It never fails to amaze me the amazing inconsistency, if not down right hypocrisy, of women when it comes to their attitude to sex. Is this a consequence of their hormone balance? Apart from the woman in this true story, I know none who admit to being polygamous let alone participate in group sex. Although what follows is a true story, even though it happened over 30 years ago I have been obliged to change the names of the various characters to protect the names of those involved.
Menage a Trois

She was married with a two year old child and as far as I know, is still married to this day with two grown up children. Whilst over a period of five years of our friendship we were carnally acquainted none was more bizarre than the circumstances of our first sexual encounter.

Allow me to introduce the characters of this story. Jean Marie (JM) Renard was French, he lived and worked in what, at the time, was West Berlin. Dominique Lagrange was French, she too lived and worked in the same city. Likewise Dominque Lagrange, her husband, was French, he lived and worked in West Berlin. Finally came myself the author, Christopher Cross, who was British and spoke French. Although I lived in London, I worked so frequently in West Berlin that I part shared the rental of a flat on the Stephenstrasse belonging to Jean Marie in the Moabit area of the former German Capital.

The confusion caused by married persons in the same household required the use of special vocabulary in French. As I have said Dominque “lui” was married to Dominique “elle”. Dominique “lui” was engaged in the enciphering and deciphering of codes on behalf of the French authorities in the divided city. He talked little about his work although it clearly had a high security classification. Dominique “elle” worked part time in the Biblioteque Francais at the Economat, an establishment designated for the sale of produce to the French occupying forces. The Lagrange family lived close by in the Cite Joffre, a dedicated area of military and civilian personnel close to the airport at Berlin Tegel.

Strangely enough the link between the Lagrange family and Jean Marie came about as a consequence of the author, a wandering Englishman who was only an occasional resident. It just so happened that because of my work for the occupying allies, the Economat accepted my credentials as part of the occupying forces. For many years it had been possible to report to the Economat and buy all sorts of lovely French produce, wine and electronic goods at vastly reduced prices. As a consequence, it was not too long that after moving into Stephanstrasse Jean Marie began accompanying me to do some shopping.

At some point Jean Marie must have wandered into the Economat library where his eyes first fell on Dominque elle. The latter was small with short dark hair very French in her looks and superficially rather prim and proper. I only remember meeting Dominique "elle" on one occasion before the sequence of events I am about to relate. I remember being introduced by Jean Marie in the library on the occasion of a shopping spree. Some time later, not realising that the two of them were already having an affair, I was being driven by JM to Tegel, en route to London. In the vehicle I casually remarked to him how much I rather fancied her. There now took place a degree of misunderstanding since, whilst what I said was the truth, it was intended rhetorically. Not realising the significance of what I had said, Jean Marie proposed to let Dominique "elle" aware of my sentiments.

I did not return to Berlin for a couple of weeks. When I arrived in the flat, it had an air of recognition with regard to the placement of certain kitchen equipment which suggested that Jean Marie had not been home for several days. This was not a total surprise since JM's philanderings were legendary. Eventually we met at some point when he perchance remarked that he had spoken to Dominique “elle” and that she was in accord with “the idea.” What I had not still realised at this stage was that Dominique and Jean Marie's sexual proclivity was such that a menage a trois was in the offing.

It was, therefore, shortly afterwards that the two of us presented ourselves in the Cite Joffre for an evening chez Dominique “elle”. If the reader is wondering about the whereabouts of Dominique “lui” the answer is that latter was on a course in Paris.

In typical French fashion, following the bedtime of her son, the consummate boat was pushed out as wine flowed and a series of courses were duly presented by the excellent cuisine of the host. As the night wore on we relaxed into listening to a few records and a little dancing. Eventually, the penny dropped, as I found myself on my own as JM and Dominique disappeared into to bedroom. After only a short while however, Jean Marie appeared at the lounge door and indicated to me to join them in bed.

I got undressed and sneaked in between the sheets lying to Dominique’s left side. The lights had been turned low and before too long, my ears perceived a combination of moving springs and moans indication that copulation was taking place. As the apogee approached there was a gasp of male clamour as the creature to my right was inseminated by what I knew to be a particularly large male organ. This was my cue to start. I therefore rolled across, penis rigidly stood to attention, in order to make the French connection. Although I had been aware that the previous occupant was gifted with a particularly powerful thrust, I was unprepared for the abdominal power of the device which I now found gripped around my cock. Yes, not only was Dominique a most capable woman when it came to food, she evidently obtained took the same pride in the osmosis effect of the apparatus between her thighs to ensure that every guest felt at home. A premature ejaculation would not be appropriate in the circumstances.

Nevertheless, there was no way I was going to be able to compete with such sexual prowess. I decided to adopt the philosophy that, since rape was inevitable, I might as well enjoy it. Thus it was that I succumbed to power of Napoleonic might. Right on cue as I fell back from dominating Dominique, the victory celebrations began. It was as if the sound of The Marseilles had burst into life causing JM's enormous cock to come back to life for, once again, it thrust itself forward in an orgasm of festivity. Totally unfazed, Dominique took him on board and within a short space of time, the score was love 40. As my own recovery processes were unable to keep pace, the two proud males were forced into conceding game set and match to the lovely bitch now whose vagina had just been filled with three inseminations of fresh hot semen.

I had sexual intercourse with Dominique on a number of further occasions following this affair not least once in the back office in the library. Indeed I recall on that occasion her yelling “Parle en Anglais” as she got totally out of control prior to an intense orgasm. Her abdominal grip and timing have made her “en haut du” list of the best fucks I of my life None, however, was better than that single occasion when she ran riot in bed in that menage a trois.
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