1. You Can Go Home Again


    Date: 9/16/2015, Categories: First Time, Group Sex, Voyeur, Author: danorth, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    and not a husband. Stacey told me in no uncertain terms that my role in this first “experiment” was to observe and “take care of your own needs after I am done.” She also admitted that she had met Pam twice before this encounter and she thought there was something special between them and blamed me for ruining a good thing. The fact that her bisexual friend enjoyed going both ways pissed her off beyond reason. Our marriage hit the sk**s shortly after and once the arguing started I was of course the root of all our problems, in and out of bed. The divorce was ugly, every argument about money and stuff was rooted in Stacey’s dissatisfaction with the sexual encounter with Pam and I was the reason it all went bad. I don’t think Stacey saw Pam again, and quite honestly I had not looked back, if she found another lover, man or woman, I didn’t know about it and didn’t want to know. “Why can’t life be simple,” I mumbled to myself taking another swig of beer, “like when I was a k** in this back yard.” It was a simple life when I grew up here, stay in the yard, no feet on the rails of the deck, and no back talk were basic rules that we simple to understand. But then I realized that you really can’t go back, I wasn’t a k** anymore with parents to run interference for me. As I looked around the yard I remembered those days when I was just a k** without a care in the world, this yard was my kingdom, but I wanted more than this small town so when I left for college I left for good. I did ...
    visit from time to time, but not as often as I should have, I did regret that, but my c***dhood friend who was a girl, had taken a job far away as well so other than my parents there was little for me in this small town. But growing up here did seem simple, everything was black and white, right or wrong, it didn’t seem like there were any shades of gray, like the ugly affair with Stacey and Pam. I shivered with the cool late afternoon breeze, or was it a reaction to the rejection I felt over an affair that was not of my making? As I looked around the back yard my eyes focused on the old maple tree that stood guard near the back fence. It was huge, “Hell it was huge when I was a k**,” I thought to myself, which is ironic. As a c***d everything seemed bigger than life and when we return the size doesn’t measure up. But in this case the physical size of the tree was massive. I looked up and was shocked to see remnants of the old tree house still clinging to the large branches of the tree. My dad had told me he was going to tear it all out before he listed the property; I guess he decided against it. That tree fort was my fortress, now it was not much more than a floor and a partial wall guarding the open side to the north. Taking another drink of beer my mind wandered back over 30 years, a much simpler time indeed. The fort had walls and a roof and a guy could hide out there and no one would know I was up there. In my early days in the tree house I would spend hours hiding out ...
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