"This roast is excellent," Harvey Davenport remarked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Delilah looked across the dining room table at her husband. "It certainly is. Margaret has outdone herself tonight."

"Nothing but the best for our anniversary, darling." Harvey chuckled. "Twenty years, can you believe it? Here's to twenty more," he toasted, raising his glass of red wine.

"Yes, here's to twenty more," Delilah agreed, raising her glass in response. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but this wine is even more excellent than Margaret's roast," she giggled. The bottle of 1915 Romanée-Conti Burgundy had been difficult for Harvey to secure, but it certainly had been worth the effort.

Harvey took another sip and smiled. "Hmm, I don't think I could choose between them. I'll have to say the jury is still deliberating on this one." Although he was a professor of Economics, he had initially pursued a law degree and occasionally peppered his speech with legal cliches. At fifty years old, his hair and beard were graying but he was handsome and energetic.

Delilah was ten years younger than her husband, shorter and thicker. He black hair was styled in a short bob, and her brown eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She tilted her head as a thought occurred to her. "Dear, how is it that France was producing wine during the Great War? I would have thought there were more pressing matters."

Harvey tossed his napkin onto the table and sat back, turning his chair at an oblique angle to the table. "More pressing than pressing grapes? Name me one thing that the French would prioritize over wine," he teased. When Delilah merely raised her eyebrows to indicate that she was waiting for an answer to her question, he continued. "All right, all right. The north of France was being torn up by trench warfare, but the Burgundy region was far enough to the south that it didn't sustain major damage. The wineries had a shortage of labor and horses and materials, of course, but the older men who stayed behind were able to continue producing wine on a smaller scale."

Delilah nodded and folded her napkin. Placing it on the table, she rose and smoothed the skirt of her dress, which was pink with an embroidered floral pattern. Sleeveless and with its hemline resting just above the knee, it was perhaps not appropriate for a public occasion, but it suited the private candlelit dinner perfectly. Delilah began walking slowly towards Harvey's end of the table. "I can think of one thing the French might prize above wine," she purred.

"Well, cheese, I suppose."

Two more steps. "No, I wasn't thinking of cheese."

"Hmm," Harvey pretended to rack his brain. "Bread?"

Two more steps. Delilah, with a bemused smile, shook her head.

Harvey snapped his fingers. "I know! Aggrieved righteousness."

Two more steps.

"Righteous aggrievement?"

Two more steps, and Delilah was at Harvey's chair. He began to rise, but she placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him down. She bent over and whispered in his ear "Let me show you."

In addition to revealing her arms and legs, Delilah's dress had a deep, plunging neckline. Harvey had deliberately maintained eye contact with her as she approached, but now he finally gave in, stealing a glimpse of his wife's mammoth tits. Delilah leaned forward so that Harvey's nose was pressed into the curved space in between. He sighed contentedly and began to kiss the insides of her luscious boobs while Delilah squirmed and shifted, rubbing her boobs all over his face.

After a moment, Delilah moved back and tugged at the waistband of Harvey's trousers. He immediately unbuttoned the fly and his suspenders, hoisted his rear off the seat, and slid his pants and underwear down to his ankles. His cock was growing, in direct correlation to his anticipation. Delilah knelt between his legs and placed her hand on his stiffening prick. Curling her fingers around it, she began to tug on it slowly, savoring the moment until his cock reached its full length and quivered in her warm fist.

"Watching a beautiful woman--une belle dame--stroke your penis?" Harvey asked in a strained tone.

"You're getting warm," Delilah replied. Her pussy was also getting warm, she realized. She would have to get Harvey to take care of that. But first...

Delilah engulfed the head of her husband's cock in her mouth, sucking it and swirling her tongue around the underside. Keeping her fist wrapped around the shaft, she concentrated her oral ministrations solely on the head.

"Watching une belle dame--whooo--su-uck your penis?" Harvey managed to say while trying not to faint. “That’s what ‘frenching’ means, non?”

Delilah looked up and locked eyes with her husband. Releasing his cockhead from her lips, she flashed him a crooked smile. "Oui. You're definitely getting warmer. But something else is getting warmer, too." She rose from her knees and leaned back against the table, pulling up the skirt of her dress and then sliding her underpants down her smooth wide legs.

Harvey reached around her and moved the dishes away, clearing a spot on the table. He then placed a strong hand on each of Delilah's hips and hoisted her so that her plump, round ass was sitting on the table. Pushing her skirt away, Harvey dove between her legs and began licking and sucking her pussy. He ran his tongue up and down along the slit, which was oozing like a honeycomb. Grabbing a handful of her magnificent ass in each hand, he buried his face in her crotch. Delilah thrashed and bucked against his face, grabbing his hair and arching her back.

"Uh huh huh..." she began to moan. Could Harvey even hear her, with her thick thighs plastered against his ears? Could Harvey even breathe? Delilah spread her legs a bit wider just in case. "Uuuh huuuh huuuuh..."

Harvey's tongue-lashing did its job; Delilah's body exploded in a white-hot flash of pleasure and a wave of nectar splashed out of her juicy cunt. Harvey slowed his pace, gently continuing to lick the outer folds of her pussy while Delilah's orgasm subsided.

In a daze, she shook her head to help her eyes focus. Harvey stood up and prepared to slide his aching prick into his wife's drooling pussy.

knock knock knock

"Mr. Davenport?" a woman’s voice called through the closed door.

Harvey and Delilah looked at each other in exasperation. Why was Margaret interrupting their special dinner? She was an excellent cook and maid, but as a live-in servant was occasionally underfoot at inopportune moments.

Hitching up his pants and sliding back into his chair, Harvey called out "Come in, Margaret." Delilah hopped off the table and smoothed her dress. She didn't see her underpants anywhere; had she kicked them under the table?

Margaret opened the door and said "I am extremely sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Campbell has arrived. Shall I send him away?"

Harvey slapped his forehead. "Ugh, today is Wednesday!" Harvey and Delilah had been married on February 10, 1906, which was the closest Saturday to Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, the newlyweds Mr. and Mrs. Davenport could not have predicted that Wednesday, February 10, 1926, would find them in the middle of a hot bout of sex when Harvey's doctoral student arrived for their weekly meeting.

Margaret waited.

Delilah spoke up. "Dear, why don't you go see him for a moment, at least to apologize for having him travel here for nothing."

Harvey sighed. "I suppose you're right. I'll tell him it's my fault; I was so focused on our anniversary dinner that I completely forgot to cancel our meeting this week. Margaret, thank you. Show Mr. Campbell into the lounge, and see whether he would like a cup of coffee, or something stronger."

Margaret nodded and left the room. Delilah leaned into Harvey and said "Kiss me before you go. I want to taste my juices on you. And I want you to taste your cock on me."

Harvey’s eyes shot open wide. "By golly!"

Delilah gave him a playful look and he shrugged and took her in his arms. "All right, Mrs. Davenport. But tell me, is this what the French would choose over wine?"

Delilah pressed her lips against his, parting them and darting her tongue out. She could taste and smell her sweet ambrosia on his mouth. Harvey returned the favor, tasting the salty musk of his cock on his wife's lips. "I have one more surprise for you," Delilah whispered. "Now go and see Lloyd."

Lloyd Campbell was a doctoral student in Economics at Columbia University. He was twenty-five years old, with youthful features, an upswept mop of brown hair, long eyelashes, and not a hint of facial hair. Delilah privately thought that he was more handsome than the movie stars of the day, Rudolph Valentino and Ramon Navarro and Ricardo Cortez and all the rest of the Latin lovers.

Harvey Davenport was his faculty mentor, and they met each Wednesday night at 8:00 to discuss Lloyd's research. Getting away from campus helped Harvey think without distraction, so they met at the Davenports’ well-appointed apartment suite in the Belnord building on West 86th Street. This also allowed them to enjoy a glass of brandy while they talked; with Prohibition still raging across the country, Harvey didn't dare risk keeping a bottle in his office desk drawer. And besides, how would he manage to wash the glasses without raising suspicion? Too many complications. So, the Belnord.

Lloyd sat on a pale green couch, idly stirring a sugar cube into his demi-tasse of coffee. He began to stand as Harvey entered, but Harvey waved him back down again. "Lloyd, I'm so sorry. It's our wedding anniversary tonight, mine and Delilah's, and I forgot to cancel our meeting. I hope the weather isn't too bad out there?" Harvey moved the draperies with one finger to peer out the window.

"Oh, don't worry about me! You should get back to Mrs. Davenport." Lloyd took a final sip of his coffee and placed the cup and saucer on the low table in front of him. "I'll see myself out." 

At that moment the door opened. Harvey, still looking out the window, heard a strangled cry behind him. Alarmed, he spun around and saw Delilah closing the door behind her. Lloyd Campbell's mouth was hanging open as he took in the sight of her short pink dress. He saw it all in an instant: her soft arms, her muscular legs, and her astounding tits. He caught himself and looked at the carpet, his ears turning red. "I really must be going!" he blurted a bit more loudly than he intended.

"Darling, what--" Harvey began, but Delilah held up a hand and cut him off.

"Harvey, you simply cannot send Lloyd out into the cold when he's only just arrived. I understand that you didn't intend to waste his time this evening, but that's precisely what you have done."

"Mrs. Davenport, it-it's no trouble--" Lloyd stammered, his eyes still on the floor.

"Nonsense. Now look at me." She stalked to the middle of the room.

No response. She crossed the remaining distance and stood before him, placing her bare feet and red-painted toenails within his field of vision.

"Lloyd Campbell. Look at me."

Lloyd slowly raised his head, running his eyes up Delilah's bare legs, her wide hips, her enormous boobs, her full red lips, until their eyes met. His cock flopped against his leg and started growing inside his pants.

"Now that's better," Delilah smiled. Noticing the activity in the crotch of Lloyd's pants, she eased behind the coffee table and sat on the couch on his right side. "I know that you like what you see, and I also like what I see." Turning to her husband, she flashed him a dazzling smile. "Dear, I'm going to show you what the French are famous for."

Harvey was at a loss for words, but Delilah could see the front of his pants twitching as well. She nodded her head at a chair across from the couch and he shuffled over and collapsed into it, not taking his eyes off her.

Delilah turned to Lloyd and brushed her lips against his. He jerked his head back with panic in his eyes, turning to make some excuse to her husband about what had just happened. Harvey shrugged and spread his hands wide to say What can you do? Lloyd slowly turned back to Delilah, who leaned in again.

This time, Lloyd didn't hesitate. He kissed her once gently on the lips, then once more, longer. Delilah put her left hand behind his neck and pulled herself closer, so that her left breast was pressed against his chest. She could feel his heart hammering. He placed his left hand on Delilah's right hand, which was resting on her thigh. As they continued kissing, her hand gradually slipped out from under his so that his hand rested on her thigh.

After a few minutes of that, Delilah took Lloyd's hand and guided it to her chest. He rubbed and caressed her bountiful boobs, and her nipples stiffened and stood at attention under her dress. Delilah threw her head back and groaned with pleasure.

Harvey was rubbing his cock through his pants, watching his wife seduce the young man who had been in their home so many times without incident. How long had she wanted this? Harvey wondered. And why hadn't she acted on it earlier? And did her mouth still taste like his cock, or did it taste more like her own pussy?

Harvey was shaken from his reverie as he saw Delilah stand up and address both of them. "Now boys, I have a surprise for you. Harvey, you probably thought the answer to the French question was taking a younger lover, but that's not precisely correct. The answer to the question is... ménage à trois."

Harvey felt a twinge in his stomach. A good twinge or a bad twinge? "Whatever you say, darling." A good twinge, he decided.

Delilah took charge. "Lloyd, get those pants off and scoot over on the couch. Harvey, get up and stand over here." The men did as instructed and Delilah knelt on the couch on all fours, facing Lloyd where he was sitting. "Are you ready for this?" she asked him.

Lloyd barked a sharp laugh, then nodded. Delilah gave him an impish smile and without another word slid her mouth onto his juddering cock.

"Hsssss--" Lloyd hissed as his head sank back into the plush couch. The warm, wet feeling of Mrs. Davenport's lips around his hard dick was utter heaven. She slid his cock further into her mouth and began slowly bobbing her head up and down on his pulsating shaft. Once she had developed a rhythm, she waggled her ass in the air to signal Harvey, who did not disappoint. He lifted her dress and laid the skirt on her back, exposing her succulent ass to the room.

Delilah felt the head of her husband's stiff prick being rubbed vertically along the folds of her pussy lips and the crack of her wide bottom. Her juices were flowing, and she was ready to be fucked. After only a few seconds of rubbing the head at the entrance, Harvey plunged his cock deep into his wife's dripping cunt. She cried out, or would have if she didn't have a thick cock stuffed in her mouth. Instead, she gave a muffled grunt and maintained the pistoning motion of her head on Lloyd's erection.

Lloyd reached down and slid his hands inside Delilah's dress, grabbing her dangling boobs and pinching her nipples. Delilah responded by pulling her lips back to just below the head of his cock and swirling her tongue all around the head and the piss hole. "Hsssss--" Lloyd hissed to show his appreciation, and then Delilah swooped down once more to take his entire shaft in her mouth. Meanwhile, Harvey had been pounding his cock into Delilah's wet pussy, with his hairy balls slapping against her clit.

"Mrs. Davenport--" Lloyd began in a shaky voice. Delilah released his cock with a popping sound and asked breathlessly "Are you close?"

"Yes, I-I won't last much longer."

Delilah decided to finish with a flourish. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to suck the cum right out of your cock," she said in a husky voice.

Both men's eyes boggled at that. Harvey redoubled his efforts, grabbing his wife's snow-white ass and slamming his cock into her again and again. Before Delilah could turn her attention back to Lloyd's engorged prick, Harvey let out a yell and shot spurt after thick spurt of steaming hot cum deep into her cunt. How many, ten? eleven? twelve? Nobody had their wits about them to keep count.

As Harvey pulled out, Delilah quickly turned and sat on the couch.

"Lloyd, one more thing. I want you to eat Harvey's cum out of my pussy before I finish you off."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Now get down there before it starts leaking out and ruins the couch!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, but with a raging hard-on that was nearly at the breaking point, Lloyd knelt in front of the couch as Delilah slid forward and spread her legs apart. Harvey stood nearby, slowly stroking his deflating penis as he watched the young man lap at his wife's pussy and lick up the sticky cum that oozed out of her slit.

"Good boy. Now if you stand up, I'll finish sucking your lovely cock. Would you like to shoot your cum down my throat or onto my gigantic tits? Player's choice," she giggled.

"Oh, on your tits, please. Most definitely on your tits," Lloyd panted.

"All right, on the tits it is. Now as soon as you start to cum, pull your cock out of my mouth and shoot it all over my tits. You got that?"

Lloyd decided that further words were unnecessary. He grasped his cock and aimed it at Delilah's face, and she lurched forward and engulfed it once more. He placed his hands gently on the sides of her head and stood still as she rocked back and forth, fucking him with her luscious mouth.

After about a minute of that, Lloyd yanked his hips back and with a yell began furiously beating his spit-slicked dick. He shot a thin stream of jism on Delilah's right shoulder, which trailed diagonally to the center of her chest and ended with a glob on the left side of her dress just below her left tit. He then shot a much thicker stream on her left shoulder, which splattered and ran straight down her left tit. Concerned that her right side wasn't getting enough action, Delilah turned so that Lloyd's third stream, also thick, blasted her dress on the right tit. A thin fourth stream followed the third, and then he shot a fifth and final stream of cum directly in the center of her dress, which trailed down onto her lap.

Delilah sat still for a moment and allowed the men to admire the view. As Lloyd staggered backwards and fell into a chair, Delilah crooked a finger and beckoned to her husband. Harvey, who had started buttoning his pants, looked at her in confusion.

"Now Harvey, fair is fair. Lloyd cleaned up my pussy. Get over here and clean up my filthy tits."

Harvey stepped closer and started to remove his handkerchief from his pocket. Delilah rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the back of his head, pressing his face into her cum-covered chest. "Let me rephrase. Lloyd licked your cum out of my pussy. Now you lick his cum off my tits!"

Harvey, resigned to his fate, gave a tentative lick to the thin line of cum on his wife's right tit. He was surprised to find that it tasted both salty and sweet. He moaned with pleasure and began to lick the thick swathes of rapidly-cooling cum from his wife's magnificent mammaries.

"There's still a lot of it on my dress," Delilah pointed out.

Harvey yanked down the top of her dress to expose her massive tits, folded the fabric up, and wiped the remaining cum blasts from her dress onto her chest. Delilah stared at him. "I don't want to lick the cum off your beautiful dress," he explained softly. "I want to lick the cum off your beautiful tits."

"Well, I suppose that's all right." Delilah laughed and looked down at her slippery tits. Harvey took them in his hands and licked and sucked every bit of her expansive chest until it glistened with his shiny spit instead of Lloyd's creamy sperm.

Lloyd cleared his throat. "So, uh, next Wednesday, then?"

Harvey laughed and said "Yes, Lloyd. We'll meet next Wednesday as usual."

Delilah chimed in. "I may not be able to join you boys every time, but I'm sure that we can work something out occasionally." She knew that the phrase ménage à trois didn’t mean a casual sexual encounter but implied a more permanent relationship. Perhaps the men knew that, and perhaps they didn’t. Delilah looked into her husband's eyes. "Happy anniversary, dear."

Harvey looked at his wife and shook his head in amazement. "And happy anniversary to you, darling."

Delilah gave Lloyd a kiss on his sticky lips. “Good night, Mrs. Davenport,” he grinned.

As Harvey saw Lloyd to the door, Delilah sat back on the pale green couch and idly rubbed her breasts as they dried. She was pleased that their anniversary dinner had turned out so well, and she now had the courage to confess to Harvey that she had been sucking other men’s cocks for some time. Maybe not tonight, she thought, but certainly sometime soon.

Harvey returned, his tongue idly licking a blob of cum out of his mustache, and watched as Delilah slung her heavy boobs back into her dress. "Well, I'm bushed, darling. Are you ready for bed? I'm ready for bed."

Delilah rose from the couch and took his hand. "Yes dear, let's go to bed." She walked past him and began leading him to the door. "You can fuck me again and we can get started on the next twenty years."