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A different perspective on 9/11.

Both of us, as we chatted, did have one of our hands out of sight of the camera; I can't speak for him, but mine was playing with Ms. Priss, under the computer desk. Agreeing to call him after Jim and I checked into our hotel in the downtown section of his city, we signed off.

The masturbation, for me, occurred after we had signed off and I had gone to bed, thinking about the possibilities.

When Jim came home, the next day, I was upfront with him about Greg and I's webcam chat of last night. He was pleased that I seemed to be fully on-board with the upcoming weekend.

That night, Jim and I had a very memorable oral session, pleasing us both, immensely.

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We called Greg, after checking in, setting up a time for him to meet us downstairs in the hotel's lounge. As I prepared for the evening, I was a bit a-flutter with excitement, truth be told.

Greg was 31 and quite attractive, more so in person, than in pictures or on the webcam. He is single now, divorced with no children, and an IT manager for his firm. His conversational ability was exceptional and in person, just as on the computer, every bit a gentleman. He knew that Jim would be with us when 'the deal would be sealed', and was very comfortable with that, as well.

We settled into our drinks and conversation, letting the vibes settle down between us, falling into a comfortable zone very quickly with each other. He asked me to dance when the small Jazz combo began playing some very good, slow, Bluesy-type tunes, the kind that make you want to dance, you know?

He was a good dancer, easy to follow, nice to hold onto as we glided across the semi-crowded floor. His arousal, through his dress slacks, couldn't be hidden or ignored, and I leaned against his hard-on purposefully, enjoying the feel of his hardness against my body.

I danced with both Jim and Greg for about an hour or so, and as my last dance with Greg ended, I dropped my hand between us, giving his erection a tender squeeze, the heat from his cock penetrating through the pant material. He looked at me, smiled, and moved his own hand between us as he held mine from dancing, letting his fingers brush across my braless breasts, my erect nipple, a bit of a speed bump.

We walked back to the table holding hands, neither saying anything, just enjoying the moment. Jim smiled at us, and suggested that perhaps the three of us should go back to our room, actually a 'suite' with the bedroom separate from the common area. We were all drinking Scotch and water and had a bottle and ice in the room.

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The ride to our room in the elevator was a nice one, both Jim and Greg taking the opportunity to kiss me, both lustfully which I returned with equal passion. Jim volunteered to fix us all drinks while I changed into something a 'little' more comfortable.

Being on the thin side (5'8" & 115) I can pull off wearing skimpier clothes than can most women my age. My 'comfortable' outfit was very simple; a pair of running shorts, snug and tight to my butt, and a 'wife-beater's'-type shirt, both soft to the touch.

Jim sat in an armchair, facing the couch, a coffee table between us, while Greg sat on the couch with me. We talked for a short while, letting the Scotch work its magic on us, letting the mood take on its own life. Jim made sure that both Greg and I understood that we were free, at any time, to forget that he was even in the room; that we should take it from there.

He also made sure that Greg would be comfortable with him joining us in the bedroom or not, Jim hadn't made up his mind about that quite yet. Jim already knew that I was okay with him watching; been there, done that many times in our past.

With all of that out in the open, I started the ball rolling by leaning in to Greg and kissing him, my hand on the side of his face as our tongues found each other's, his hand finding the route to my breasts, as we kissed with increasing passion.

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