...As with so many things, this part of our extended adventure also started out small. During the same year of our first infamous camping trip, the guys, along with another friend of theirs Sam, all decided to get motorcycles together. These were very small 175-250cc starter road bikes, theoretically with room for two people who really liked each other and didn't mind grinding together on their small seats, but practically only really good for one to ride on. Where we grew up it was possible to get a larger bike first license-wise, but the smart way to do it was to buy a used, small, low horsepower bike to cheaply get into, or "onto" bikes. The insurance was cheaper, they burned less gas, the tires were cheaper, and most importantly they looked less scary and fast to the parents of teenagers...
...My future hubby and I were sharing his car back then too, and when the weather was nice his little bike was a great second vehicle for him to go to his job on when I "needed," or to be honest "wanted" his car. On not so nice days when I wanted the car I would sometimes take him in myself, and then pick him up afterwards, and these kinds of work trips were usually fun, and along with sharing his single car gave me - at least - the feeling of already being married. One time specifically though this borrowing of his car didn't turn out so well, but more on that later...
But, back to the bikes. The guys all eventually passed their rider's road tests and got their full motorcycle licenses sometime before the fall in an amusing rite of passage roughly akin to graduating high school, or so it appeared to me at the time. They were only allowed to ride their small bikes during daylight hours on their learner's permit to get "seat time" experience, but also without a passenger on the back as a condition of the permit. I snuck on the back with my permitted boyfriend a few times anyway, and we quickly discovered that his bike was very small, and not up to the task of taking us safely anywhere, other than very close by.
At the same time there's just something about wrapping your arms around your guy, with your bodies pressed tightly together on something like that though that's hard to put to words, other than to say it's very close and sexy. You move together almost like close dancing, following your partner's lead through the turns, with your face inches from his ear. Such also drives home your utter dependence on him for your very safety, placing your trust on the guy in front of you not to screw up and make a mistake that could injure both of you like no normal car accident could.
With that being said, I had also ridden on the back for short hops with both Sam and Ken during this small bike time period, I being their temporary "queen" for just a few miles, so they could have the experience of riding with a passenger on the back too. In each case the guys formally asked my future hubby if they could borrow me, and in each case my guy said yes, but the paradigm had already been set on lending me out to another guy for a worthy cause. My future husband confessed to me afterwards that watching me climb onto, and then ride away on the back with my arms wrapped around either guy was almost like watching Ken and I make out that first time. It was the same kind of exciting feeling for him - he had explained - although I assumed not as intense, obviously.
...On the subject of Ken and I, my boyfriend mostly avoided it for a time, the subject magically taboo, or so it seemed. This wasn't to say that I thought he didn't like what had happened on some level, he had after all engineered most of the entire episode, so one would think he well should have. It's just that talking about it with me seemed difficult, lots of emotion, and to be honest a good part of that may well have been coming from me. It seems crazy from a "today" point of view NOT to have talked these feelings out, but for a host of hard to explain reasons we simply didn't. The phrase "let sleeping dogs lie" comes to mind.
Still, when my future husband described how he felt when one of the guys "took me away" for a short motorcycle ride while he watched, the "excitement" he tried to put to words wasn't unpleasant for him at all, quite the opposite. His face and eyes as well confirmed this was no hardship, but I was uncertain if this message was being faithfully transmitted to either, or both of the other guys.
...I know now that this feeling is sometimes called "cuckold angst," but that's from reading the many such articles available today on the subject, some even allegedly written by psychologists. Back then, before the internet was available to kids like us, and back before people talked about such things openly, we had to work these feelings out on our own, adding to that was the fact that we were all still teenagers, with raging hormones and tons of sexual curiosity, like any other. We certainly had motive - horney teens that we were - and opportunity would soon be knocking once again...
All three small bikes were impractical for two-up riding, but of the three Sam's was the largest, and I rode on the back with him as his borrowed queen more than once as both Ken and my guy followed on their own small bikes. I knew that this excited my boyfriend, both because he had told me so, and by the look in his eyes, even though I had zero interest in Sam other than as a friend. He was a good guy and all that, but I just didn't click with him like I had with Ken, the only other guy I had ever made love to at that point in my life.
That isn't to say that such rides didn't get my own erotic fantasies churning anyway, I daydreaming once that I had been abducted by some very bad stereotypical biker type guys, Harleys and lots of leather, and all of that nonsense. I knew that this was a Hollywood created image, at best, because when we passed guys on other bikes that looked exactly like that, they always waved and smiled in the friendliest of ways toward our little group.
Fantasies are just that though, and in one daydream fantasy a group of biker guys all rolled into the gas station we were filling up at. Without a word being spoken, they would pick me up bodily and place me on the back of one of their big bikes, and then roar off down the road with me helplessly trapped on the back... all as I let them, passively. The three guys I had been with had been surrounded by the other biker guys and distracted, and by the time they realized what had happened my abductors were long gone on their much faster bikes, direction unknown...
I knew it was illogical for several reasons, but it was a fantasy, and just as plausible as the ‘farmer boys from Cresmount’ fantasy.
...The biker guys from my erotic daydreams always had a clubhouse with a long bar inside, and such was our eventual destination, they passing me around from man to man once inside, after stripping me naked and binding my arms behind my back with one of their belts. It was my fantasy, and I realize now that I craved the "release" the being bound part provided me, not responsible for the fantasy things I was compelled to do with those rough men in that clubhouse as a result. Had this not been a fantasy, six to ten large men would have little need for any kind of bindings, as they could quite easily make me do anything they liked, but fantasies don't need to be logical to get the job done, and in the privacy of my bath, or bed back home, this one usually did.
...Sufficient to say that even back then, Harley guys and their black leather jackets did something for me...
Sam eventually had permission to ride his brother's dusty and unused 600cc bike once he had earned his license, this being a good natural progression to a larger and more powerful bike that could actually carry a passenger. My future hubby, with a small budget of his own because he was saving for a ring, opted for a new leftover 650cc bike that was very cheap, although plagued with mechanical problems almost from day one, even though it was technically new when he had bought it. This bike was so terrible that hubby had kept his small starter bike so he would have something dependable to ride to work when his big bike was broken, the other two guys in contrast selling their own starter bikes almost the second they didn't need them any longer. Hubby knew in practical terms that even this small machine could still provide cheap work transportation with great fuel mileage, which we needed while sharing a car and saving money, although it certainly wasn't technically "cool" to be caught riding it once in possession of a proper motorcycle license.
Ken, being the largest physically of the three, and also having the most disposable income, decided to skip the middle sized bike step completely and buy the Harley Davidson Sportster of his dreams directly. That meant that he was jumping up from a 200cc bike to a 1,000 cc bike in one jump, but both guys had let him ride their bigger "new" bikes, and he was confident he could handle the jump. Sam had cryptically joked at the time that letting someone borrow and ride your bike was like letting someone borrow and "ride" your girlfriend, to which we all laughed, although I felt myself blushing almost crimson while doing so... I had been both guy's "borrowed" queen more than once, but in that context Ken and I had actually taken that "ride" together, twice, over the course of two very exciting days while camping. I didn't think Sam was privy to such knowledge though.
Had Sam picked up on something he had observed between my boyfriend, Ken, and myself, something notably different since that camping trip... the same one that Sam hadn't been invited on? To this day I don't know the answer, but it seemed unlikely that the guys would confide in Sam about something like this. Still, the possibility made me wonder about the security of this kinky little secret we three shared, and if we were somehow advertising to others close to us that things were different between us now.
...This brings us to the actual subject of the story, but how all we got to where we did I thought made sense to explain...
Ken had saved up his money for a Harley Davidson Sportster, but not just any Sportster, and not even necessarily a new one. Harley's were expensive back then - they likely are today too - but back then one could buy two new leftover bikes like my boyfriend had bought, and have some money left over, for what one used Sportster cost. And, the Sportster was the cheapest model bike that Harley made back then to boot.
Ken's uncle; the one with the cabin that we considered Ken's, and the big wooden cabin cruiser that we had all been out on several times while growing up, had one such bike though. He and Ken's aunt apparently didn't ride it all that much these days, but they at one time had, and Ken had seen that "lonely" bike sitting under its dusty cover hardly used in their garage on his many visits to their home.
That machine, for Ken, was more than just a bike though, it was a Harley, he even said that name with affection, as if the bike were human, a friend even, and Harley was it's first name. It was as if those other bikes had been mere children's toys, and the Harley a serious "man's" bike. I hadn't specifically told Ken about my irrational "thing" for Harley guys and their leather jackets, but I can't say for sure that he hadn't seen something in my eyes - that he seemed to pay incredibly close attention to these days - or perhaps even the way my head turned to follow the distinctively noisy bikes when they rode past.
...We three drove upstate to Ken's aunt and uncle's place in the fall, the trees turning colors, and the views simply stunning. We were all in Ken's pickup truck again, only this time the cap wasn't on the back, although our overnight bags were, along with Ken's helmet and jacket. We were going there to ostensibly look at Ken's uncle's bike, Ken talking him into considering selling it to him, but for a fair price. He wasn't giving it to his favorite nephew like he had his old pick up truck, he had been clear on that, and clear on the reasoning as well, but more on that later too.
The trip upstate was long, like four hours plus in Ken's truck, and one stop for bathroom breaks and gasoline too. I again sat in the middle, the once again girlfriend-less Ken upbeat and talkative though, because he was almost certain to leave with the bike of his dreams. He had a girl that he was seeing for a time there, on and off, a quasi friend of mine nic-named Bet, short for Bethany. I had a feeling the two hadn't gotten anywhere close to intimate, yet, as Ken seemed to be taking these things just a little slower these days. Who could blame him though, after the whole Cathy disaster? The subject was an awkward one for me for obvious reasons, and while he and I had been intimate, this just wasn't a subject that I could easily broach.
These were strange unsettled feelings for me to be sure, because not talking about it, the actual "not knowing" part of that, caused me some angst of my own; but the fear of airing out the entire episode to an unwanted consensus conclusion, as in "this was a mistake that we shouldn't ever repeat" was far greater.
I was therefore most certainly torn, because for my own selfish reasons a part of me wanted a repeat with Ken to see if that camping trip magic was repeatable, but not at the cost of ruining a potential serious relationship with a new girlfriend of his own, most certainly somebody I knew. I had to remind myself that the ultimate goal was to have Ken in a relationship with "another" girl, although even this was contrary to what a part of me selfishly wanted for myself.
...I don't know exactly when the concept of having and keeping both boys occurred to me, it didn't exactly happen suddenly, but gradually and over time. It wasn't "normal" in any sense of the word, but nothing we had done was "normal" so the precedent for this was already set. One could logically argue, even today, that if the problem is "out of the box" the solution could be as well. We also collectively knew that such would be hard to explain to family and friends, and that it was best to keep our strange relationship secret just as long as we could...
My boyfriend would have to be on board for anything further too, as I most certainly didn't want to screw up what I had going with him either, and I just couldn't imagine doing something behind his back. That to me would be a serious violation of his trust, a thought that would haunt me in the very near future...
And, while I suspected that my boyfriend had enjoyed almost everything we had collectively done on that camping trip based on the little clues that crept into our many conversations, he wasn't, as of yet, making any plans for a repeat either. I had been taking pretty good care of him though, sex wise, but he still was wearing condoms while I did so, much to his annoyance. Was my new found appetite for sex due to guilt on my part over the way Ken and I had abused him, or because Ken had activated something dormant within me regarding sex, and the overall playful enjoyment of it for me?
I don't know the answer, but I do know that my boyfriend felt pretty good to me back then, rushed backseat sex, condom, and all. Ken hadn't necessarily ruined me in the least for my boyfriend's more average self either - despite my fears to the contrary - although I could obviously tell the difference between both guys for a host of reasons, not to mention that his actual entry was far easier now. One was a comfortable "go-to" with no surprises at all, and the other like an exciting amusement park ride, complete with screams and adrenaline to spare. That one was a treat, for one doesn't go to the amusement park every day; except if perhaps you happen to live next to one, or worked there.
During that same time period I had been on and off self entertaining with Ken's gifted toy, my future hubby even participating at times, orally entertaining my well hung inanimate lover and myself, both before, and after. This was different to be sure - and only something he was "up" for once I cut him off for a while beforehand, for motivational purposes - but it also had the effect of satisfying the bet I had agreed to with Ken. I also couldn't help but notice my guy's rapt attention when slowly working the large toy in and out of me, the way my nether regions stretched and clutched at it, his fingers and talented tongue simultaneously driving me over the top in orgasm after orgasm. In contrast, I rarely got to orgasm from normal sex with my boyfriend at all, although it did feel quite good to me back then.
Ken, in stark contrast to my boyfriend, once again wasn't "gettin’ any," and likely hadn't since our camping trip, other than possibly by his own hand. I could feel his underlying tension while sitting next to him, his body feeling like a stone statue when I inadvertently bumped up against it - although he was upbeat and happy on the outside - suggesting to me that Ken didn't like to self entertain, even for stress relief. Ken had both layers to his personality, and a high sex drive, dating a pretty girl like Bet and not being intimate with her likely maddening to him. I felt for him, empathy wise, I just didn't know what to do for him, other than the obvious, but I just wasn't asking for this either, I couldn't...
The subject of most of our conversations on that particular ride upstate was motorcycles, but that was to be expected. Ken eventually told us all about the whole "Milwaukee vibrator" thing, weaving it into the motorcycle conversation seamlessly as my boyfriend nodded his head in affirmation, all while I looked on skeptically. At the time I thought this was just Ken being Ken, with my boyfriend playing along to both boost his friend, and twist me up with sexual innuendo too. Ken was just a little short on the specific details; I thought at best embellished the Harley's sexual attributes to make the bike somehow seem more desirable, and therefore worthy of it's high price tag. I had ridden both on my boyfriend's larger bike, and Sam's, and neither one's slight engine vibrations did anything for me, other than what riding close to a guy while holding his waist tightly might be expected to do. The Sportster, in comparison, was built up by the guys to be like a rolling sixty horsepower vibrator, but I just didn't believe the hype.
"Milwaukee vibrator" to me sounded just as real as "Spanish fly," something we girls were warned about back then, but in a less than serious way as none of us knew anybody first hand who had been given any, let alone overcome with insatiable lust afterwards. There were rumors of such things, but drinking was a far better way to lower one's inhibitions, and in fact legal for us now that we were eighteen ourselves. Not that we hadn't drank before that, alcohol was easy to come by growing up when we did, it just wasn't that big a deal, although I did let my designated driver boyfriend get lucky in the back seat once on the way home from one such party. That had been fun, although I had let it slip that night that I thought Ken was sexy, or hot, or some such thing, as I didn't remember the exact words I had used back then. The subject seemed to have come up in conversation quite naturally, and I thought no more to it than that at the time...
Ken's aunt and uncle were almost like family to both my boyfriend and myself, in addition to being actual family to Ken, they being a childless couple and always treating us well. As we got older - and my body got a little more womanly looking - I noticed that they had a subtle way of pairing Ken and myself together though, nothing overt, more like they had intentionally forgotten which boy I was sweet on. Setting our dinner plates next to each other with "our" chosen beverages in front, and my boyfriend's across the table, comes to mind. Or, taking seats in the living room in such a way as to force Ken and I to sit together on the "love seat," things like that. Subtle things, but clearly suggesting Ken and I were the couple - or should be - this made easy by the fact that my boyfriend and I just didn't hang all over each other, most especially in front of others.
My future husband obviously noticed this, it however didn't seem to upset him; I realize now that it more than likely turned him on in some measure. It may at the same time have gotten his proverbial wheels turning on the subject of Ken and I being a thing though, adult confirmation that something is right is a powerful thing under certain circumstances, especially for a teen with a lot of conflicting thoughts and self doubt. As a result, my boyfriend and I just went along with it, we never once corrected either of Ken's relatives on our past visits, to do so while guests in their home seemed unfathomable to me, and I'm sure to my boyfriend as well. It was obviously on his mind though, we had even joked about it in private - he and I - but when he spoke to Ken that day he still surprised me, "breaking the ice" as it were.
"Do you think they'll be pushing you two together this time too?" my boyfriend asked Ken, his tone almost hopeful, this conversation as well going across me as I was sitting between them in the cab. Our other subjects of discussion on the long drive had been exhausted, and we were getting close to our destination, this sounding to me like something my boyfriend wanted worked out before we actually got there. Ken knew exactly what he was talking about instantly, suggesting the guys had spoken about this before themselves, or perhaps that it was front and center on Ken's mind as well, post camping trip.
...I caught myself looking at a lot of things from this perspective back then too; before Ken and I had hooked up, and after. Sam certainly seemed different, as did Ken obviously, and I certainly FELT different myself, about a bunch of things. Ironically, my boyfriend - who arguably had given up the most to get Ken and I intimately together - seemed the least affected, but possibly only because this adventure of ours had more closely fit with his real world kinky plans, although those had most certainly been for the threesome instead...
"Do you want me to talk to them?" Ken asked, I rather touched that his concerns for his friend's feelings extended this far, he willing to challenge his relatives over something so minor in the big scheme of things. This was Ken's uncle, the one who had gifted Ken the truck we were presently driving in, and the same one who owned the cabin that we considered Ken's, he used it so often. This was also the same man that Ken had to negotiate with to get the Harley he wanted, so the timing on this couldn't have been worse, at least for Ken's purposes.
"No, quite the opposite," my future husband said. "Ever since our... ahhh, camping trip, the idea turns me on. Well... to be perfectly honest, even before that" my boyfriend admitted. "Well anyway, what if we just let them go with it, or even encouraged them, how far do you think they'd really go?" he asked with a hopeful smile.
"I think they're worried about me because I can't keep a girlfriend of my own long enough to bring one around and visit with them" Ken confessed with some obvious shame. "I'm certain they think Deb's about perfect for me, and they already know and like her, so I think pairing us together only seems natural from their point of view," Ken told his best friend while I listened.
"Except for my presence" my boyfriend logically observed, his mind clearly going in a certain direction.
"Yeah, something like that... Sorry buddy," Ken added, as if an afterthought.
"Don't be. You could have left me home you know. Deb would have been happy to take this trip alone with you... I'm sure" my boyfriend offered magnanimously; before making eye contact with me though, and conspicuously while not consulting me beforehand on "his" offer of my company either.
"...And Deb IS perfect," my boyfriend added with a broad smile, although while not saying specifically perfect for whom.
We all laughed to break the tension, but my future husband had found a benign way to air his thoughts on Ken "borrowing" me once again, and without his presence this time, although not specifically for sex though, kinky or otherwise. I also noticed that Ken hadn't specifically answered his question about how far his aunt and uncle might go in thrusting the two of us together this time, and this got me wondering if they too would see something different in the relationship we three now shared, post camping trip.
"Something like that would have all the parents talking the moment we left, you know that" Ken told his best friend practically, but I could tell the offer touched him, and that Ken had also thought seriously about it for a second or two. It was honestly sincere, and the reason I loved my boyfriend so much. Here he was in effect saying to his best friend; "I have something you apparently need, and while it's obviously quite special to me, why don't you borrow it, and give it back when you're done?"
This at the same time objectified me, as if I were a "thing" to be both borrowed and lent, but the love behind the offer was impossible to casually discount, especially looking back on that conversation from the comfort of time passed. If I were a "thing" though, I was at least a valuable thing in high demand, the concept also inflating my ego, as did having two guys interested in me at the same time. I was dressing just a little more nicely now for both guys too, but still this side of respectable, as if I lived at home yet with an impressionable little sister, which I did.
"If Deb and I showed up alone they might actually give us the spare bedroom, instead of giving it to her and having me sleeping all alone in the bunk bed room," Ken offered hypothetically.
I didn't think so myself, but it was hard to know for sure. They were still adults, and having a teenage nephew and his girlfriend sleeping together in the same bed and under their roof was quite taboo back in the day. The boys always slept in the bunk bed room when we visited, and when Sam came along he bunked in there too, as there were two double bunk beds crammed into that tiny room. I always got the spacious "guest room," with its magnificent queen sized bed and half a dozen pillows to choose from, that room also for their adult overnight guests I'm sure, when they had them. This suited me fine, as the bunk bed room had this perpetual "sweaty boy" smell to it; I remember that smell clearly to this day.
With Ken's aunt and uncle it was always hard to tell though, but these specific adults in our life weren't parent's themselves, nor teachers, and as a result had a different "filter" on their words and actions. It was funny when we were younger, and just odd enough to get my attention, as other adults didn't even curse in front of us "kids" back then. I remember one time catching Ken's sweet aunt mouthing silently for her husband to "go fuck off" while flipping him off with her middle finger when she had thought I was out of sight, all the while smiling sweetly at him. And another time when Ken's uncle had been helping with dinner, he peeling potatoes and purposely flipping some of the cold peels right down her low cut shirt with an expert flip of his knife, she forced not to react and squeal as the boys were close by, I coming down the stairs at an opportune moment and only seeing the act accidentally in a mirror's reflection.
All in all these were two people who loved each other, that was easy to tell, but it felt like this affection had to be curtailed when we "kids" were present and watching, as if this tamped down version of them that we thought we knew so well was an act. I was curious how this act would be played out now that we were technically all adults, but bearing in mind that Ken was still related to them. I hadn't seen them since Ken had told me about his found "toy bag" on their boat either, but the fact that this could possibly be theirs put a new light on everything I had ever witnessed. Could these two be that kind of playful? I asked myself, thinking erroneously at the time - with my rather inexperienced teenage brain - that such kink MUST be a thing exclusively for the young and energetic...
"Do you want to bet on how hard they push you two together this time?" my boyfriend offered with a smile. He liked to bet, and apparently even liked to lose, something I was still learning about him back then. Betting, and then losing, meant that what he "lost" wasn't his fault though, just fulfilling the terms of the wager out of obligation. I came to the realization - although I'm not entirely sure when - that his lost bets and their consequences were almost exactly like my being bound up and helpless, neither of us responsible for what happened afterwards.
"I don't even know that you've paid off the last lost bet yet," Ken observed flippantly, the fact that there was a wager-debt at all was not supposed to be a known thing for my future husband though. For him to find out that his less than masculine "practice" with my new Ken sized toy was a lost bet condition of Ken's for actually wearing my borrowed panties might not go over so well, but anything was possible with these two. At the same time it almost seemed a shame for my boyfriend to hide such an obvious talent anyway, but doing "that" in the flesh would be a huge step though, not to mention with whom. I didn't know how I would actually feel about watching something like that either, but I knew that once I saw something like that with a real flesh and blood man, I wouldn't be able to unsee it either.
"We're good," I answered for my boyfriend cryptically. I didn't want to go into the specific details at the moment for obvious reasons, but sufficient to say that I had discovered - much to my shock - that my boyfriend had no gag reflex at all, ZERO. How exactly I got him to do that is almost a story all by itself, but it involved the fabrication of endless excuses as to why we couldn't have actual back seat sex, all while I selfishly self entertained with Ken's gifted toy. Sufficient to say that we both had some paradigms to break to make such things happen, and not lost on me either was that my boyfriend found himself practicing his sexually frustrated deep throat skills on my Ken gifted toy, long before ever being on the receiving end himself a single time.
My boyfriend knew that something profound just went by him, something of a secret between Ken and I obviously, not to mention it involving him, but to his credit he didn't ask about it either. He was submissively accepting - apparently - of the fact that Ken and I now had secrets, and this little exchange profoundly paved the way, in my teenage mind at least, for more of them.
...I didn't necessarily like keeping secrets from my future husband, but I was conflicted and selfishly thinking in terms of what I wanted, my teenage moral compass going slightly off course for quite some time there. It was all too easy, one little secret, building on another... and so on. I soothed my conscience though by asking myself how it could possibly benefit my future husband to know the details of what Ken and I had done, specifically, while he was absent from Ken's tent either time. My attitude at the time was that he obviously knew we had done something, the specific details mine to either share, or not. It was however my body, and by my teenage way of thinking, mine to do with as I pleased up to and until I said "I do."
"So, what should we wager?" Ken asked, he I think knowing he had let something slip out that he shouldn't have, and wishing to put that behind us as quickly as possible, while at the same time saving his best friend some humiliation over the specific details.
"If we'd only brought the camping gear you could have dropped me off alone at a campground, or even in the woods someplace for the weekend, and then went on together to check out your new bike" my boyfriend proposed. This "dumping him off," in concept, was quite similar to what we had done to him on the second day of our first alone camping trip. This quasi offer of his therefore suggested that such things excited him too, although exactly why was still a mystery to me. We apparently shared that fantasy element, my boyfriend and I, but in his case he had actually lived it. I was envious of that part to be honest, but the reason for dumping him off had been to get him safely distracted, so Ken and I could do the deed in private that second time, and that had not only been magnificent for me, but I hoped very good for Ken for a host of reasons as well!
"And then what?" I asked, jumping into the conversation, but trying to hide my excitement while doing so. "Ken and I just show up together, like a couple, and then stay the weekend, picking you up on our way back through with the bike?" Here was the window of opportunity that I had been hoping for, the ultimate gift from my boyfriend, for the both of us. Ken was apparently single again, so this worked from that angle too, and perhaps this is what he had been waiting for himself, and why neither guy had asked for a repeat yet.
...I see now that I was dreadfully selfish back then; I wanted BOTH guys, but not at the same time, and not for the same reasons either. In my defense though, nobody was telling me that I couldn't, in fact, my boyfriend was even plotting and scheming so that I could, making it even EASIER for me to cheat on him. In my defense though, Ken was fun, like crazy fun, and a good and energetic lover too, and I was still unmarried. He even liked to play rough with me, although I was still learning for myself how rough I really liked things. I had rough, against my will kinds of fantasies, but that's not necessarily the same as a rough reality. I had also only ever had tender and sweet love making before Ken, and because of that the contrast between the two was dramatic, Ken coming much closer to the fantasy desires that I wanted to fully explore, before I became permanently committed with a ring to the other more predictable young man...
"That's up to you two, but the idea of you guys marooning me someplace like that with no way home is soooo... fricken... hot! And, your aunt and uncle would even likely leave you guys alone for a while on the whole girlfriend thing afterwards... In fact, you two could even 'make' me earn my ride back home, I would be about one hundred percent at your mercy you know." I noticed that my boyfriend was talking to both Ken and I as if we WERE a couple already, pairing us together in his mind, and I doubted he even realized this.
...I also noticed that in this post camping trip period that I was fully a third of this trio now, where before that I got a less than equal share of Ken's verbal attention...
"I hate being a jerk like that, you know that. Besides, we don't have the camping gear with us, so the point is moot."
"Maybe next time then?" my boyfriend asked hopefully. He wanted this "next time" to happen, his tone all but begged for it.
"As far as the being a jerk part, do you know why I keep going that way?" my boyfriend added, sounding like he had been waiting for his courage to build - or perhaps the right time - to be able say these very things out loud.
"Not necessarily" Ken answered, his tone almost one of irritation.
"Because you're about the nicest guy I know, and being a jerk is about as far away from the real you as anybody can get. What we all did... for me, was like a three on a scale of one to ten. I want to eventually work up to a ten, but I don't know that I can even actually do that... but I still want to try it anyway. Who else could I possibly trust enough to do something like this with; who else could WE possibly trust enough do something like this with?"
"Nobody!" was Ken's honest, blurted out, one word answer, but then he continued...
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.' I think if I was a real jerk, for an extended period of time, you wouldn't like it very much. But, let's just say, hypothetically, that I might be willing to play along like this as an experiment, does Deb come as part of the package too?" Ken was smirking now, he couldn't help himself, but I was doing a little of the same, the possibilities truly endless.
"That's one hundred percent up to Deb, well really both of you. If we do this I don't count, what I think doesn't count, what I say doesn't count either. Look at it another way, didn't we all have fun on our camping trip? And did either of you hear a peep out of me afterwards, any at all? The only thing I would ask is that we do this in such a way that our families don't know about it."
"Okay, I can at least promise you that part, but what if it turns out that I like being a jerk, to you, maybe even to both of you, then what?" Ken asked, possibly the most practical and long term thinking of the three of us back then, but that's not saying much.
"I don't know," my boyfriend admitted, clearly not thinking past his kinky desires to share me again with Ken, nor of the potential long term consequences. One could fairly argue that I wasn't as well, but in my case I had some incredible, passionate, kinky sex as motivation, where my future husband's was just a little more obscure. My boyfriend had all the apparent risk in this proposal, and Ken and I had all the potential reward... unless we accidentally fell in love with each other.
"I think we would have to work that part out first, just sayin."
"What do YOU think Deb?" Ken then asked, purposely bringing me back into this conversation, but he did a lot of that lately. My thoughts mattered, and not just because my boyfriend was his best friend. We shared something now, he and I, post camping trip, and if things went as they may, we might be sharing a lot more of those ‘somethings’ going forward. I could hardly wait!
Ken was at the same time obviously looking for a second and perhaps saner and less passion-infused opinion. Or, perhaps a second option was that he was just looking for further consent... again, even though I thought we had already covered that once. I then came to the conclusion, again, that Cathy had really screwed him up, and that the apparently toughest one of us three was in ways the most fragile. Big strong Ken maybe didn't have a broken heart, but a damaged one, and he needed both of us as friends, perhaps more than ever.
...I think this need for our friendship above all else explains best why Ken was just a little overcautious with an offer that most guys would have literally "jumped on," pun intended. But, this was also turning into more than just a physical thing for me, and while I see that clearly now, back then not so much. I desired Ken, and not just physically...
"I don't know," I answered with a smile, my words ironically identical to my future husband's, but with my teenage inflection this instead translated into "HELL YES!" at least in my mind; all while trying to hide the excitement in my voice so as to appear less than eager for this potential second walk on the wrong side of the tracks. "Did Ken know this though?" I wondered. "Did he have this particular translation in his own teenage vocabulary, or had Cathy ruined that for him too?"
My boyfriend got it quite clearly though, I had just agreed, in theory, to hooking up with Ken again; although what was actually being proposed there in that truck cab was just a little short of that. And, in my mind not just for "regular" sex either, although regular sex with Ken was still awesome.
My boyfriend might not have been privy to the actual details of what exactly Ken and I had done while together in his tent that second afternoon, that there had been rope involved, and that what he had done to me came close - certainly closer that he ever had - of achieving one of my fantasies, in the flesh. My boyfriend and I TALKED about such things, in kinky theoretical story form to help him pop off when I didn't want actual sex, where Ken had ACTUALLY taken me there, and for this alone I wanted this, not to mention all the other good reasons for supporting and building up our friend.
"What exactly was being proposed here though?" I asked myself, there still a bunch of hanging questions left open, and this still bothered me to some extent. Would this be in the form of another lusty camping trip, or what; exactly what then was I actually, potentially, agreeing to? Ken had been vague himself, as if he were trying to figure out the rules of this crazy new game on the fly, just like we were.
"Normal people just didn't do things like this," or so a part of my mind argued, but that was the logical part, and the passionate part of my mind was in control here...
The camping trip, in comparison, had felt spontaneous, I now know that it wasn't, entirely, but to me it still felt like this in a certain part of my mind. This was to be different though, premeditated, although all we were really talking about was playing a little deception on Ken's aunt and uncle to start with, so they would leave him alone on the whole girlfriend thing. As compared to our camping trip, my pretending to be sweet on Ken for his relatives sake was a minor thing. There would be truth to this act as well, and therefore it easier to pull off, because I did like Ken quite a bit, and we had of course been lovers, passionate ones. They didn't necessarily need to know that part, but I suspected that if they were half as perceptive as Sam apparently was, they might just deduce on their own that something was different between Ken and I now.
"How about we let fate decide" my future husband offered optimistically. "How about if your aunt and uncle nudge you two together, we let them, or even encourage them? Deb and I could pretend that we had a fight on the way up here... or better yet, I could just back off and keep to myself like we did, and then see what happens. This way I wouldn't have to lie to them, and you wouldn't have to be a total jerk in front of them either. You could just be there for Deb like a friend, like your aunt and uncle would expect anyway. This way none of us would have to actually lie to them... That's the bet then, if they push you two together, you both let them, and I keep my mouth shut and play along; if they offer both of you the big bedroom, you take it, and I won't say Boo afterwards!"
...It took incredible courage to say such things out loud, courage and submissiveness not complementary traits in my mind at the time though. I had thought initially that my boyfriend's desire for the original threesome that got this whole thing rolling was partially born out of his sexual frustration, our time spent with Ken to keep his spirits up cramping our own sex life back then. But, my boyfriend had been getting "it" lately, with Ken dating again for a bit there, my boyfriend rather easily getting over the disappointment of still having to wear condoms. He didn't even push the issue, one single firm "NO" from me on the subject all it took. He did bitch about taking them off again now, wincing in pain as his little hairs down there got ripped out in the process, the solution obvious to me though. I trimmed and groomed myself down there, why couldn't he?
"...If you want sex, buy condoms," I had told him firmly, after perhaps a week of so for my recovery from my time spent with Ken, and the second week being "that" week, confirming positively that Ken hadn't knocked me up. In comparison, I never had to "recover" from sex with my boyfriend a single time; Ken left both bruises and rope burns, as well as stretching me out and leaving me hanging for a bit, making it slightly painful to walk while wearing panties. I had hidden my stinging discomfort once back home by lying and claiming to have taken a great hike while camping, my physical workout with Ken just as strenuous, although with little actual time spent on my feet. My throat was just a little scratchy and sore too, the general innocent consensus back home being that they hoped I hadn't caught a cold!
...As time went on I began to more fully realize the awesome power I had over this guy of mine, I could usually redirect him in the direction I wanted anyway, but this was different, this was raw abject control. He would do exactly what I wanted - and not do exactly what I didn't want - simply because I had said so; kind of like a trained seal. It was a power a woman my age just shouldn't have over another, but I did. Before you judge me too harshly though, you have to remember that I was freely given this power, I had not taken it by force, nor even deception. I had what that young man wanted, both physically and otherwise, and he would do anything, jump through any hoop, just to please me and get it.
There was obviously a great deal more between us than just physical things, but this was my shallow teenage time, wanting to try everything on the proverbial menu at least once, before I got married and settled down to what I thought could be a boring but stable life. Ken was on that menu too, and we had a theoretical list of things to try together, he and I, and I for one was hungry to get this show on the road.
...To be totally honest with myself from today's perspective, I think I preferred the spontaneity of putting myself into a situation where "fate" could then decide my actions, rather that having concrete plans for X, Y, and Z to strategically occur. In regards to Ken specifically, I wanted him to arrange everything, the fact that I was there with him, in my mind, already signified "permission" to proceed at full speed ahead. Was this desire of mine due to the nature of our first tryst together, or had my boyfriend seen something like this in me for himself, and he then set the conditions for X, Y, and Z to happen "spontaneously" on that camping trip?
My future husband was no longer enough for me as a result of Ken's involvement though. He still felt good, actually quite good, but Ken had inadvertently shown me how extraordinary such things could really be, and how much fun aggression and submission could be too. My safe and submissive guy was just that, and many times that was just fine all by itself, but Ken was EXCITING, like an amusement park, and I so wanted to take every ride in that proverbial park at least once. I think in some measure my boyfriend even realized this, not wanting to hold me back from experiencing that which he couldn't give me personally, at least, I assumed, until we were actually married.
...There was also an element of his "getting off" personally on the concept of Ken and I hooking up again too, although why specifically this turned him on was still something of a mystery at the time...
That also meant that this crossed a line, this not all about my boyfriend doing something for his best friend any longer, but my doing something for myself, and Ken obviously too. I hadn't consciously realized this at the time, deep thoughts and teenage lust like north and north poles on powerful magnets forced together. I simply wanted something, and saw the means to get it, and while morally questionable, it certainly wasn't illegal where we lived. Ken and I were like the north and south poles on those same proverbial magnets, and I knew then that this was definitely going to happen again, it was just a matter of when, and if my future husband would actually be there to see it this time. It may sound terrible, but I felt like I could more easily "let go" and really have some fun if he wasn't, so this turned into my preference for such times.
This desire to force Ken and I together therefore wasn't exclusive to Ken's aunt and uncle either. And, at the same time it didn't seem related to my boyfriend's unsatisfied sexual needs any longer, although I will concede that it may have started out like this. He had also apparently worked out how Ken could take me someplace alone without raising suspicions back home, setting the blueprint for further play, at least until we had our own place and some real privacy, or Ken did. There was always the cabin though, it was quite private, although unfortunately a long way from home and therefore more of a planned trip, rather than a spontaneous one during the week.
"How about the wager being a date, at some later time, but with just Deb and I this time? We three could leave together, but we could drop you off at a movie, or the mall, or really anyplace... so our folks wouldn't be the wiser. Deb and I could talk this out in private then, and let you know what WE'VE decided... if we even want to," Ken added with a smile, clearly trying on his jerk persona experimentally for my boyfriend to see. It was obvious that Ken was trying something new here, but cautiously, although conspicuously absent was the horned up hard charging dominant young man that had rocked my world recently.
"My aunt and uncle just aren't going to offer us the nice bedroom, most especially with you here with us."
"Okay then, an alone date with me dumped off someplace, if you guys get pushed together" my boyfriend agreed far too quickly, almost certain to lose this one, just like his last bet with us that left him naked and bound, and Ken and I alone to fool around at will...
"Buuuuut... if they offer you guys the room, will you take it?" my boyfriend asked hopefully.
Ken looked at me, and I at him, "NO" I answered firmly, for the both of us. "I'm not willing to do that in front of anyone we know, and you know that if we did, such news would find its way back home before we even did."
My words at the same time implied that I was perfectly willing to do these kinds of things, just under certain conditions though. Specifically perhaps even in front of, or dare I say with, people we didn't actually know. This would open me up to one hell of an adventure in the near future, it one of my most wild fantasies, but one so wild and taboo that I had put on the back burner as impossible to achieve in the real world, consequences wise...