Veritable Sex Fest in Each Day

There has been a running “joke” among my friends that I will pawn off my husband, M, to anyone who wants to sleep with him. He’s always been an attentive lover, and I’ve been talking him up for YEARS.
So it feels really good when I get validation from other women who can attest to his prowess.
And damn do I enjoy watching her enjoy him. And him, her. And him noticing me watching them. ~dies~

This weekend was wild. Ahh! The first night we got her settled in, made a nice dinner, and sat around chatting and catching up. There is deep and genuine friendship between her and I, and by extension, M. We have been intimate, the three of us, for over a decade, though inconsistently because of the lives we lead. There was no pussyfooting around this time, though, and we talked openly about the evenings events.
There is a dimension where I write out all of the details. This is not that one. But I can tell you I feel like I levelled up in some 2SLGBTQ+ player stats, or something.
Thursday night was lovely, but because it was a “school night” - yes, we still call them school nights despite the decades since we’ve been in school - it wasn’t a marathon. But we all got to enjoy each other, the women more fully than M. We melted into an exhausted puddle in the middle of the bed, before M extricated himself so he could sleep more soundly before work. She and I slept through the night together.
The next morning I woke up shortly after M left for work, and by 10am, I had to ask him if he could postpone lunch because she was still asleep upstairs. Hehe. He told me to wake her up, and she was happy I did.
After lunch she and I went to that clay painting place in town and painted ourselves some trinkets. She painted a little trinket, and I painted a small box with a little pastoral scene in her favourite colours. I really hope it turns out as well as I intended. There’s quite some room for error when layering paints, so sometimes there’s happy accidents and sometimes not-so-happy ones.
We brought dinner home to M, watched a movie and then headed to the bedroom. Everyone had their turn, this night.
Saturday we went for breakfast, and then a walk on the beach. We talked about all kinds of things. While she and I talk regularly, M got himself caught up on some details of her life. I met her when she was so young and naive (which she will admit herself) - it was her innocence that really drew me to her, she was so pure and so optimistic. And now she has this incredible life and I feel incredibly fortunate that I get to be a part of it, and that she gets to be part of mine, and M’s.
I am so used to hiding my feelings for my friends that I have found it difficult to get out of the mindset that I am not allowed to kiss and flirt and touch the women who join us, when we’re not in private. Holding her hand felt stolen and scandalous. And sexy.

Saturday night we partook in certain substances, watched half of Atomic Blonde (until the club/bed scene with Delphine), and then were sufficiently aroused for a veritable sex fest until the wee hours.
M and I woke up early Sunday morning, and whispered our thoughts about the night to each other, while waiting for her to wake up. Once she did, we set our plans for the day, (a corn maze and lunch out before meeting her mom for a visit). We three talked a whole lot more on the drive there, it is incredible what physical intimacy can do for emotional intimacy and even vulnerability in relationships. There is no shame and no judgement between us, and the openness of our conversation shows for it.
M and I talked so animatedly on the drive home that it was over before we knew it.
He and I have been relaxing since we got home. “Recovering” is more like it. I’m sore in ways I haven’t felt in a while. The straining and contorting required to insinuate a third person into acts usually reserved for two could very easily be described as acrobatic. The ache is a sweet reminder of the pleasure that came before. All three of us are going to be living on the high of these memories for a while.
I may be sore and exhausted, but if M were game tonight (he’s not, he needs a break, he says), I’d be a happy woman. Happier. I’ll have this stupid smile plastered on my face for some time, I’m sure.
Tomorrow I’m on a morning shift, and therapy before noon. Then I have to get candy for potential trick or treaters tomorrow.
Now to not wish away the next week, until we see her again.