Chapter 7: New Friends

Our meeting with the Reddicks, Dunns, and Aidan was a lot chummier than our first get together. We felt like old friends, and they were more open about the extent of their relationships and feelings for each other. I don’t think they’d been holding back in our earlier meeting, it’s just that we ran out of time.

We covered the rest of Lyle’s questions, plus Nancy, Gale, Chip, and Aidan got a chance to question us, too. Their questions were good ones, and I even took notes because many of the questions were things we had never discussed as a group. I wanted to bring them up at our next monthly meeting of our foursome for clarity in my own family.

Before and after our Q&A period, we had a number of different lively conversations while Chip and Aidan attended the grill, this time for spare ribs and chicken. There was a bite to the November air, so we ended up eating inside scattered around the Reddick’s family room.

When we went to leave, I found it natural that I shook the men’s hand, and got substantial kisses from Nancy and Gale. On our side, Fran, Sheila, and Ally gave generous kisses to Chip, Aidan, and Lyle. I even noticed Ally giving Aidan a little tongue, and that made my cock stir in my pants because it looked so sexy.

We got to the Henson’s home right at five o’clock, just in time for the cocktail hour. As we trooped into the house, Jean greeted us and again I got a far-from-modest kiss. Jean molded her body to mine, pushing her groin into mine in a full-body hug, and we shared a long slow kiss, this time with a little tongue. We were both panting when we pulled apart. I was worried about what just happened.

I glanced around at Fran, Sheila, and Ally, and while they had seen us they didn’t bat an eye at what had just transpired. They were in fact all smiling in an approving way.

I turned to Jean and said, “That’s almost the hottest kiss I’ve had all week.”

Jean smiled, patted my chest, and said, “I guess I’d better talk to my girls then. They must be falling down on the job of keeping you happy and well loved.” I countered that I was very happy and loved, but that we were talkers not kissers the past week.

Jean pulled me with her towards the kitchen explaining that we needed to do both. “I know you are physical with the girls, but don’t stop romantic kisses with each other – or me. A kiss communicates all sorts of sentiments: love, passion, affection, anticipation, eroticism, hope, and respect to mention a few.”

Before I had my brain fully engaged, I asked, “And what did your kiss just communicate?”

Jean gave me a coy smile and replied, “All of those.” She blushed slightly and turned to tend to the salad she’d been making when we arrived.

I might have pursued the matter further; however, my three roommates came into the kitchen followed by their father. Dave and I shook hands.

My brain was scrambled after Jean’s kiss and more so over her reply to my hasty question. Was she coming on to me? I always thought of myself as the pursuer, but was I now being slowly seduced on each visit to their home? Did she want to have sex with me? WTF! What kind of a relationship should I have with my girlfriends’ mother – a future mother-in-law? Why had she pushed her hips into mine? Could she feel me harden as we kissed; it would have been hard to miss? Should I be embarrassed?

Dave latched onto me. “Steve, come on back to the den. There’s a good college game on television; the score was tied a minute ago and the fourth quarter is just starting.” I dutifully followed the girls’ father for a quarter of football.

About the only notable comment after that point was from Dave. He commented that he had tried some of the techniques I’d coached him about the prior week – techniques to extend intercourse, and to manage orgasms – and he was happy with the results so far. He asked a few explicit questions including one about the A-spot, and I told him what I recalled from the lectures.

I had to remind myself that this was a family who talked openly about their sexuality without any embarrassment or reservations. Nothing was held back apparently. I gathered from the girls that they’d had very frank and descriptive talks with their mother about how we all made love together, or managed our sex together. Fran used the term, ‘On a stroke-by-stroke basis’, so I figured there wasn’t much more she could know.

That thought brought me back to thinking of Jean’s kiss and what it communicated. When she said she was communicating all those sentiments, some of them were pretty sexy and highly intimate. Did she really mean to communicate that much?

I looked at Dave, but he was now focused on the football game. He was a virile man for his age despite the appearance of salt and pepper hair and the laugh lines around his eyes. I wondered if he had feelings or urges about his daughters. They were certainly ripe and attractive, and a red-blooded male. How could he not?

I resolved to do a little research about incest. I’d not thought of that word before, but I guess that described the interrelationship of the girls. They were sisters and played together sexually. They openly displayed the affection they felt for each other, and when we were doing a group sex evening, they had no qualms about pleasuring each other.

The rest of the evening was sanguine until we were leaving. I watched each girl give her dad a robust kiss goodbye, one hotter than I’d ever noticed before. Jean caught me up in another knock-your-socks-off, groin-grinding kiss. She had also put her arm around my neck to pull me closer during the kiss. This time there was no doubt, her tongue snaked its way into my mouth and we played tonsil hockey for about thirty seconds.

I’m sure I blushed, but then I just bid Jean and Dave goodnight, and off we went to drive home.

I waited to bring up Jean’s kiss until our How-Goes-It meeting on Friday night. I needed time to assess my own thoughts on what had happened. I’d made a bunch of notes about the kiss, what had been said, and also many of the questions that had been raised by our new friends that we’d seen the past two weekends.

We sat around the dinner table after a nourishing meal that Fran and I had prepared. The two of us could relax at this point, since clean-up was the duty of Ally and Sheila.

I started, “Well, I’d like to go last because I have some thoughtful things to discuss. Don’t worry none of them are about how we’re living or getting along.”

The girls looked mildly interested. Ally raised the space issue again. We were all feeling cramped in the small apartment that had been my bachelor pad. I agreed that we should start looking for larger quarters.

Sheila pointed out that we’d been living together for over four months, and she wondered whether Fran and she should keep paying the rent on their apartments. I could see no problems in the deeper commitments we made to each other by continuing to live together. The only question I raised was where to put all the clothing and a few furniture items we’d parked in Fran’s apartment.

A couple of housekeeping requests were made about personal stuff left in public spaces, and we agreed to be a little neater.

The table then turned to me.

“As you know I took some notes about the questions we were getting from the Reddicks, Dunns, and Aidan the last two weekends. Some of my questions are extensions of what they asked, and I think it’ll provoke some interesting discussion.”

Fran gestured for me to get on with it.

“Okay. I’ll ask this question bluntly, because I think you’ve all been raised in an open way about such topics. If I’m offending anyone, please say so. My first question to all of us is this, what would happen if one or some of us found someone else we wanted to either (a) have sex with, or (b) see added to our circle?”

I could see the wheels start to turn in each girl’s head. Sheila responded first but tentatively, “I’d like to see us have an open relationship that’s larger than the four of us. If we have outside sex, and we should let the others know. We should also use protection.”

Ally said, “I wouldn’t want just anyone brought into our circle because one of us had a whim about somebody they just met. I draw a line between a brief fling – in which case I agree with Sheila, and having someone in our intimate circle. The person I have a one-night stand with, so to speak, may not be a person any of you would like to have a relationship with.” Ally paused and added, “And just so you know, my inclination is not to have one-night stands week after week.”