It was on my birthday, as we were dressing to go out to dinner, that my wife Anna decided, for some reason I never have understood, to tell me about her sex life before we met. It was a lurid tale, but luckily for her I am not a jealous guy.When Anna (not her real name) turned sixteen, she and her friend Jean decided they were sick of being virgins, especially since all their friends at the large public high school they attended seemed to be getting it regularly. Neither of them had a boyfriend, so on a Friday night they got out their phony ID's, Jean borrowed her clueless parents’ car, and they went out to get laid. They drove across town to a beer club called The Warehouse. It took them a few minutes of insisting that their ID's were real and flirting with the bouncer to get in. The place was pretty full, but there was a table for two down front by the speakers. So they bought some beer and sat down, about fifteen feet from the band.They were a mediocre local rock group with two. Henry was a 40-ish slightly overweight man that stood just over five-seven. He ran one of the Aviation Services at Lake Hood Seaplane Base, and made good money. Being single, he didn't have a family to support, but Ember and Cameron "helped him spend it."Cameron had gotten in trouble once for letting Henry touch her private areas during a private dance and had to forfeit her pay for the night as a "fine". After that the two had just made a show of fingering themselves and then putting two fingers in his mouth while he gratefully sucked them clean, while the other hand was getting ready to replace the first hand when he finished. Both girls had given themselves orgasms while doing this with him before and they loved it when the "wet spot" appeared on his pants.They had come to trust Henry, and in fact had done two "private shows" for him outside of work for a cool thousand bucks they didn't split with the club. The two girls would take turns giving him a hand job and squatting on his.
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