Don Juan. Casanova. Wilt Chamberlain. God knows I’m not quite part of that sexually overachieving roster. I can’t imagine anyone paying hard-earned cash to read my bedroom memoirs. Who’d think I’d ever feel compelled to write to Penthouse Letters?

That said, I’m no virgin. In my early 40s now, I’ve had an active sex life. I was married once, and I’ve had a few other long-term relationships. I’ve experimented with Kama Sutra positions and filmed myself getting busy with FWBs. I’ve attended sex parties, swingers clubs, and even a gangbang. Often, I was on the sidelines at such events, but I was there!

But if you’d told me 10 years ago that I’d wind up sharing a bed with my ex-wife and her current husband, I’d have laughed my ass off.

Except that’s exactly what happened.

I first met Lucie — the woman I would marry — as a university student. This was at one of those big state institutions that began as an agricultural school but eventually added other programs. Still, it could never quite shake its reputation as a “cow college.” I majored in Music Education, planning to become a band teacher. I’d been a trombone player in high school, and marching band had been a big part of my life. I decided I wanted to make my career in that world.

Lucie showed up at the school’s music department when I was a sophomore. She was a freshman voice student, and a fine one. She could sing operatic stuff, but also pop songs. She took on roles in some of the school musicals, always loving the spotlight and the ovations. She was both beautiful and glamorous. Coming from an Italian background, she sported a dark, luxurious mane, flawless skin and strong, attractive features. What she saw in rather clumsy, acne-plagued, B-plus trombonist me, I’ll never know. But she was my first big thing. I’d had a girlfriend during freshman year who used to give me handjobs, but I lost my virginity to Lucie.

I wasn’t, however, the only one who could make that claim. Lucie was sex-positive back when it wasn’t such an easy thing for a college girl to be. She was fearless. If anyone intimated she was slutty, she didn’t bat an eye. Her cold stare silently reprimanded them for being small-minded and hypocritical.

At first, I wasn’t crazy about her freewheeling side. But I learned to go with the flow. Lucie seemed to enjoy riding my hard cock as much as I enjoyed being ridden. She and I soon mastered those Kama Sutra positions I’d mentioned earlier. And then we brought other bedmates into the mix. She was experimenting openly with bisexuality during college, and more than once, she and I partook in a threesome with one of her “biology projects,” as she dubbed her youthful sapphic partners.

We married when I was a senior in college and she was a junior. Then things fell apart. I took a job as a music teacher in a middle school in another state, while she finished her degree. The long-distance relationship was hell. Soon she had fallen for another guy. Not even a musician — a psychology student! A year disappeared. And so did our marriage. I’d begun seeing someone else, too. The divorce was amicable.

We remained friends through the years, though we met face-to-face only occasionally. I stopped being a music teacher and became a CPA. She and I each had a series of significant others. Then she met Roger — a big, friendly, funny guy who co-owned a wholesale tropical fish business in the Southwest.

“Lordy, Gordy,” she’d confided over the phone when she announced their marriage. “I thought I’d never meet my soul mate, and Christ knows I’ve searched long and hard, so to speak. Then, along came this guy. And there’s no turning back for me.”

About four years ago, I broke up with a woman named Deborah, whom I’d been living with for a couple of years. The less said about her, the better. She’s a good person, but not such a good person for me. She was not a huge fan of things carnal, that’s for sure. Suffice it to say, she was one of those people who might have tried slut-shaming Lucie back in our university days. But like so many others, she’d have failed.

Anyhow, when I let Lucie and Roger know I’d broken up with Deborah, they weren’t surprised. But Lucie was quite distraught about it. She’s always wanted the best for me, and she’d hoped Deborah might have been my soul mate. She offered me a lifeline.

“Come for a visit!” she said. “Get out of the cold, and come breathe the clean desert air.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” I told her, then began planning my trip.

It was Roger who met me at the airport. In truth, I’d only met the guy on three or four occasions, but he was easy to talk with. As we drove to his and Lucie’s impressive ranch-style house, we talked about my breakup with Deborah.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” I said. “We never really understood each other.”

“Bad communication?”

“Not at the beginning. And through the whole time we were together, we could talk things out. It’s just that we weren’t — sexually compatible,” I explained.

“Ouch. That’s no good.”

I hesitated for a moment about saying more, but I felt the need to unload. Roger was more understanding about this kind of thing than most of my male friends, who would turn all conversations involving sex into a big joke.

“Things in bed were good at first,” I told him. But I explained that after a year or so, Deborah didn’t seem to want sex at all. However, I was still ready to fuck her every night of the week. But it got to the point where if we got busy once every two weeks, that was a pretty good tally. I’d been the one who suggested therapy. She refused and brushed me off.

“She treated me like I was a sex maniac,” I concluded, “just because I wanted to fuck once or twice a week.”

“Maybe look at it this way,” said Roger as we rolled into his and Lucie’s neighborhood. “You didn’t exactly dodge the bullet, but the bullet didn’t kill you. And you didn’t have to go through a divorce.”

“Yeah. Well, you and Lucie. You really lucked out.”

“I know. It’s not always perfect. But it’s pretty close. And when it comes to bedroom stuff — well, if anything, Lucie is hornier than I am.”

We both smiled conspiratorially, happy to share the knowledge that Lucie’s libido was nothing short of monumental. It was still, apparently, as dependable as winter preceding spring or as Wednesday following Tuesday.

“I guess she’s wired that way,” I said. “It wasn’t just a youthful phase.”

“Nope,” Roger said. “And she’s the first to admit it. ‘Once a slut, always a slut.’ That’s her actual motto!”

“You’re a lucky guy. But you know that.”

“Oh, yeah!”

Seconds later, we turned into the driveway beside their spacious home. Lucie was standing with a watering can in front of a shrub that looked like it didn’t belong in desert terrain. She was tanned and fit, her hair still rich and dark, if flecked with some silver. She wore shorts and a sports bra that displayed her physical charms in the best way.

“There’s our gal,” said Roger. “Making things grow.”

When I exited the car, Lucie embraced me, squeezing me extra hard as if to say “I know, you’ve had a bad time of it.” Once again holding her soft body against mine, I felt a bit of a jolt. My heart beat a bit faster, and my dick perked up, twitched slightly, and seemed to say “I’m still here, Gordon. Just so you know.” I caught a whiff of the musky, almost woodsy fragrance Lucie had always worn, which seemed to unlock something in me that had been cooped up for a long while.

Lucie was genuinely happy to see me. And she lied prettily and told me how great I looked. I told her I’d put on more than a few pounds since the last time we’d met, but she insisted I looked better filled out a little, instead of “all haggard like some scrawny coyote.” Maybe she was humoring me, but everything she said seemed sincere.

We went inside, and I put my things in the spare bedroom. The three of us had a couple of rounds of vodka tonics in the living room and caught up with one another. After a while, Roger went outside and fired up the grill. While he was out, Lucie and I talked about my breakup with chilly Deborah.

“Is the woman an idiot?” Lucie asked. “I mean, c’mon. She has a nice guy with a sweet personality, a solid income, sharp looks and good moves on the mattress. And she can’t let him into her precious snatch every now and then? That’s what I call idiotic.”

“Maybe I don’t have all that anymore,” I said sheepishly. “Maybe she just put up with my extra poundage and sub-par romantic skills because I was… ”

“Was what?”

“Solvent. Unacquainted with Chapter 11.”

Lucie’s response was adamant. “Don’t you ever talk yourself down like that, Gordy. You’re a handsome man. You’re virile, and — believe me — you’ll always have a handle on your sex moves. That’s something you don’t forget. It’s like — .”

She started laughing, and then we quickly raised our glasses in a toast and spoke in unison our old joke from those long-ago days when we were bringing Lucie’s girlfriends into our bed: “It’s like riding a bisexual.”

Roger came in for a second and told us the burgers were on the grill. I got up to help Lucie set the table. As we stood at the open refrigerator door, I was surprised when she put her hand on the small of my back and then let it wander to my ass. She kept it there as she said, sotto voce: “I’m serious, Gordy. You’ve still got it.” We looked in each other’s eyes. Should I kiss her? I wondered. She smiled mischievously. “Your glutes will always be beauts,” she teased. And she swatted my butt once, a playful smack.

Then, immediately, she reached into the fridge and handed me a big bowl of potato salad. “Put that on the table, will ya? There’s a serving spoon there on the counter.”

Before we feasted, I quickly excused myself to freshen up with a super-quick hot shower. Roger had grilled the burgers to perfection, and he opened two bottles of wine, one red and one white. We were all in a lively mood, and good conversation flowed as briskly as the vino. We’d spoken about playing a favorite board game after we ate, but we were all so talkative that we never got around to it. It was after midnight when we retired. It had been an especially long day for me because of the time difference. But I was still wide awake. I settled in for the night, but decided I would finish reading the magazine article I’d begun earlier on the plane.

The knock on the bedroom door came just a minute or so after I’d put the magazine down.

“Come in! I’m decent!”

It was Roger. With a fairly serious face.

“Hey, Gordon. Mind if I talk with you a sec?”

Oh, no, I thought. Did he see that episode at the refrigerator when Lucie swatted my buns?

“Everything OK?” I asked nervously. “Sit down if you want.”

He sat at the foot of the bed.

“Sure. Things are fine, it’s just… ”

“What?

“This is a little strange, but Lucie was wondering. Any chance you’d like to join us in our room tonight?”

Whoa! That was certainly not what I expected. Talk about being at a loss for words. Whatever I mumbled was more nonsense syllables than anything.

“Look, I know Lucie used to do threeways with you and other women. She and I have done that, too. It’s great. But having two guys? Gordon, that drives her batshit crazy. We’ve done it quite a bit over the years, and we’ve had some great times. See, she still finds you sexy. And I trust you. You’re a good guy. I think it would be cool if the two of us fucked her — together.”

My heart was racing wildly, and my dick was soon fully engorged.

“Hope you aren’t offended,” he said. “That’s the last thing we’d want.”

“No. Not offended. Not at all. I’m flattered, but you know, I was her husband. And you are her husband.”

He smiled, and his face was red.

“I know, I know. Frankly, Gordon? That’s the part that really gets her going. And I’ve got to say it: I kind of like the idea, too.”

“Damn. I never thought of this.”

“Tell you what: If you decide you want to join us, knock on our door within the next half hour. If you don’t knock, we’ll pretend you and I never had this conversation. If you do knock… well, it might be really something. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah. I guess. Sure.” I thought I might start shaking, but when Roger was gone, I knew instantly there was no doubt about my answer.

I waited about 10 minutes before I knocked. But when I did, no one responded. I wondered if they were playing some kind of trick on me. Then I saw light from under a different door. I’d been knocking at the bathroom!

When I knocked on the right door, Roger swiftly let me in. He wore plaid boxer shorts, nothing else. He was less hairy than I’d expected.

“We thought you’d come a-knocking,” he said. “We’re both glad you did.”

There, sprawled on the bed, bathed in soft light, was my ex-wife. She wore a pair of white lacy panties, nothing more. Her breasts were as fine as I remembered them from years before. I’ve never slept with another woman with nipples as beautiful as hers: pointed, dark and oh-so-suckable — and, right now, they stood at attention with arousal.

Roger had crept back to the bed and was stretched out beside her. As I stepped toward her, I got a bigger whiff of her familiar wood-nymph fragrance.

“Hi, Gordy,” she said — shyly for her. “I’m glad you decided to join us.

“Roger asked so politely,” I joked. “How could I refuse?”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she said. “But you seem to be a little overdressed.”

Slowly, I began disrobing. I removed my socks and then peeled off my T-shirt.

“Sorry we don’t have any striptease music,” joked Lucie.

“We’ll manage without,” I said. I pulled down my pajama pants, unleashing my hard prick.

“Oh, it’s Li’l Gordy!” she said with a giggle. “Roger, I’ve told you about him.”

“Doesn’t seem so ‘li’l’ to me,” said Roger. He then shucked his boxers. His cock was about the size of mine, and it was as hard as a pipe wrench.

“Here’s Big Rog,” he said.

“So nice to be with my two favorite dicks in the whole world,” Lucie said. “And their penises aren’t bad, either.”

Always the clown, our Lucie!

Roger began kissing and licking her most convenient tit, basting it with love and saliva. I lay down at her other side and got to work on her unoccupied breast. I’d forgotten how smooth, soft and tasty her skin could be. It had been several weeks since I’d been to bed with a woman, and I was hungry — famished — for her femaleness. I gave her nipple the tiniest little baby kisses, over and over. When I finally took it between my lips, massaging it with my tongue, she broke into a low, humming sort of moan.

It was only partly my attention to her breast that had prompted those love sounds. Roger had quietly pulled down her panties, and his face was buried in her crotch.

“Oh, you guys,” she said, her voice dripping with lust. “If I’ve died and gone to heaven, it’s definitely nice being dead.”

I continued pleasuring her nipple, but now with my fingers. I’ve always been an avid voyeur. I wanted to get a good look at what my bedmates were doing.

“Let Gordy have a turn down there,” said Lucie.

Roger came up for air and asked, “Do I have to?”

“Yes, honey,” she instructed. “Gordy’s been waiting his turn for a good, long time.”

Her fur-shrouded twat was good and juicy when I moved my mouth to it. I’d always liked her natural bush. I was happy she hadn’t followed fashion and shaved her pubes.

It seemed Roger was as much a voyeur as I was. He sat and watched as I lapped at Lucie’s pussy and tongued her clit. He egged me on by saying, “Give her a good lickin’, Gordo.”

Then he said, “This is fun, Lucie. But Li’l Gordy and Big Rog are feeling a bit neglected here.”

Then he and I sat beside each other, leaning back against the headboard, while Lucie took turns sucking us. At one point, she had a dick in each hand and said, “I always thought your willies were similar, but this proves it!”

If anything, her dick-sucking skills were better than when she and I were married. She was more adept at deep-throating, it seemed. I was impressed.

Fucking was next on the agenda. Roger urged me to go first. I put on a condom and lay on my back. Lucie sat facing me, easing her vagina onto my rigid pole. I pumped up into her familiar cunt, and it was like I’d entered a time machine. This was the woman to whom I’d given my virginity and with whom I’d spent my wedding night. It would have been weird if it hadn’t been so hot.

The big surprise came next. Roger pushed his greased erection into her bum hole as I continued fucking her pussy. This wasn’t my first time ever as part of a DP scenario, but it was the best episode ever. We all rocked and moaned and huffed and puffed. Our orgasms were nearly synchronized, though Lucie came moments before Roger, and I blew my load a split second after he did.

Never mind. We would have better luck at the simultaneous-orgasm game in the days to come.

Yes, the three of us continued our three-way excursions during the remainder of my visit. And it was beyond fantastic.

Some people might not think this kind of thing is for them. And I can see how there could be little jealousies and disappointments among the parties in this kind of situation. But it worked for us, and we have had several similar encounters together in the years since. We’ve been apart during the pandemic, but as the situation evolves, we look forward to many more sexy reunions.