The week rolled on and it was Friday afternoon, the end of our conference. For the flight home Helen wore her conference gear: T-shirt, short denim skirt, rubber thongs, no bra, no panties. Although it was not outrageous, it still turned me on enormously, knowing what little she was wearing, and how willing she was to share her body with me, or anyone else for that matter.
Once in the air she whispered to me “Fred, have you ever joined the mile-high club.” “Yes. Sure. Why?” “Because I haven't and I want to.” I beckoned the hostess, slipped her $100 and asked “Can we use your galley area for 10 minutes.” “Sure. Do you want me to keep watch for you?” “Yes please.” We slipped unobtrusively into the galley area and the hostess pulled the curtain to give us privacy. Helen hitched her skirt up around her waist and I undid my zip and slid into her pussy. I reached around her hips and fingered her clit as I pumped into her. Helen's loud moans certainly nullified the hostess's efforts to give us privacy; everyone in the first-class cabin must have known what was happening. The hostess came inside the curtain and tried to muffle Helen's moans by putting her hand over her mouth, but really the damage was already done. After I came in Helen, we thanked the hostess, adjusted our clothes, and returned to our seats with big grins on our faces. Some of the passengers gave us the thumbs-up sign, others just grinned, no-one seemed put out.
I picked up my car at the airport, and drove home. As we climbed the two steps to the front door, Irmeli, my wife, opened it for us. She was stark naked. She grabbed Helen by both hands and pulled her inside. “So your the new trainee slut. I approve of your clothes, no bra, thin T-shirt, short skirt. I just hope that you are not wearing panties.” In reply, Helen lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing her shaved pussy, innocent of any covering. “I see dried cum on your inner thighs. I guess that you are now a member of the mile-high club. Am I right?” Helen grinned embarrassedly. “Don't be embarrassed Helen. I told you about Irmeli's generous attitudes to sex. You really can tell her everything. She will only enjoy hearing the details.” “Hey! No! Forget it! The last thing that I wanted to do was to embarrass you, Helen. Come and I will show you where to put your back-pack.” “Thanks.” “I hope you will be sleeping with Fred and me, but there is no spare storage space in our bedroom, so you will have to keep your things in the spare room. Also, if you need some private space you can use the spare room.” “Great! Thank you!” “I'll give you a moment here, but don't be long because I know that Fred is itching to open the champagne that I put in the fridge earlier.” “I'll be right out.”
Once alone Helen unpacked her backpack, then hesitated for a few minutes. Her mind made up she pulled her shirt off, undid her skirt and let it drop to the floor and stepped out of it. Finally she kicked off her thongs. She checked her naked body in the wall mirror, decided that she was not too bad, (actually she is stunning) then headed to the family room where Irmeli and I were waiting for her, with a bottle of champagne and three empty glasses.
“Wow! Fred! She is stunning. I see why you picked her up.” “He didn't pick me up. I picked him up. I couldn't afford a hotel room so I put on my fuck-me outfit and walked into the bar at the conference hotel. I looked for the best and least inhibited reaction, and it came from Fred. I went up to him and he offered me a drink. Even then I had to hint that we should have a second drink in his room before he realised what I really wanted.” “I didn't think that you would want to fuck with someone as old as me.” “When a girl is looking for a casual fuck an old bloke is great, provided he is well healed.” This last came from Irmeli.
The first bottle of champagne was quickly emptied as we chatted on like this. Helen realised halfway through the second bottle that she was feeling comfortable with this sexually liberated couple. “I want to congratulate you two on the way you live your marriage. It would never have occurred to me before now, that I could be comfortable sitting here naked, drinking champagne with the man I have been fucking for the past week, and his wife, also naked, who is not the slightest bit upset with him or me. I have just broken up with a jealous boyfriend who was furious if I smiled at another bloke.” “I hope now that you understand that you really can be quite open with both of us about anything sexual. So what did happen in the plane?” Fred and Helen took turns telling their versions of Helen's entry into the mile high club.
“Now, Irmeli! It is time that you told Helen and me about your adventure or adventures while I was away.” “Well! As you know, Fred, I was also wearing my fuck-me outfit that night.” “I described your outfit to Helen after we spoke by phone the next morning.” “
“Hey! I'm sorry Helen! You're here for practice in eating pussy, not for a detailed description of my every orgasm and taste of cum over the past few days.” “Well, my sex-crazed wife, we all know that talking about fucking is not as good as doing it, but for you it seems to come a close second.” “OK. Sure. Let's save some of the detail for later. Helen, how about you lying down and I'll get on top of you in a 69? Now, Fred, I want you to fuck me in my arsehole, please.”
This was how we welcomed Helen into our household. Apparently it did not shock her, or she enjoyed being shocked, because she is still living with us one year later. She is now very good at eating pussy, so my wife tells me. She was always good at sucking cock, right from when we first met. She joins in all our sex orgies with gusto. Also, from her university supervisors, who I know professionally, I hear that she is progressing very well towards a top degree.
The details of how Irmeli spent the week while Helen and I were fucking like rabbits will be next in 'Irmeli's week of fucking'. Enjoy.
