COME FEED ME

I’ve had an on again off again affair with Liz for over 
ten years. She and husband Joe have been and are still 
friends with Ellen and I. Joe and I have deployed 
together on numerous occasions. We’ve literally saved 
each other’s lives. Joe has covered my ass with Ellen 
and I’ve done the same for him with Liz. Both of us 
enjoy fucking military wives. We both know enough about 
each other to send the other to jail. But that’s the 
way friends are. It’s rare for guys to have a really 
good friend. The egos of men are just too damn fragile. 
I only have two good friends that I would trust with my 
life, and Joe is one of them. 

Because Joe and I are friends, it was only natural that 
our wives became friends too. Though they are different 
in many ways, they are about the same size – Liz is a 
35-C and Ellen is a 36-D. Ellen, at 5’ 7", is about an 
inch shorter than Liz. Liz, on the other hand, has a 
wider ass and heavier thighs. Great for sports and even 
better for someone like me that loves a big ass and 
luscious thighs. Ellen, especially when she’s been 
drinking, enjoys a titty-fuck, and she has the breasts 
for it. Also, when she’s really smashed, will do anal. 
I’ve often felt that given enough alcohol, she would 
fuck an entire brigade. 

Over the years, Liz and I have found that we have more 
in common with each other than we do with our spouses – 
even though she is black and I’m white. I say black, 
but really she’s a more Holly Berry type of maple syrup 
brown. Trips, vacations, picnics, movies, lots of 
dinners and card games – we’ve done it all together. 
And fortunately for Joe and I, Liz and Ellen enjoy each 
other’s company too. 

It’s just impossible though to spend that much time 
with the opposite sex and not eventually succumb to the 
temptation to make love. That happened to us, but it 
was not an accident. It was intentional. Cheating was 
not a concern for us – maybe it should have been – but 
it wasn’t. Liz is a beautiful woman. I wanted to fuck 
her and she wanted to fuck me.

But there was a major consideration. Would having sex 
threaten the intimacy our relationship in any way? We 
were closer than most married couples – openly sharing 
our feelings – discussing everything from investments 
to retirement to our sexual preferences to our spouse's 
weaknesses – something that is a rarity with couples. 
We are simply soul mates. Oh yes, there was a twinge of 
guilt that we were being unfaithful to Ellen and Joe, 
but that changed too – by accident.

Liz and I enjoy sports and the outdoors. Joe and Ellen 
don’t. They like art and music – craft shows and flea 
markets and garage sales. Those events bore the hell 
out of Liz and I. So it isn’t unusual for us to be 
golfing while Joe and Ellen hit the garage sales or 
something like it. 

About six months after Liz and I began having sex, I 
picked her up for one of our Saturday morning golf 
outings. These usually lasted until mid-afternoon. Our 
agenda was to golf eighteen holes, hit a motel for 
several hours, then return home. On this particular 
morning, I picked up Liz but after golfing nine holes 
we decided to end the golf game and return home. The 
plan was to let Joe and Ellen know that we thought it 
would be a great idea to take a short overnight trip. 
If there was to be an obstacle, it would be Ellen, so I 
needed to clear it with her first. Joe would do 
whatever Liz wanted. 

Pulling up to the house it seemed odd that Joe’s car 
was there; it was only about ten o’clock. Entering the 
house, Ellen and Joe were nowhere to be seen. Thinking 
they might be sitting out on the patio, we proceeded 
through the house. But that idea didn’t last long for 
we heard what were unmistakable sounds coming from the 
bedroom.

It was the unmistakable sound of fucking – flesh 
against flesh. Then we heard Ellen, "Aaaah! Ah! Aaah! 
Fuck me! Fuck me like a bitch in heat!" From Ellen’s 
high-pitched gasping words I knew that Joe was putting 
it to her dog fashion. 

I looked at Liz and could tell that she was very upset. 
I was too, somewhat, but at the moment one of need to 
keep their cool. I put my finger to my lips to imply 
‘be quiet.’ We then walked softly down the hall until 
we could see their images in a dressing table mirror. 
They were on the bed with their backs to us – Joe was 
behind Ellen. He was on his left knee; his right leg 
was beside her right hip. This gave him better access 
at her. 

Ellen’s chest and head were down on the bed. Joe was 
controlling the action by gripping her by the hips. He 
was thrusting with everything he had. Ellen was getting 
a good ole down-home country dog fashion fucking. The 
strokes weren’t fast but they were hard. Each was so 
hard it made a slapping sound, and that’s not easy to 
do fucking dog fashion. 

We stood there, mesmerized, watching her black husband 
fuck my white wife. Ellen was in full groan mode now. 
She was gripping the sheets and holding on for dear 
life. It was quite a site. I couldn’t help but think 
how opposite the picture was with Liz and I. Instead of 
black on white, with us it’s white on black. Liz loves 
to fuck dog fashion. 

I could tell that things weren’t going to last much 
longer for them, so rather than have things explode, 
threaten two families and some wonderful friendships, I 
grabbed Liz’s arm and we headed back to the car. We 
needed to talk. 

At first Liz and I were both angry. How could they? But 
of course they weren’t doing anything that Liz and I 
hadn’t been doing for months. Our conversation centered 
on what would be the outcome if we confronted them. 
Probably the end of our friendship. For me, was Joe’s 
friendship worth loosing, considering all we had been 
through, just because he fucked my wife? I had to also 
consider the fact that I was also fucking his wife, and 
I deeply cared for her. 

For Liz the issue went much deeper. I believe it does 
for a woman. Could she remain friendly with Ellen 
knowing that this would not be the last time they would 
be together? 

We spent as much time together as we could discussing 
all this. Strange as it may seem, during this time we 
never had sex with each other, but sex with our spouses 
picked up. This of course is a normal behavior for 
people that are cheating. If it’s a wife, she wants sex 
more frequently and the sex is more intense. She 
usually behaves hotter. 

For the husband, the behavior is similar. He wants sex 
more often and usually is more willing to try things 
new or different. Often a wife is pleasantly surprised 
at her husband’s willingness to break out of his fuck-
rut. But little does she realize that it’s another 
woman’s pussy that has helped him out of his rut. 
Instead of complaining though, she ought to send a 
‘thank you’ card.

Eventually Liz and I decided to say nothing. I love her 
and don’t want anything to threaten that, even if it 
means every now and then my wife gives my friend some 
pussy. It’s not like it has an expiration date on it. 
It will still be there when I need it. I told this to 
Liz. 

After a rather long discussion, she agreed. From her 
perspective she realized she had already been sharing 
me. She refused to give up our intimacy. She told me 
that most women traded pussy thinking they would get 
intimacy, but never got it. But she already had it and 
had no plans to give it up. She did plan though to cut 
Joe way back on his allotment of wife pussy. I didn’t 
say anything, but figured that only meant he would be 
fucking Ellen more often, which in turn meant I would 
be fucking Liz more often. 

It was turning into a vicious cycle of fucking. 

Though that all happened nearly ten years ago, we are 
still friends. Joe and Ellen don’t know that we caught 
them; we never said a word. Since then Liz and I have 
had an on and off again love affair. The ‘off times’ 
have only been because we have been stationed far 
apart. 

Now that I’m out of the military, I still make every 
effort to be with her as much as possible, while at the 
same time keeping it hidden from Ellen.

*** 

Here is an email from Liz. It is used with her 
permission. I have cleaned up her punctuation and 
grammar, and some of her language – when she’s drinking 
she gets foul-mouthed – but other than that, it’s 
vintage Liz. 

***

Hello! I’ve had you on my mind all day today – in fact, 
several days. When are you coming down? It’s been two 
months ya know. Things are more hectic here than ever. 
Joe has twenty in now...I think he’s had enough...he 
should have got out when you did. He hasn’t decided if 
we’re going to move back to Chicago or not. Ya know I’m 
ready. lol

Working all these hours really saps the sex drive. I’m 
ashamed to say that I have been rarely horny these past 
few weeks. The worst part is, because of my lack of 
energy I’m starting to prefer masturbation to the real 
thing. Am I mal-adjusted? Don’t answer that. Using my 
wand is so much easier. Maybe that’s why I love my wand 
so much - I don't have to make love to it, and it 
doesn't mind when I’m the only one that gets off. 

I mean, making love is great when I have the energy and 
time, but when I just want an orgasm, the vibrator is 
the way to go. Wish you were here. I really miss how 
you just sit and listen while I go on and on. I’m on my 
fourth glass of wine. I’ll be crying for the nights 
out. Joe’s not here, call me.

All this is wearing on Joe as he’s on vacation and I’m 
the one working. I’m afraid I’m hurting his feelings 
when I’d rather rub one out, so I wait till he's asleep 
before I do the deed. And you thought only you guys 
were the ones who hid their jerking off from their 
significant others. Well, this woman does too. But you 
knew that anyway. Did I ask you when you were coming 
down? lol 

I can hear you now, "Why are you hiding it?" Simple – 
when Joe sees me masturbate, he takes it that I’m ready 
for sex – if I turn him down, he gets offended – 
something I don't want to do to him. So I’m caught and 
end up getting fucked, and that’s not what I wanted. 
The things I do to keep him happy. I really, really 
miss you. You promised me we would be together at least 
once a month. What’s happened?

Why can't I just come right out and tell him all I want 
to do is get off? Of course, he thinking: I’m here - 
you don't need to jerk off. And I’m thinking: that's 
why I’m rubbing one out – I want my orgasm without 
having to suck your dick, because I just don't have the 
energy and desire right now. But can I really say that? 
Of course not. Why? Where are you when I need you?

So what do I wind up doing? Having sex. I tell him 
right away that my back is hurting and all I’m gonna do 
is missionary. Generally, he’s ok with that. It’s just 
my opinion, but missionary is the lazy girl's way of 
having sex. You never let me get away with that. But 
with you, I always wanted more. With you, even during 
times like tonight, all I have to do is lay down, 
spread my legs, and you just lick and suck away. It 
isn’t so much eating as it is dining for you. lol You 
always know when I don’t have the energy for a long 
fuck. Why can’t Joe figure that out too? 

I remember the night when you were kissing and licking 
your way up my legs. You mentioned the maple syrup 
color of my thighs – when you finally got to my pussy, 
you kissed it softly and said it was pure maple sugar. 
Over time maple sugar became maple valley. Well, 
tonight maple valley doesn’t need a hard fucking, but 
she sure could use a gentle tongue bath. I just want to 
relax, open my legs, lay them up on your back and let 
you get me off. It’s about my needs tonight. 

Normally, when I’m energetic, I prefer being on top – 
but that’s work. Believe it or not, it takes as much 
effort when a woman’s on top as when a guy is on top. 
It’s work riding a guy and kegeling his dick for all 
it's worth. And the thighs get a workout too. Maybe 
that's why I’m so thin – or used to be – you kept my 
weight fucked off. I tucker myself out when I’m really 
into the sex. 

My way of safely ‘mailing it in’ is by doing 
missionary. I don't know if other women who do mostly 
missionary think they're ‘mailing it in’ sex-wise, but 
compared to the work done in other positions, 
missionary is definitely a cop-out. I don’t know why 
I’m telling you this. It’s not that you haven’t heard 
it from me before. Guess it’s the wine. I’m really down 
and lonely. I remember you telling me the subtle 
difference between feeling alone and feeling lonely. 
Are you going to come down? I promise I’ll fuck you, 
but first I want you to make love to me. 

The drawback of being on top is sometimes Joe wants to 
prolong himself so his orgasm is that much more 
intense. He thinks that lasting longer will impress me. 
Well, it doesn't. When my thighs are starting to hurt, 
I just want him to hurry up and cum. But can I tell him 
that? Hell no! Imagine if I told him, "hurry up – my 
thighs are killing me!" But he's having such a good 
time that he doesn't want to cum yet. Don’t get me 
wrong, I take that as a compliment, but my thighs feel 
like they're ready to just give out. 

So when I do a great job, I really do a great job. 
Unfortunately, I’m like a cheetah stamina-wise. I can 
hit the top speed quickly, but I can only sustain it 
for a short period of time. I can only fuck so fast for 
so long. My kegeling is like that too – I can do it 
intensely for a little while, and normally, this gets 
the job done – Joe cums in no time flat, and my work is 
done. But oh no – sometimes, he gets ideas and wants my 
kegeling to last forever. Well, what am I, a machine? 
I’m not big on marathons you know. 

So I’ve got a message for you from maple valley...

"Don’t touch me...at least not just yet. Let me 
confess: 

"I am feeling sensitive. When I’m like this, I put up a 
tough pretense. I wrap my outer lips around myself like 
a big thick blanket, keeping myself safe and cozy 
against the evils of the outside world. I can sense my 
dark hair standing on end, as if each were being lifted 
up like a standard. My guard is up – but I’m just being 
prissy. I just need to warm up.

"Oh...ummmm..."

I’m starting to awaken – I can feel my thick, maple 
lips start to swell and blush. Soon, they will throb 
and pucker as blood pulses throughout. You don’t notice 
it yet, but I’m beginning to quiver from deep within as 
my lips curl invitingly outward. They form large, soft, 
light brown maple petals – lightly frosted with 
delicate brown curls. I am warm and friendly now, my 
lips are wide, open on their own, and they bid you 
welcome. 

There is no discrimination – I am ready to greet 
anything that dares venture into my glistening depths. 
I have oiled the way for your entrance. I’ve made you a 
succulent sauce to be savored. 

"I am getting hot now... my clitoris is swelling... 
very soon it will make its appearance – erect and 
demanding – standing tall and proud. My inner lips are 
still relaxed, loose and cottony with a love elixir, 
yet hungry for light touches. They are like tender 
desert flowers waiting for the rain so they too may 
blossom. My inner surfaces glisten with the dew of 
desire, and my skin color is deepening to a deep maple 
syrup brown. I am getting humid, very humid and sweaty 
– aroused! It’s aromatic. Don’t make me wait! 

"I have changed. I’m a lust driven monster and I crave 
something to grip, to hold, to caress. My lips are 
outward and poised – waiting. The inner folds are 
curling away from my velvety interior. I am bold and 
brazen now, even brash and I don’t care. I’m open – 
wide and inviting. Maple Valley is wet and hot to the 
touch. I tingle and have become needy – very needy. 

"I need more. I want to consume, to be filled, to 
encase and clinch. I have been awakened and I’m hungry. 
I demand that I get what I want – I throb and I pulse. 
I quiver and I quaver. I am a starving monster, no 
longer sensitive and shy. 

"Come feed me."

When are you coming down?