It has been six months since my husband John died unexpectedly. It happened at a birthday celebration for him by a small group of our most intimate friends. I was shocked and devastated. I kept asking myself what was his last thought of me; wondering if my taking Frank for a lover was right and fair to him.

I was feeling sorry for myself and guilty. My friend Ginger took charge of things during my period of grieving. She even stayed at our house regularly, comforting and feeding me.

By some unspoken sense of propriety, Frank and I did not get together for a while, though he did go to the memorial for John and was generally supportive of me from a distance. They were actually, very close friends I know.

John’s affairs were in very good order and things are now pretty well settled. I am the majority owner of our company and Ginger, his protege and sometime lover has taken over as CEO, a position for which he had been grooming her. The transition to new leadership in the company was stressful for Ginger, so I became the homemaker to take care of her creature needs in addition to helping at the office.

We are working well together. John’s sons, who are each successful in their own right, have extended generous terms for her to purchase a twenty-five percent share of the business. My long-time lover, Frank is still in the picture though he does not spend as much time with us as he did when John was alive.

He and John were close friends toward the end, sharing guy activities, whereas he and I mostly just had sex with an occasional game of tennis. Mind you, it is fantastic sex, even after some years, and the tennis is good too. But the sex we had together as a threesome cannot be beaten; I have so many bitter-sweet memories of our times together.

Frank often spent weekends with us, sleeping in our guest room; sex notwithstanding, he liked to sleep alone. Sometimes I would wake early and sneak naked into bed with him. I love snuggling onto his chest and holding his junk as he comes to. I love holding his warm, soft cock before it comes to attention, a privilege that is rare. I would sometimes lick his nipples to wake him.

He has the most beautiful cock and balls of any man I have ever seen, including John’s. It is chocolate brown and when soft, his foreskin is often closed over the head showing just the outline of his glans. It wraps gently over his balls, looking harmless and friendly until it begins to grow into its full attack mode; that’s hyperbole, he uses it gently unless asked otherwise.

Watching and feeling his blood pulse into it always thrills me; even now my pussy begins to ache with lust as I remember. If I close my eyes, I can actually feel his hard body pressing my nipples into his chest and my legs open for him to nudge his cock head between my pussy lips.

I remember the first time I looked up to find John standing in the doorway watching us, his erect cock in his hand. I patted the bed beside me and we scooted over to make room for him. He spooned my back and cupped my breast, his cock poking my ass and his lips kissing my neck. I moved his hand to Frank’s growing cock and lifted my leg to make room for him.

I felt his cock trying to enter my pussy; it slid between my labia a few times, but when I opened my legs further to give him a better shot I felt his head slide between my thighs and his warm breath on my pussy. I bent forward and took Frank’s, rapidly growing, cock in my mouth. I was in heaven; John’s tongue on my cunt and Frank in my mouth. Frank held my head, moving his cock head in and out of my lips and moaning his pleasure.

When John had me almost ready to cum, he released me to roll on top of Frank. Then he guided Frank’s rampant cock to my pussy lips, spreading them with his other fingers. I fell forward to kiss my lover and I felt John’s tongue touch my ass. I went crazy; that big cock head pressed into me while my ass was being laved warmly. Our mouths never lost contact until Frank was buried deep in me and I had my first orgasm of the morning.

Frank rolled us over without disconnecting our sex parts. Once on my back, I looked over at John and reached my hand for his.  He nodded, smiled, and whispered “I love you,” then sat back to watch intently, his cock  in his hand. Having his blessing, I placed my feet on Frank’s calves and tilted my pelvis for maximum penetration.

He raised himself onto his hands so that both John and I could watch his magnificent member moving inexorably in and out of me. John took that opportunity to bend down and kiss my mouth, tell me he loved me again, then settle back on his heels to cheerlead. I briefly looked at the look of lust on his face as he watched us and stroked himself, then my whole body seemed to become an extension of Frank’s cock. I neither saw nor heard anything but our synchronized heartbeats and breaths.

My flowing cunt simply never stopped spasming until I was brought back to reality as Frank announced his approaching orgasm. Then I wrapped my legs around his hips, and my arms around his neck, and held him deep inside me while he pumped his cum into me. At that moment I felt such great love for him that I completely forgot about my husband.

We stayed glued together for several minutes and only reluctantly did I let him move off me. Then John took me in his arms and told me how hot we looked together and how beautiful I was. He kissed my sweaty breasts, then moved between my legs to kiss my cummy cunt.

Finally, he slid his cock into that warm, wet place to reclaim me. I could taste Frank on his lips as we kissed. He quickly buried himself in me and, with a growl, added his load to what was already there. Whenever I have these recollections I am torn; I miss Frank and I miss John and I’m not sure which is stronger. I know that I feel lonely a lot.

Ginger has been a brick these last months, staying here with me more than her condo, and keeping me from becoming depressed when Frank is not around. I have decided to invite her to make it a permanent arrangement; we are developing a big-sister/kid-sister vibe. One evening when Ginger and I were drinking and I was being maudlin, I asked if John ever talked to her about our situation and what he said.

After considerable thought, she told me that for the most part, John enjoyed the threesome activities, even when his only role was to watch. He believed that I loved Frank more deeply than I wanted to admit, but that after playing I almost always took great care to reassure him of my love and let him “reclaim” me.

She also thought that John had a thing for Frank too; that he wanted reciprocal bi contact with him. He liked it when I asked him to share Frank’s cock with me. However, in the early days, when I went to stay with Frank overnight by myself, he obsessed that he would receive a text saying that I would not be coming back to him. He was nearly inconsolable at those times. In his more rational times, he called it his exquisite torment.

Hearing this made me cry. Ginger sat beside me on the sofa and took me in her arms. She brushed my hair back with her hand and whispered “There, there,” in my ear. She pressed her lips to the tears on my cheek. I opened my eyes to see her looking intently at me; then she pressed her lips to mine.

I closed my eyes again, leaned into her soft mouth, and opened my lips to accept her probing tongue. I stretched out along the sofa and Ginger lay beside me. I could feel her perky breasts pressing on mine. An orgasmic frisson passed through me. I wanted it to last, so I pressed my tongue into her lips waiting for them to yield.

I remembered the first time we did this and wondered why we hadn’t repeated it. It was such a pleasant and different feeling; softness rather than firmness; breasts instead of pecs; soft buns rather than glutes. I started to unbutton my blouse but Ginger took over and then pulled her sweatshirt over her head. I thrilled at the touch of our nipples when we kissed again.

She reached up and removed the scrunchy from her ponytail letting a cascade of red hair trail along my chest when she moved down, kissing my nipples, then my belly; then, after opening my shorts, my mons. The light tickling of her hair sent a tremor through me. I lifted my hips so she could pull the shorts off, feeling the cool air on my damp pussy.

Ginger hungrily licked my pussy lips and, to my delight, opened them with her tongue. She grasped my ass cheeks and squeezed gently. I was ready to explode, but she slid up and let me taste my juices on her mouth in a tender kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she whispered. “Is this ok?”

I nodded and lightly pushed her back down. On the way she stopped to suck on my erect nipples a bit, then went back to her ministrations on my clit. This time she didn’t stop until I had cum twice and begged her to stop. We lay quiet for a while recovering, then I moved to return the favor, but she stopped me and said, “Let me have this one. You can get the next one.” Cupping my breast she said, “Your boobs seem more voluptuous than I remember.”

That’s when I told her, “It’s because I am pregnant. I stopped birth control a couple of months ago. I think there’s a little Frank in here,” I patted my tummy. “And I’m hoping you will move in here to share my adventure with me.”