Part One
My name is Teddy Watson. One of the longest and dearest friendships I had the pleasure of having was with Davor (Danny) Ivanov, who passed away recently. His ancestry was Bulgarian. Somehow his parents and grandparents managed, through bribes and influence, to leave that country shortly after the Second World War ended and relocate to Canada. Despite language and cultural barriers, Danny’s grandparents founded a very successful furniture store, a portion of it being chairs and tables personally crafted by Danny’s paternal grandpa who was a superb woodworker. The enterprise eventually expanded to half a dozen stores within a 50-mile radius of the original business. The Ivanovs never lacked for money.
Danny and I met on the first day of kindergarten in the autumn of 1969. We were classmates at the local elementary school, each of us having been born in 1964. While I was a bit of an introvert, Danny was a much more outgoing fellow. A handsome lad, he smiled and laughed a lot, made friends easily, and was naturally a popular boy. Nevertheless, I, quiet Teddy Watson, ended up being Danny’s best buddy. For some reason, Danny’s mother really took a shine to me. Maybe it was because I was not as bombastic as Danny was. Mrs. Ivanov often referred to me in her slightly broken English as “the son I never had.” I always laughed at that remark because it seemingly excluded Danny and his younger brother Boris, but she didn’t mean it that way at all. It was her way of lovingly saying she wished I had been her son, too! What a great compliment that was!
When we reached the age of 12, Danny became obsessed with the girls at our school. We did have some absolute beauties our age to admire. Danny was the first boy in our class to have a girlfriend. She was Vanessa Carruthers, who was notable a year earlier for being the only girl in the fifth grade who wore a brassiere. It was only natural that Danny would pursue busty Vanessa. “Only the best is good enough for me!” he’d jokingly state to me and the other boys. “Besides, I have to have my fun while I can. My time is limited.”
What Danny was referring to was a deep-rooted cultural tradition in his family: He would marry a girl of Bulgarian heritage who had been selected for him by his parents (and the bride’s parents, as well). When Danny was 10 years old, he was gently informed that his fiancée was a one-year-old girl named Meglena who lived 2,000 miles away in western Canada. When she turned 18, she would marry Danny despite neither participant knowing the other.
Danny was not unhappy about having no say in selecting his life partner. “That’s just the way things are done in my culture,” he explained the situation philosophically. “I’m 12 years old now. Meglena is three. That means I have 15 years to screw as many girls as possible before I marry my mystery girl. Then I get to screw her constantly until I die.”
In a way, I envied Danny. I honestly wished my parents could arrange my marriage, too! I liked the female shape as much as Danny did, but I was painfully shy around girls. I never knew what to say to them. Meanwhile, Danny seemed to be having the time of his life with one female classmate after another.
“Who’s your girlfriend this week?” I once kidded him when we were in the eighth grade.
“It’s Eve Myerson,” Danny replied. “She has fabulous boobs with great nipples for sucking.”
“Get out of here, Danny!” I said doubtfully with a laugh. “You haven’t seen Eve’s tits much less sucked on them.”
“I’ll prove it!” he informed me. “Eve has a mole on her left breast just above the areola. Go ask her if that’s the truth.”
“Danny, you know darn well I can’t say anything like that to a girl I barely know!” I stated. “I’d likely get slapped across the face and be suspended from school if I asked Eve if she had a mole on one of her tits.”
“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it, then!” Danny said with a huge grin on his face.
Part Two
Danny and I stayed very close as friends as we entered into adulthood. We both followed sports closely. We each became involved in various amateur sports as officials and executive members of local teams. Danny assumed a management role with his family’s furniture empire. I became an accountant. As scheduled, Danny married Meglena in 1991. Out of curiosity, he had traveled to her home in Alberta and introduced himself to her when he was 25 and she was 16. Danny didn’t say so for certain, but I think he was looking for a reason—any reason—to back out of the arranged marriage if he could. However, when he returned home, he was totally in favor of it.
“Teddy! I hit the jackpot!” he giddily told me over the phone not long after he got home. “Meglena is fantastic-looking, a real doll. Not only that, she’s smart and fun to be around.”
“In other words, she’s too good for you,” I deadpanned. “I bet she’s trying to figure out a way to break the engagement.”
Danny laughed at my comment and jokingly called me a few unpleasant names. Then I asked him, “Does she have a sister for me?” I, of course, was single and likely to remain that way because of my natural shyness around females. I had had perhaps half a dozen dates in my life. None of them worked out favorably.
“You’re half right,” he said. “She has a 13-year-old sister, who’s also a cutie, but she’s engaged to a 23-year-old in Vancouver—a guy she’s never met. Sorry, old buddy.”
Two years later I met Meglena at a social function that Danny’s folks held for the couple-to-be about a month before their wedding. Danny had not been exaggerating (which may have been a first in his life!): Meglena was gorgeous. At about 5’5”, she was a stunning, black-haired girl. Most obvious were her other prominent assets. Meglena had a fantastic figure, a very pretty face, and a welcoming aura about her. When I got a chance to speak to Danny alone for a few seconds, I congratulated him on his good fortune. “You lucky bastard!” I stated. “You did hit the jackpot. I’m jealous!”
“Yes, I know it,” he noted firmly. “Thanks for confirming it, though. Now stay far away from Meglena. I don’t trust you being around her.”
I was stunned for a second. Then Danny said, “Good heavens, Teddy! I’m kidding. You’re about the only guy here I’d trust around my bride-to-be.”
That remark was meant as a compliment, but I could have taken it as an insult to my manhood. Then I realized I didn’t have much of a history with the opposite sex, so Danny was essentially correct: I was harmless as a potential womanizer.
The wedding occurred as scheduled. The reception was easily the most luxurious I had ever attended in my life. Danny and Meglena were all smiles as they left for Bermuda on their honeymoon trip. Nine months and two days later, Danny’s daughter was born. Her parents named her Tanya. Two-and-a-half years later, Tanya had a little sister to play with as Meglena—who preferred to simply be called Meg—gave birth to Sarah. Both of Danny’s little girls were beautiful. I told him they had acquired his wife’s genes—not his. Danny cussed me out and laughed at the same time.
Part Three
The accident occurred one July night in 1998 when Danny was 34. He and I had been at an executive meeting for the local amateur hockey team. I had been acclaimed as the treasurer. Danny had been appointed to a newly created role as the club’s public-relations director. It was a perfect fit. Everybody was attracted to Danny’s winning personality. The hockey team couldn’t have chosen someone who was better for the job. Danny had picked me up in his car to take me to the meeting that night. He dropped me off at my home when it ended and then proceeded to his own house at the opposite end of town. He didn’t get there.
About five blocks from Danny’s home, the young driver of a moving van he had just rented, unfamiliar with its controls, backed out of his driveway at a high speed. He had not seen Danny’s car approaching. Even if he had, his difficulty in figuring out how to brake swiftly was the main issue. Danny’s small car was T-boned. It rolled over several times and came to a stop, upside down, against a maple tree in someone’s front lawn. Danny was likely going too fast himself. I hated to drive, so as a frequent passenger in his car, I knew Danny often sped. Danny survived the crash, but among his injuries were two badly broken legs. There was some doubt as to whether Danny would ever walk again.
Danny was a fighter, though. Plenty of therapy and an extensive exercise program made Danny mobile again. In about two years, he was back to his normal self, but Danny’s gait had changed. He was slightly gimpy in both legs. He kept his sense of humor, though, telling friends he was going to fight the ticket he received for illegally parking his car in someone’s front lawn.
Throughout this ordeal, Meglena proved to be a magnificent wife, catering to Danny constantly and doing a lot of the management work for the furniture company when Danny was not able to travel. I was thoroughly impressed. I often showed up at the house to mind Danny’s two daughters. I became “Uncle Teddy” to them.
Not long after Danny was able to return to work—and drive again—I and a few other friends of the family were invited to Danny and Meg’s house one evening for a special thank-you dinner for helping them out during difficult times. Meg quietly asked me to be the last one to leave as she and Danny had something to say to me privately. Once Danny’s parents had gone out the door, Meg poured us huge cups of coffee and put out a plate of cookies. Their two girls, now aged seven and five, were in bed. I could tell something big was afoot because garrulous Danny Ivanov was having trouble starting a conversation with me. That had never happened before.
Finally, Meg broke the thick ice of silence. “Teddy,” she said sweetly. “You are a special person to us. You’ve helped us tremendously during these past two years. We can’t thank you enough.”
I tried to say I was just being a good friend, but neither Danny nor Meg was having any part of that. “No, Teddy,” Meg continued. “You went far and above the call of friendship. You were always offering help, dropping by the house, babysitting the girls, taking them places when we couldn’t...” Meg became emotional, rose from her chair and hugged me warmly. She even kissed me on both cheeks.
I attempted to laugh it off. “Meg, If I knew you were going to kiss me, I would have been even more helpful than what I was. Who knows where it would have led?”
I expected the usual, light-hearted cussing out from Danny, but it wasn’t forthcoming. Instead, there were serious expressions on the faces of both Danny and Meg.
Danny finally spoke. He said to me, “You’re not far off, my good friend, about why we asked you to linger after everyone else had left the party.”
“I don’t quite understand,” I said.
Danny paused for a moment and stated, “Okay, I’ll spell it out for you, Teddy. As you are undoubtedly aware, one of the great things about being married to Meg is having such a sexy woman as a bedmate.”
“Yeah, that’s not exactly a hardship!” I interjected. “I got that idea when your first daughter was born nine months after your wedding!”
Again, Danny didn’t laugh at my comment as he normally would. He merely continued with his monologue.
“There is now an unfortunate reality in my life since my accident happened. Along with the broken bones I suffered, there was also some nerve damage below my waist. In layman’s terms, I’ve become impotent. I can’t rise to the occasion, if you get my drift. It is unlikely I ever will again.”
I then became serious myself. I quickly stated, “Oh, that’s terrible, Danny, just awful. I’m so sorry for you!” Then I quickly added the comforting truth, “I guess it was a good thing that you had two children early in your marriage.”
“Yes, that is very true, Teddy. I’ve resigned myself to my fate—but it is horribly unfair for Meg. She’s a normal healthy female in her mid-twenties. We men don’t think about it often, but women have lusty desires, too. Unfortunately, I’m not in a position to provide my sexual services to her anymore. God knows I want to be able to function in bed like a normal male in his thirties, but despite my best efforts, I can’t. There are no surgeries or medicines or therapies that can repair the nerve damage I have down there. I’m useless as a lover now—absolutely useless.”
Meg chimed in, “That’s not entirely true, Teddy. Danny and I can still cuddle and kiss and hug and do other things to show our affection to one another, just not the sex act.”
I nodded to show I understood what she meant. Then there was a long, awkward pause in the conversation.
“This is quite a serious issue to us, Teddy,” Danny told me.
“Yes, I can see that by your grim expressions,” I replied.
Danny continued, “When I was diagnosed as incurably impotent, I immediately told Meg she could divorce me if she wished; I wouldn’t contest it at all.” Then Danny began to tear up. He added, “She wouldn’t consider it. For some reason she loves me too much to divorce me—despite what’s happened.”
Both Meg and Danny had tears flowing when Meg kissed him fondly.
Danny took his time to compose himself. Then he said something totally unexpected: "After a lot of deliberation, Teddy, we've jointly decided to let you have sexual relations with Meg in place of me. We figured it was the best possible solution—and it is something of a reward for you helping us the past two years."
I was flabbergasted by this news. Nevertheless, I was also delighted by it. "So, this arrangement is okay...with both of you?" I asked with a note of incredulity in my voice.
Meg jumped in. "Teddy, this was really Danny's idea. He didn't want me to have to forfeit my sex life because of his injury. That's how amazingly thoughtful he was. Besides, I've grown to like you very much as a friend of the family. Let's just say we're taking our friendship to another level."
I was lost for words for a moment or two. Then I stated, "When I first met you, Meg, I told Danny that he had won the lottery, or something along those lines. Now I feel that I’m a lottery winner, too!"
"There are a couple of conditions attached to this, though," Danny said to me after a long sip of his coffee.
"I figured there had to be!" I chirped.
Danny explained, "First, this unusual arrangement should not be misconstrued as Meg having an extramarital affair. It's just you performing a biological service for her instead of me, Teddy."
"You certainly know how to kill a romance, Danny!" I said. "But I'm okay with the idea of sex without romance. There’s likely a great deal of that in the world."
Then Danny said, "The second condition is that I get to watch what you two are doing."
That startled me. "Really?" I asked. "I thought you would go out of your way to not see this happening. I’m thinking it would bother you on some level."
"Well, maybe that will be the case eventually," Danny said, "but I certainly want to observe this first romp you have with my spouse. After all, Meg is my wife and I feel very protective about her."
It occurred to me that Danny had referred to a ‘first romp’. I felt it necessary to clarify something. "So, this isn't just a onetime thing, Danny?" I asked sheepishly.
"No, the arrangement will last as long as you and Meg want it to last. My disability—for lack of a better term—is permanent. Meg understandably desires sex. Your job is to provide it for as long as she wants to have you as a sex partner."
I looked at Meg for confirmation that what Danny was telling me was accurate. She nodded then said rather casually, "That’s about the size of it, Teddy. That's the offer: Sex with me whenever it is convenient for the two of us to get together. You don't have to decide right away. You can think about it for a couple of days, if you prefer."
I quickly gave my answer. "I don't need to think about this at all. How can I possibly say no to this? Count me in!"
"Somehow I knew in my heart that's what your answer would be, Teddy!" Danny said to me with a certain degree of resignation.
"So, when do you want to begin, Meg?" I asked with obvious eagerness in my voice.
Meg coyly replied, "You know the old saying, Teddy: ‘There's no time like the present!’ Do you have anything important scheduled for the rest of this evening, or are you free to stick around here for some wonderful sex?"
"If I did have anything scheduled, I'd immediately cancel it!" I joked. "No, Meg. Seriously, I have nothing to do and nowhere else to go tonight."
"You do now!" Meg stated with a sexy smile.
I could hardly wait to get started.
Part Four
I did not have to wait long. Meg and I raced upstairs to the bedroom. Danny hobbled there, too, well behind us, as quickly as his shaky legs could take him. Upon arriving, Danny eventually sat in a chair five feet from the bed in front of a large closet. “You two go about your business as if I weren’t even here,” he instructed. “Pay no attention to me. I won’t say a word!”
I thought that would be plainly impossible, but then I saw Meg start to disrobe and I was transfixed by her obvious beauty. Danny’s presence in the bedroom totally vanished from my thoughts. Meg was already down to her undergarments before I even removed my eyeglasses and wristwatch. I had unbuttoned my shirt at the same time Meg removed her brassiere and sexily revealed her prominent breasts to me. They were marvelous! She cutely waved her bra at me and then dropped it to the floor. I scrambled to catch up with her, but I nearly tripped while discarding my trousers. By the time I was naked, Meg was lying in the middle of the bed with her torso propped up by several pillows. She cupped her luscious jugs with her hands and asked me, “Do you like these, Teddy? I hope so!”
I just chortled for a second or two, then I jumped onto the bed and swiftly moved beside her. I briefly caressed Meg’s treasured tits with both hands before we kissed. For what was supposed to be a non-romantic encounter, it was a very affectionate beginning.
Meg whispered in my ear, “I’ve never had sex with any other man than Danny.”
“Lucky me!” I whispered in return. I took her statement to mean it had been more than two years since the last time Meg had been fucked. No wonder Meg was so eager to begin our arrangement that very night!
I was really going to enjoy this opportunity as I had quietly admired Meg’s good looks from the first moment I saw her nine years earlier. I began kissing every part of her body starting at her forehead and slowly—very slowly—moving downward. Meg seemed to like the sensation when I kissed her neck, so I lingered there for a while. After all, my job was essentially to please her. Any pleasure I got—and it was considerable—was merely a happy byproduct of the agreement.
When I finally moved down to her boobs, I had a field day licking and sucking on them while my hands manipulated them in all sorts of directions. I spent at least ten minutes enjoying her prominent pair.
Meg had a cute navel, too, so I lingered to plant numerous kisses on it and around it. Meg laughed. “Now this is something different,” she said loud enough for Danny to hear her. Then I moved down to her vagina.
I intended to please Meg in every possible way. It was a hairy sex organ, but that mattered little to me. I repeatedly licked her pussy while stimulating her clit with my right hand. She was squirming and squealing with great joy as she approached an orgasm. A sizable wet spot soon appeared on the bed just seconds after Meg let out a pleasure-filled moan that I was afraid her young daughters might be able to hear in their bedrooms down the hallway.
Of course, I was getting turned on just by turning Meg on. I figured while she was in the throes of rapture, I should get a blowjob out of it. I moved back up the bed and placed my very stiff penis by her lips. Without hesitation, Meg took its head into her mouth and began to lick it. I was tempted to see what expression my longtime friend had while his beloved spouse orally stimulated my rod, but I decided to ignore him, as he had advised. I gave three or four thrusts before declaring, “I’ll come in your mouth if this lasts much longer, Meg!” I removed my dick from her mouth and moved it to the location on Meg’s lower abdomen where Nature intended it to go.
Meg was still in the rapturous wake of her orgasm when I mounted her. I think I surprised her by penetrating her vagina as quickly as I did. I wondered if I was actually supposed to launch a cum shot inside her, but since I wasn’t specifically told to do so, I decided to pull out when that critical time came. It came about three minutes later. When I pulled out, Meg had grabbed my shaft and gave me a 10-second hand job until I ejaculated. It was a gusher. Sperm flew from my penis, landing all over Meg, from the top of her pussy to the hollow of her neck. It was the sexiest sight I had ever seen in my life.
“Wonderful!” Meg declared.
“Fantastic!” I insisted. Then I positioned myself atop her and we kissed passionately until there was as much of my goo on my own chest as there was on Meg’s. When our lips finally separated, I heard slow clapping coming from Danny.
“Well done, you two,” he congratulated us with apparent sincerity. “Can you believe I couldn’t get hard watching your steamy, live sex show? Now I know for a fact that I’m incurably infertile.”
Now I better understood why Danny wanted to be a spectator.
Meg and I continued to cuddle long after our screwing had concluded. Meanwhile, Danny said I had done an admirable job replacing him as his wife’s lover. “You look like you have some sexual experience, Teddy. Frankly, I wasn’t sure if you had any at all.”
Meg was about to chastise Danny for making such a comment, but I told her it was alright. “He had every right to be doubtful about my sexual past, Meg. To the best of my knowledge, I’ve bedded just four females before tonight’s romp.
“Oh, yeah?” said Danny. “Who were they?”
“Danny, my pal, I’m not one to kiss and tell,” I said, “but I can confirm you were absolutely right back in the eighth grade when you declared that Eve Myerson had a mole on her breast. I found out first-hand that she definitely does!”