men, hoping for the magic that I read about in fiction. But, while often pleasant, sex with boys my age didn’t make me see stars. By the time I reached college, I was pretty disillusioned and finally tried sex with a woman, with better results.
I bumped into Frank in the laundry of our condo complex. He is this hot black man who lives there also, and I started to crush on him. It turns out he lives in the unit next to me, which has a lovely, private patio. When I asked, he agreed that I could use it, and when I did I took my top off hoping he would come out and see me. I have a very nice body, perky little tits, and a flaming orange bush. He was a no-show.
The third time I went, I discovered some pervs across the commons watching me with binocs. This time I stripped completely, and lay back with my legs crossed to tease them. Sure enough, Frank opened his slider and came to sit next to me. I motioned for him to look at the peepers. He nodded and went over there to speak to them. Upon his return, he said, “They won’t bother you, but I can’t stop them from looking at you.”
“Thank you, but I can handle myself quite well.” As I said this I uncrossed my legs, turned toward him, and placed my hand on his near knee. My knees were separated some and my pussy was slightly ajar.
“Ginger, darling, you are a cute, sexy girl. But to me you are just that: a girl. I won’t get involved with someone your age, ever. But you are free to use my patio whenever you want, and in any state of undress you want. I do get a little hard seeing your pretty naked body.” And so, I went back to my old standby of dating women, with an occasional older man for variety.
Then one day, I found a gorgeous older woman drowsing, topless on Frank’s chaise. She apologized for being topless, to which I responded by removing my coverup to reveal my nakedness and lay down beside her. We introduced ourselves and began to chat.
She was a married woman whom Frank had sex with periodically, here to spend the night with him; her name is Joyce. Her husband, John was also here playing golf with Frank; a very curious arrangement indeed. She was quite interested to hear what my connection to Frank is. Once I reassured her that I was not one of his lovers she warmed up and we soon were swapping life stories.
It happens that our college-age experiences and attitudes mirrored each other, except for the promiscuous part. We both preferred older men. We compared pubic bushes, my orange jungle, and her modestly regrown patch. She calmly opened her thighs when my hand touched her mound and soon I had her sighing and cooing while I licked her pussy. She was reciprocating when her husband and Frank found us.
They invited me to stay for dinner. While it was being prepared Joyce made the rounds, kissing and fondling each of us in turn. An air of sexual tension pervaded the house. She encouraged me to get in touch with her husband and seated John and me together, while she and Frank engaged in lots of groping under the table and kissing above it.
Glancing at John periodically, I sensed he was, not chagrinned exactly, but feeling left out, so when dinner was over I took his hand and led him to my condo unit, where we spent an intimate night of conversation and sex. That was my introduction to a strong and beneficial relationship with John and Joyce. I could see why Joyce fell in love with him years ago.
Now I am in an intimate relationship with his widow as she nurtures a late-in-life pregnancy.
Joyce
My life after John’s death seemed to drift for a while. I am blessed to have Ginger here to keep the business on the right path but more importantly to help me move forward. In my haze, I stopped birth control and in a moment of passion, got knocked up by Frank. He doesn’t know it yet, mostly because he has not come around as frequently as when John was here.
I think the fact that I am now a widow has triggered Frank’s anti-commitment gene. When I was someone else’s wife he felt safe to have frequent contact. When he finds out that I have a little Frank in the oven, he may disappear entirely. While it would make me sad, I think that I am all right with that. We’ll see. I will keep the baby regardless.
Ginger and I have become lovers and I have asked her to move in with me. In practice, she has, though she has kept her studio apartment. Sometimes when work keeps her late, she crashes there and I can imagine that she may have an occasional dalliance there. We are not exclusive and I know she does still like men.
My preoccupation of late has been my maternal health and preparing to be a mother. Thoughts of Frank are never far from the surface; he is, after all, the future father.
One afternoon last week, I was lazily sunbathing by the pool when there came a knock on the back gate; no one comes to my house that way. I put on my cover-up (I sunbathe nude in my backyard) and called, “Come in.” It was Frank’s younger brother Desmond. He bent down and gave me a kiss on the cheek.”What a surprise,” I said, hugging him.
“I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see how you are. It has been too long.” He sat on the edge of my chaise, by my knees.
“Have you heard from Frank lately?” I asked.
“Yeah, he has been traveling a lot. Suggested that I check in on you. How are things going?” He patted my thigh and looked me in the eye. He is almost as handsome as his older brother. Without thinking I moved my leg, causing the robe to open slightly. Like his brother, he didn’t miss an opportunity; his hand felt warm on my skin, and I felt an old familiar flush of arousal.
“Aren’t you fucking Kate these days?” I asked. He had cuckolded Bill, Kate’s husband a while ago, to Bill’s delight.
“The kids are getting older now, so we don’t have many opportunities to play. I’m always horny and you know that I have always had a thing for you. I would love to fill any gaps when Frank can’t be here.” His hand gently stroked my thigh, moving ever so slowly toward my crotch; the gap of the robe grew larger, showing more of me.
I enjoyed teasing him, expecting Ginger to get home any minute and break things up. Just then my phone chirped a text: Ginger would be late and may stay at her place tonight. “Maybe this is a sign from above,” I thought as I put the phone down. Then Des leaned in and kissed me on the lips, his hand moving closer to my pussy. It was a soft, sexy kiss that I returned tentatively. I felt a warm gush of juices flow, followed immediately by his palm pressing on my pubic mound.