“I’m sorry to have to tell you that the use of your legs will take months of physiotherapy to recover, and it is possible that you may never regain the physical aspect of marital intimacy!”
My blood ran cold as I heard the surgeon explaining my husband’s prognosis and future physical prospects. Then, more than ever, I despised his reluctance to use the seat belt on long car journeys, as he might well have escaped serious injury, as I had, by belting up at the start of the excursion. All that is as well maybe, but there we both were listening to the surgeon’s miserable prophecies.
“Does that mean we can never make love again?” I asked in trepidation, fearing the possible reply.
“As my father used to say” he replied “there are more ways than one to skin a cat!” He paused and gave a sympathetic smile “but to answer you’re the question you meant to ask, yes, there is that possibility that normal physical penetration sex will never again be a reality for the two of you”.

I sat looking at my husband Richard in the hospitable bed he had already been occupying for four weeks, with months of convalescence already planned by the hospital authorities. I was thirty four years old! Not that old that I didn’t hate the thought of years without proper intimate love-making with the husband that I adored. Sex with Richard had been so wonderful and satisfying in the three years of our marriage. A second marriage for both of us that had promised so much following our previous unhappy marital dalliance with unsuitable spouses. I had previously been married to a man who was jealousy incarnate! A man who couldn’t bear the thought of any other man seeing me in a state of undress, so much so that he forced me to give up the job I loved as an art school model. Imagining always that I was having affairs with either students or teachers as they saw me naked so often.

Nothing could have been further from the truth, as I was totally committed to my marriage and would never have contemplated accepting any of the many offers I had, despite my husband’s unreasonable jealousy. Richard on the other hand proved to be totally opposite to my previous spouse, and actually encouraged me to wear sexy clothes and show off my body. He actually had a special topless dress made for me, that completely exposed both of my breasts, in the hope that I would have the courage and daring to wear it at a dance. It was at the holiday hotel we had been leaving on that fateful return trip which resulted in Richard‘s terrible injuries, following four wonderful days vacation, that I finally plucked up courage to wear it on the last evening. Well, to be honest, I had a pashmina shawl around my shoulders and covering my breasts until the final hour of the dance. It was only then that the three white wines I had drunk gave me the courage to discard the pashmina and openly expose my bare breasts.

“You should have rouged your nipples darling!” Richard chuckled, delighted that I had at last flashed.
I glanced down and smiled. Yes, they were indeed in need of some colour to enhance them.
“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” came the first of many invitations I had during the following sixty minutes. There were, of course, several snide and snotty remarks from nearby tables, always I may add from the aged variety of my own sex! Richard passed off each negative observation with
“Take no notice sweetheart, you look gorgeous – your tits do too!” and laughed it off wonderfully.
He seemed to enjoy me, or more probably my bare boobs, being the centre of attention, and warned me each time a prospective dancing partner approached us.
“Here’s another one Tania, stomach in and chest out love, show ‘em off!”.

“Show them off I certainly had done and the lack of rouged nipples hadn’t detracted from my popularity, with me returning to my table after each musical number, to enable as many men as possible the opportunity to dance with the only topless female in the place. That is something else I may explain. Many folks have enquired why I am not a nudist or sun club member. The reason being, and I am totally honest about this, if I am going to expose any part of my body I want to be the ONLY female around, so that ALL eyes are on me alone! That’s why I do not frequent nudist beaches and the like – too much competition for a thirty nine year old woman from pert breasted twenty year olds! Fortunately my lovely hubby was au fait with all this and loved me ‘exposing’ myself almost as much as I did.

The memory of our enjoyment of my topless dancing was brought to a sudden tragic end when Richard swerved to avoid a cyclist running a red light and ended up smashing into a lorry head on. Fortunately no-one was killed and only my husband was badly injured by not wearing the aforementioned safety belt. Paramedics were soon on the scene and we were rushed to a local hospital where, I since discovered, Richard’s life was in the balance for several days. Luckily the dedication of the hospital nurses and doctors prevented a fatal end to our holiday.
So, there I was listening to the surgeon explaining the forthcoming lack of sexual nuptials for yours truly as well as for my poor husband. Richard’s mind had already been working overtime for a satisfactory solution to our future lack of coital activities. It was no secret that I have a very high libido, with me almost demanding love-making EVERY day, and several times on some days when I was particularly randy. Richard always said, and I apologise for the language, that I had an “insatiable cunt!”. The poor man often struggled to keep up with my sexual demands and was often very relieved to see me resort to one of the many vibrators and dildos he had bought me – to bring myself to an almost satisfactory sexual fruition. “Almost” satisfactory I may add, as I naturally preferred to have a mutual orgasm with my husband ejaculating inside me as I climaxed.

With this knowledge of my sexual prowess in the forefront of his mind Richard was in torment realising his inability to continue the situation as it had been. He worried that I may leave him for sexual pastures anew! He need not have worried. I loved and still love him deeply, and would never have considered life without him. It is a common expression nowadays, but he is genuinely my rock.
I could not contemplate life without him, even if it meant having a dildo as the sexual replacement for my “insatiable cunt” until the day I die. The many long hours in the hospital bed gave Richard time to think of a solution – and what a solution it turned out to be!.

I have, until now, never mentioned how Richard and I originally met. It was at our local dancing school Saturday dance. Richard was there for the first time with his best friend Steve. I naturally noticed them as they entered – fresh good looking meat for a divorced female urgently looking for a replacement. I have already explained my high libido, and several moths abstinence was playing havoc with my bubbly personality, with every eligible male enjoying my total objective judgement. Richard and Steve both passed the Tania visual test, and either one could have been the lucky guy to capture my heart. Richard turned out to be the lucky one as he was a better dancer than Steve, and dancing was my forte, although Steve jived better than Richard, but lacked the polish of Richard’s ballroom dancing. They were, and still am, total best friends and as close as any twins could be, and I was in absolute confusion as to which one I would finally end up with. The dancing was the ultimate decision maker!

Richard and I were married three months later following a hectic courtship in which we proved to be excellent mutual lovers, with Richard proving to be almost as insatiable as yours truly. Steve was naturally the best man. The honeymoon on the Isle of Wight was electric! We hardly left the room for the four days we were there and actually had a further holiday at the same resort four months later in order to see something of the beautiful island. Richard’s easy going nature and acceptance of others seeing me under dressed was revealed on the second morning when the breakfast waiter walked in on me as I came out of the shower – I was obviously totally naked! My previous employment as an art school model prevented me from being shocked or attempting to cover up, and Richard watched from the bed as I took the tray from the waiter, placed it beside Richard on the bed, and then went to my hand bag to give the waiter a one pound tip – with everything being done in my total nudity! My new husband was smiling as the waiter left, obviously having completely enjoyed my naked movements in front of the stranger.

We returned from the honeymoon to a house we had purchased from the sales proceeds of our two houses, and naturally moved upmarket into a spacious four bed roomed house with a games room with pool table, table tennis table and dart board. We also had a double garage and a one acre landscaped garden. Best friend Steve came round the first night of our return and found me naked on the lounge sofa as he entered the room.
“Now that is what I call a lovely greeting!” Steve laughed as he saw the naked me “You jammy bastard!” he quipped to Richard “That could have been mine if my quickstep had been better!”.
“Well it bloody wasn’t, and she is mine! You can look but don’t touch old boy!”.
And “look” Steve certainly did in the forthcoming months, as I was always, and still am, naked about the house, and I dress for no-one in my own home! Steve has proved to be a lovely friend to both of us and I often pose for his camera, with Richard watching and advising as to different poses.

It therefore seemed natural that following his deliberations in the hospital bed that Richard should decided that Steve would be the one to satisfy my sexual cravings following the outcome of the car crash.
“Are you sure mate?” Steve questioned his friend’s mentality at sharing me in that way.
“I can’t allow Tania to go without sex because of my stupidity Steve – yes mate, I am sure!”.
“But you always told me to “look” but don’t touch!”.
“That was before the crash Steve, things are vastly different now. Please do as I suggest but there is one special proviso which you may not like, but something I will insist on – that I watch each time!”.
Steve considered the proviso carefully before replying.
“No problem mate – you’ve seen me naked often enough at the sauna – it’s a deal!”.

Steve was over the moon at the prospect of fucking me regularly, and completely understood Richard’s desire to watch as we fucked. I was totally in favour of my husband watching us as he had always told me that the best part of love making for him was in giving me pleasure, and seeing the joyous look on my face as I climaxed. This he could still do with another man performing the necessary physical actions of which he was unable. . Also, having an “insatiable cunt” convinced me that Richard’s solution was the best available. Steve called round every night and we fucked on the sofa as Richard watched with one eye on the television and his other eye on our naked bodies cavorting in total penetrable and fantastically enjoyable sex. There were occasions when Richard suggested a position in which we should fuck. Missionary was favourite as he loved to see us kiss as we had sex, with doggy being a close second, with Steve pulling hard on my breasts to get as deep inside me as humanly possible.

Twelve months ago, after Steve and I had been having regular sex most evenings for almost four years, Richard attended his regular hospital check up. Following extensive tests it was decided to perform another small operation which they hoped would bring some life to Richard’s genitals. Imagine my delight when, together with drugs, my husband began to regain some limited state of erection. We found he was able to perform satisfactorily once or twice a week. This was music to my ears! I naturally assumed that Steve would no longer be required to satisfy me but Richard, as thoughtful as ever, considered it would be unfair to deprive his best friend of the sex he had been enjoying for four years. Two days a week were set aside for Richard and me to make love, with Steve continuing to have me on the remaining five days.

Many people may think badly of me enjoying two men in my marriage. But considering what the situation would have been without Steve’s help after the crash, it really doesn’t bear thinking about.
Although I said at first that I could use a vibrator and dildo to satisfy myself, I now know that this wouldn’t have worked with my high libido. Steve saved our marriage! A marriage that I still cherish although there are two men in it now – a darling thoughtful husband and a loyal helpful friend.

I am no longer being fucked!

I am making love to my two handsome lovers!

Considering everything – things couldn’t be much better.

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