If I had to pick an ideal length of time between our “dates” with Mike and Don I’d be hard pressed to come up with an answer. Daily would be too often because then it would feel like I’m not married to Dee myself, but sometimes even once a week doesn’t seem often enough especially when I'm climbing the walls to suck some cock. It all depends on mood in the end, I suppose. If we’re both feeling good without extra aches and pains and worries there doesn’t seem to be a feeling of too often when we see the guys. When life throws us a steady series of curves, though, sometimes even that week sneaks up awfully fast and though both of the guys totally understand if we need to postpone a date, we hate to do it.
No matter how long I pen this blog there are elements of sharing Dee that I’ll never adequately express in my words. Hell, for most of you I’ve probably not even gotten beyond convincing you that I’m not completely off my rocker for doing it in the first place. There is something, though, so alive in me, so vibrant when I’m watching my dear wife make love with her heart and soul and body to one of her lovers - something that is in essence ineffable. I know that Dee herself as well as Mike and Don feel it too, though they can no better form it into sentences than I can. At this point in my life I can’t imagine being without a regular hit of that inexpressible feeling. It’s like an addictive drug, and when I get my fix all’s good and right with the world.
Crazy, eh? Remember... I never claimed to be normal. I don't think I'd want to be.