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Mona Lisa

By: SonofCallicious



I have not abandoned Coppernicous. I plan to finish Part 5 in the near future, whenever I can find time away from work. While listening to the radio one day, the idea for this short tale came to me; I had to get it down right away before I lost the idea. I hope you enjoy.

 As always, comments and emails are most welcomed. I reply to all emails that have a return address.

 Thanks to Grand Teton for making this readable.






 The carpet did little to pad my backside as I lay on the floor, blindfolded thoroughly, but I was not about to complain as my wee dickie stood straight in the air anticipating what was to come.

My mates, Tommy and Arthur, and I had talked for months about our wives, how we had some of the hottest wives around, and how fortunate indeed each of us was. Of course, we each wondered how sex with the other women would be.

Frequently we and our wives would get together for a barbeque and swim, or dinner and cards, or we would go out on the town for an evening. We got on well. The girls became fast friends and frequently shopped together or did whatever women do when their men aren't around. The really amazing thing was their similarity in size and shape, so that often they borrowed or shared each other's clothes. We often would joke when we saw one of the other wives wearing our wife's dress that we weren't sure who we were taking home with us for the night. 

The idea of swapping came up more than a few times among us guys, but the women always quelled it without even considering the idea. Arthur's thirtieth birthday party changed matters, though, much to our surprise.

More wine had been consumed that evening than was usual, giving the girls an excuse for their change in mind, but I believe it had been planned well beforehand.

Liz, Arthur's wife, brought up the idea as the party was winding down after dinner.

"Arthur has been after me, as I know you other blokes have been at your wives, about doing some sort of a swap or group sex thing, and we girls have an idea to put the whole concept to a conclusion."

Of course, Tommy and I perked up and listened carefully.

"Here's how it will work, if we finally agree to go along with you. Helen"—that's Tommy's wife—"suggested next month, when we get together at their house for a barbeque and swim, but you blokes have to agree to abide by our rules. It's either all or none, and it's our way, or none."

We three guys looked at each other and immediately all nodded in agreement. I should have known there was a big catch, or Phoebe would never go along. I know she has always fancied Tommy, but always knew she was faithful and was not the type to go running round.

So many times I returned home from work, only to find Phoebe on the telephone with either Helen or Liz, giggling and laughing, but she would ring off right away, saying, "Richard is home, I'd better see to him." She never would say what they talked about, either. All I would get is a Mona Lisa smile and a subject change.

Finally the fateful night was at hand and Phoebe and I made the trek over to Tommy and Helen's home in the car. We could have easily walked it. It is less than two blocks, but Phoebe insisted we drive so that she would not have to carry a little overnight bag with her for people to see.

It was a rare evening, in that it was warm enough to really enjoy the pool. So often the sky would be overcast and the air a bit nippy to enjoy lounging around in our bathing kit, but today was a pleasantly warm, sunny day, with just enough of a breeze to keep one cool in the sun. The six of us played about for a bit in the water, with us lads enjoying the view of the women each wearing a small two piece bathing suit, which in itself was quite unusual, for Liz was a bit more modest than the other two and normally wore a one-piece with a little skirt. Tommy and I both made it a point to compliment her on her good looks, and gained a nice blush in return. 

Nothing overt or untoward happened in the water, although I must say there was more physical contact amongst us than was normal, with brushes of arms or legs, and there was a heightened sense of anticipation in the joking and comments. Flirting has always been somewhat normal amongst us, but tonight it seemed a bit more directed, though nobody was blatant at all.

Dinner time came and we all got out of the water and toweled off, but before anyone went into the house to dress Helen suggested we all remain in our bathing togs. "After all, there is no point in changing our clothing when it won't stay on long anyway, now is there?"

We blokes all raised our eyebrows at this comment, but we certainly were not in disagreement with the idea. Seeing the girls in their bathing suits was a treat by itself, especially as it had started to cool down a little, and the breeze caused their nipples to poke out.

Tommy got some sausages going on the grill and it wasn't long before we were all ready to eat. The girls sipped at white wine, while we men each had a Guinness in front of us. Liz, in her unaccustomed two-piece, caught my eye frequently, and she must have availed herself of more than one glass prior to the evening to be as comfortable as she appeared to be.

When we had all eaten our fill and had had a couple of beers or glasses of wine, Helen pushed her plate back and picked up an empty bowl. She set it in the middle of the table, then passed a small slip of paper and a pen to each of us men. "Right, now this is how this is going to work. You will each write your name on your piece of paper, then you will fold it carefully in half and drop it into the bowl. We will each draw a name. We girls have agreed we will never reveal to you men whose name we have drawn, because we don't want any jealousy to spoil our friendships. Can you blokes agree there will be no hard feelings or repercussions after this evening?"

We all looked at each other and nodded.

"Then this is how it will work. We will do a sort of 'Blind Man's Bluff,' except you will not be trying to find us. Each of you will be blindfolded, and you will not know who your partner is."

At our looks of surprise Helen held up a hand before any of us could speak.

"We agree to participate only under these circumstances. If you don't agree, then everything is off."

Of course, we guys quickly assented. After all, this was something we had hoped for, for so long, now. Especially in this past month as we speculated as to what the women had in mind.

Phoebe went into the house and returned with the little overnight bag she had brought along. I was surprised when she opened it to find she had cotton balls, tape, and strips of dark fabric inside. She divided the materiel into three piles, and handed one each to the other ladies.

The girls came to their own husbands and had us each close our eyes before taping the cotton balls over our eyelids so that even if we tried to open our eyes we would be unable to do so. Then the black cloth was carefully tied around our heads over our eyes to rule out any possible peeking. It also served to block out any light penetration, leaving us as near to blindness as could be done without doing harm.

"Right. Now we will lead you into the den, where Liz and I have prepared pallets on the floor. When we arrive there, you blokes will remove your trunks for the next phase of the evening's entertainment."

"Wait a minute!" Tommy interrupted. "We are all going to be in there naked for you to see us, but we don't get to see you?"

"That's the way it works. It's this way or no way, but I think you'll enjoy yourself. After all, it is you who have been pushing us to do something like this."

"I just didn't think it was going to be this kind of a thing, though. I don't know that I like the idea of you girls all getting a look at me naked."

"Now you get an idea what we girls feel like when some bloke is eyeing us all the time. Are you in or not?"

I wasn't certain I was too keen on these terms either, but I tried to think of the big picture. "It'll be all right, Tommy. We get our fun, too, you know."

He mumbled a bit, and then agreed reluctantly.

The girls led us into the house by standing in front of us and placing our hands on their hips and had us follow along. Just the touch of bare skin in my hands without being able to see her was quite stimulating, and I felt myself hardening in my trunks. It was my own wife, to be sure, and she always turned me on anyway, but somehow the senses were heightened for fair when I couldn't see.

When we had all been stood to before our pallets, Helen took charge again. "Right, now you blokes lose the trunks before the next phase can begin."

My hands went to the tie holding the waistband on my trunks, but I found it difficult to expose myself in front of the three girls in this way. As difficult as it was, I also found it stimulating, though my cock was not impressed at being on display. I had thought I'd be standing at attention for inspection, but it was a droopy soldier, indeed.

Helen left us standing there for a few moments, and I could hear the murmur of the girls as they saw us three standing there starkers for their enjoyment. Finally, she spoke. "Right. Here's the next phase. We recognize we get to see you, but you don't get to see us. I have a timer here that I will set for five minutes. One of us will stand before each of you, and for five minutes you may feel us wherever you wish from the shoulders down. You may not go above the shoulders, to keep you from determining who you are touching. Are we agreed on this rule?"

The three of us assented. The very thought of touching and feeling a female body I could not see had me starting to stir.

"Right then. At the end of the five minutes I will reset the timer, and we will rotate, so that you will then feel the next one of us, with the same rules in place. When the timer goes off that time we will rotate for the third and final time, and you will remove the bathing suit of the person before you. After you have removed her bathing suit, you will lie down on your back, and your partner will join you. Again, you may touch anywhere you like, but not above the shoulder, and your partner will remain on top. Agreed?"

By now, I had hardened at the thought, and I'm sure the other guys were hard as well, for I heard Liz and Phoebe whispering about us. We, of course, agreed, and Helen started the timer. I could hear it ticking, and I reached forward to feel the body in front of me.

At first, I just stroked my hands up and down her sides, then I allowed my thumbs to extend inward enough to brush across her bathing bra, which brought a hiss from her. It seemed she was excited at the prospects of the evening as well. I stroked back down her curves and allowed my hands to go around and cup her arse, kneading her globes momentarily, and allowing my fingers to slip inside to stroke her bum.

When my hands came back around I slid one up to her breasts to cup and fondle the breast. Conscious that I only had five minutes with this woman, I slid my other hand around the front of her bathing suit bottoms to feel between her legs. I cupped her mons in my hand, feeling the warmth it exuded. I slipped a couple of fingers inside her bra cup to stroke and feel her nipple while I caressed and stroked forward and back across her pussy. I didn't ignore her legs, either, but stroked up and down the inside of her thighs, stroking upward until I felt the fabric of her bottoms while I slipped my other hand all the way inside her other bra cup, to hold and squeeze her teat and to feel the nipple prodding my palm. 

My lower hand slipped up to the top of her bottoms and I slid it inside until I could slide my finger up and down her crease, which was swollen and wet with excitement. Meanwhile, she had taken hold of my cock and stroked it slowly and lightly, running a fingertip around the helmet, and nearly brought things to a premature close when she rubbed the drop of precum underneath. She was moaning softly, letting me know I was pleasuring her, only for the timer to go off. She stepped backward, much to my disappointment.

It was only a few moments until I felt the next wife step into place. I didn't wait for the timer to start, but started by running my hands up her legs, reveling in her soft, smooth, skin. I slipped my hands to the inside of her thighs and stroked all the way up to her bathing suit, which caused her legs to tremble. I could hear her breath hissing through her teeth. I used a thumb to caress her mound through her suit and I could feel her pressing down onto my thumb. This woman was quite turned on already, and we had really hardly even started.

The muscles in her belly quivered when my hand traced a path up to her navel. I inserted a finger-tip and tickled it. I trailed that finger straight up her belly to her bra, just between the breasts, all the time continuing to pay attention to her pussy through her suit bottoms. The warmth on my fingers was more than noticeable, and I could feel her moisture. I decided it was time to pay closer attention to her charms, so I slid my hand to the top of her bikini bottoms and then into it to cup her swollen lips in my hand while inserting my second finger through her slit into her pussy itself. I also pulled aside one cup of her bra and latched onto her nipple with my lips and pulled. As turned on by everything as she appeared to be, I didn't think she would complain that I went a little further than Helen had directed.

Her gasp and moan told me I was on the right track, so I fluttered my tongue on her nipple tip and started pinching and pulling on her other nipple with my fingers, while adding a second finger to her pussy. I really wished I could pull her bottoms off and suck on her clit! I knew it wouldn't take much to get her over the top if I did, but the infernal buzzer went off and she stepped away, reluctantly, I'm sure.

 Helen's voice was shaky as she reminded us of the third phase. "Right. Now is the third and final round. You blokes will remove your partner's bathing suit, and then you will lie back on the pallet behind you, and your partner will climb on top. There is to be no kissing, and your hands must remain below the shoulders. We have all tied our hair up so it will not fall on you to identify us. If any of you break the rules we will all pull away and the night will be over. Clear?"

We murmured our assent, and I felt a hand stroke my cock and then give it a nice squeeze. 

"Now, one more thing. If you ever want something like this to happen again, you had better be certain your partner comes before you do."

"Something like this to happen again?" Did I hear right? My cock bobbed up and down at the thought and I nearly hyperventilated. I heard a muffled giggle come from in front of me, but I couldn't make out who it was.

I thought quickly how best to handle this, and it came to me. Phoebe would never consent to shave her pubes, though she did keep them nicely trimmed so they wouldn't show when she swam. I had the idea eating her out without the hair in the way would be nicer, but she kept it short enough not to be a problem. This would give me a hint at least who my partner was, not that I had seen if they shaved or not. The first thing I would do is pull her up to my face and eat her out. I could be sure she got off first, and I could maybe get a hint as to who she was.

"Right now. Here we go." Indeed, there was a definite tremor to Helen's voice.

I felt a body press up against mine, pinning my cock up against my belly. Half a moan and a gasp came from her as soon as we made contact. Whoever this was, she certainly was excited! My hands roamed across her body, in no hurry to pull off her bathing suit. I was going to do all I could to make this as good for her as I possibly could. The idea of doing this again was all I needed to keep me going.

I stroked my hands up and down her sides, reveling in her smooth skin and soft curves, sliding down to her upper thighs and caressing her hips and arse. When I felt her begin to tremble, I allowed my fingers to play with the ties on her top, only to leave them tied and then slip down to do the same with the ties on her bikini. I got a soft moan and felt her press herself against my cock. 

Instead of untying her bikini, I slipped a finger in either side and just wiggled it back and forth, then I slipped my hands in to the top knuckles and stroked her cheeks. Her movements were starting to get a little frantic as she tried to press her mons against my cock. I pulled out my hands and pulled the strings on her bottoms, but I didn't untie them totally. Then I caressed her curves again slowly slipping my hands upward until I reached her top. I let my thumbs slide around to the front and lift up on her breasts, bouncing them gently, and then, slowly, tugged the strings loose in the back.

With one hand I lifted the fabric from her breasts, and I buried my face between them before turning enough to capture her left nipple in my mouth. Her knees started to buckle and I had to catch her to keep her from falling before pulling the other string that tied at the neck. I released her nipple only long enough to lick my way across to the other side, and I latched onto that nipple, sucking and fluttering my tongue across the end while I finished untying the bottoms. I let them fall to the floor and felt her pushing me backwards to the pallet.

The carpet did little to cushion my backside as I lay there with my "wee dickie" standing straight up in the air. I could hear my partner's breathing as she dropped down on top of me. When she lay down, and I felt her skin to skin a shudder went throughout my body. I thought I was going to come right then and there. She started to pull my cock to her pussy, but all I could think of was I wanted to do this again, so I grabbed her beneath the arms and lifted her upward until I had her arse on my chest. I reached around and slid her forward enough to bury my face deep in her pussy, taking the time to breath in her ambrosia, before extending my tongue and licking the length of her crease.

Her labia were swollen with desire so that they felt like two small pillows cushioning my tongue as I licked across her opening and on up to find her clitoris already fully exposed. When my tongue flicked across her clit she pressed down on my face. Her hands went to the back of my head and pulled me into her. For a moment, I thought she was going to smother me for sure, but I was able to get my nose out just far enough to get a breath. 

With her holding my head to her as she did, I didn't have to hold her to my face, so I could slip my hands up to find her breasts and play with her nipples while addressing her pussy with my tongue. She rocked back and forth on my face, grunting and groaning for only a few minutes before she pressed down and I was flooded with her juices while she shuddered and groaned. I sucked up as much of her juices as I could while she came down from her high. Then as she started to relax I pursed my lips over her clit and gave her a raspberry, which put her over the top once again, this time with a scream and her legs clamped down on my ears until she pitched forward onto the floor above me and moaned.

I lay there and smiled to myself. I was pretty sure that if it was brought to a vote whether to do something like this again I had her vote.

It was only a few minutes before I felt her crawl back down to lie atop me again. Her breathing was still a little ragged, and she lay on me only long enough for me to enjoy the feeling of her breasts cuddled against my chest. She got on her knees and pressed the head of my cock into her pussy, and slowly sat down on it. Oh, but she was tight with desire, and smooth! Lubrication was no problem and she pressed me all the way in the first time, then rocked, rubbing her mons against my pubis. I could feel small tremors in her pussy, leftover from her last orgasm. She started to move on me and I let her do the work, for I knew if I moved with her it would all be over with too quickly, and I wanted to enjoy this to the fullest. After all, I didn't know if Phoebe would ever go along with something like this again. 


Mona Lisa: Phoebe's View



SonofCallicious recently posted an intriguing story called Mona Lisa. This story retells his story, with his kind permission, from the point of view of one of the women. This is his story seen differently. The story is intended to be an exact parallel of Mona Lisa, but even eye witnesses often differ in their recollection of details.

 ***

 Helen and Liz and I had been buddies for a long time. We have a drink sometimes, chat, coffee and gossip. We ended up married to three good looking blokes who were best friends, too. Helen always says it was because we were too lazy to look any farther. Since she was head over heels with hers, Tommy, that seemed a little out of line. Liz was married to Arthur. I was married to Richard. We were a lot the same, both mad for our man. I suppose it's not all that conventional to be in love with your husband. You should probably be hot for him and any other biped with a dong, but I was exclusive. Helen and Liz were, too. We sort of hid it, since it was an aberration, but we weren't about to change.

 About our men. As far as we knew they were pretty much faithful as well. I'd have been sorry to find out that Richard had ever been unfaithful, especially since we hadn't had any kids yet. He wouldn't be able to have kids after, of course, which would have been a bit of a shame, especially since it's almost impossible to adopt nowadays.

 The main thing about our boys was they had this unholy fascination with the thought of wife swapping. Just among us, mind you, and only because the three of us might almost have been twins - triplets, I mean. The boys were kind and said it was just because we were all so hot that they couldn't help themselves, but we were sure it wasn't that. It was more that we were all three so alike that they couldn't help but wonder what differences there actually were among us. Fewer than they thought, I expected.

 Frequently the six of us would get together for a barbeque and a swim if the weather was half decent, which didn't happen all that much, or dinner and cards, or we would go out on the town for an evening. We all got on well. The boys thought that we three girls had become good friends, ignoring the fact that we'd known each other for ages. A man thing, I suspect. Nothing existed before we met them. We frequently shopped together and otherwise spent time together. The really amazing thing was our closeness in physical attributes - height, weight and critical measurements, so we were able to wear each others' clothes with aplomb. We often borrowed from each other, which gave each of us the equivalent of three wardrobes, though I wasn't any too pleased with Helen's choice of colours and Liz thought my taste in shoes sucked. The boys often joked when they saw one of us wearing one of the other's dress that they weren't sure who they were taking home for the night. It wasn't a very funny joke.

 The three of us were chatting together a few days before Arthur's thirtieth birthday party. We'd all decided that we'd try for kids when we were past thirty, and that was starting to get close for all of us.

 "Look," Helen said, "if we're going to get that stupid fantasy out of their heads, you know, the one about trading their wives off with each other, we have to get to work on it now. I don't want that coming back to haunt me when I'm sixty and Tommy starts up with that business about if only we'd all had the nerve to go ahead with it what a memory it would have made."

 "They don't really want to do it, you know," Liz added. "They just think that as reasonably horny guys it's an opportunity they have to take advantage of, for the sake of the tales they can tell their grandchildren or something."

 "They better not be telling my grandchildren anything of the sort," I snorted.

 "Well, perhaps something they could think about telling their grandchildren, or maybe just sharing with each other," Liz amended.

 "Look, this is what I think we should do." Helen's voice dropped into a whisper as she explained that we could get a little relief if we announced that we were prepared to go ahead with their idiot idea on strict conditions. Then she explained the conditions. Then she explained what she really meant. Liz and I giggled at the last, which was good because neither one of us enjoyed the thought of sharing our guys, even with our best friends, and had just about canned Helen's suggestion the same way we'd diverted all of the boys' efforts to get us to agree in the past. It had become a regular proposal.

 "So when do you propose to announce this sudden change of heart?" I asked.

 "At Arthur's birthday party. We'll all of us be there, and no one else."

 "Sounds good," Liz agreed.

 "Are you really up for it, though?" Helen asked. "It will mean getting naked and having sex in front of each other."

 "I've seen you in the showers at the club often enough," Liz offered. "Besides, it's no more thrilling than seeing meself. And I suppose if I can wear your bra I can watch you have sex with somebody. Not that I expect I'll be watching. I expect to be far too busy enjoying myself to be bothered."

 "I'll bet the forbidden nature of it all will have them hard as rocks and violently aroused. It'll likely be better sex than we usually get, though not likely the best ever," I added.

 "Oh, that sounds good," Helen chuckled. "Tommy's pretty good all the time, so better will be worth playing the game."

 Liz and I agreed.

 When Arthur's birthday celebration came around a few days later, Liz surprised everyone after dinner by announcing that we were finally willing to put the group sex or orgy or wife swapping or whatever idea to rest by letting it happen.

 "You've all been pushing this idea at us privately and when we're all together and for all I know you've taken out ads in the sexual encounters column. I'm surprised it hasn't come up yet this evening. We'll go ahead with it if that's what you want."

 The boys immediately perked up. From what I saw in their pants, more than just their faces perked up. They'd convinced themselves they really wanted this.

 "Here's how it will work, if we finally agree to go along with you," Helen stated. "Next month, when we get together at our house for a barbeque and swim. You blokes have to agree to abide by our rules. All of them, or it's no go."

 The boys almost fell over themselves to agree. They were almost drooling. I could see Richard was thinking over the rules bit, but he was so anxious to get to the meat of the matter, so to speak, that he let his friends override what had to be serious reservations. I think he thought I was looking forward to maybe trying Tommy out, a test run as it were, but he should have known better. I only wanted him, but for his sake I was willing to go along with this foolishness, at least part way, though I supposed there wasn't really any way to stop short of what we'd more or less promised them.

 I only hoped Helen's plan would work.

 For the next few weeks Helen and Liz and I spent a lot of time on the phone refining our plans, taking care of the details, working out the best way to confuse the men. The idea would be that they wouldn't be allowed to see who they were with and no one would say, so there really couldn't be any infidelity. That meant we had a lot to think about to minimize our differences. The three of us looked a lot alike, certainly, but there were differences, too, and one job, perhaps the most important, was to cover those up.

One example was that while the other two shaved, I only trimmed enough to look decent in a bikini. I'd have to shave as well, but I couldn't do it until Richard left for work the morning of our get together or he'd find out. We had sex often enough that I couldn't even risk the night before. With the upcoming orgy, or whatever it turned out to be, Richard was hornier than he'd been for months, which was a most fortunate, if unanticipated, side effect of our promise.

 Richard had suggested shaving a few times but I'd been reluctant. Being shaved might get me a little more oral sex, as I didn't seem to be getting as much as the other two from what we told each other. Mind you, they might have been lying. Girls boast as much as boys, and probably with the same regard to truth. Worth a shot, though.

 Another was that we all smelled a little different. People do, you know. We decided we'd all wear some of Helen's scent to get that mostly out of the way. There are private parts deodorants, too. Since we were pretty sure they wouldn't get to that part of it, at least this time (and just when did this experience we were building towards develop a continuing life of its own?) we'd forego them.

 Liz was a little more modest than Helen or I, and usually wore a one-piece suit. We'd talked her out of the ruffles a year or so ago but she hadn't given up the skirt part until a couple of months ago. I doubt the boys noticed. However, for this situation she'd have to wear a bikini like we did or it would be too obvious who was who. We went shopping for that together, and as it happened we all ended up getting new suits. They didn't look all that much the same, though you couldn't tell them apart by feel, which was the point, of course. The boys probably didn't notice that, either.

 "What about things like nipple size?"

 "We're all close enough, and if you think a guy ramming his cock into you is thinking at all, much less measuring small differences in nipple size and breast weight, you haven't been married as long as I know you have."

 That seemed pretty definitive.

 Of course, we were all careful to be sure the boys never overheard any of our plotting - I suppose I mean planning. Use whichever term you think appropriate.

 Finally the fateful night was at hand and Richard and I drove over to Tommy and Helen's home. We could have easily walked it and often had, but I had some things to take with me and didn't want anyone to see that I looked like a bagwoman, or actually more like a courtesan on a call since my case was quite elegant.

 The evening was warm enough to really enjoy the pool, which seldom happened. Mostly the sky was overcast or the air was too cool to enjoy lounging around in a couple of scraps of cloth, though the way Richard's eyes still bugged out when he looked at me in my bikini was quite warming. Today, fortunately, was one of those rare pleasantly warm, sunny days, with just enough of a breeze to keep one cool in the sun. The six of us played about for a bit in the water. The lads were obviously enjoying the sights. We did look good, each in the same small two piece bathing suit. I suppose keeping ourselves fit did pay off to judge by the attention we were getting. I was certainly getting a lot from each of the boys - a woman always knows when she's being ogled, no matter how hard the men try to disguise it - and the others were getting as much. I suppose there was a ton of speculation. I'd have been surprised if the boys weren't trying to figure out who would get who and would it be worth it. There was a little extra attention for Liz at first since she almost never wore a bikini. Tommy and Richard both made a special point of complimenting her. Liz blushed prettily at the extra attention. Perhaps she wouldn't be going back to the one-piece anytime soon. 

 Nothing overt or untoward happened in the water, although there was more physical contact amongst us than was normal, arms and legs brushing, stray hands, that sort of thing. There was a heightened sense of anticipation in the joking and comments. We've always flirted, nothing serious, just making sure the boys weren't dead sort of thing. That's where this damn fool idea had come from in the first place. It was probably Arthur, that first time. Tonight, though, with their goal in sight, as they thought, the flirting seemed a bit more directed, though nobody was at all blatant. I suppose they didn't need to be, did they? It was a sure thing. Sort of.

 Dinner time came and we all got out of the water and toweled off, but before anyone went into the house to dress Helen suggested we all remain in our bathing togs. "After all, there is no point in changing our clothing when it won't stay on long anyway, now is there?"

 "I suppose not," I moaned, "but I hate to eat in a wet suit."

 "You're not in a wetsuit; you're in a bikini," Richard joked. I made a face at him but put up with the discomfort. It had been part of the plan. Getting dressed in street clothes would have increased the likelihood that we could be told apart. On the other hand, Richard knew all about my fetish about wet bathing suits, so I could hardly have let Helen's command pass without some sort of objection, now could I?

 The blokes all raised their eyebrows at Helen's direction but no one raised a protest. It was likely the chance to continue seeing us in our bathing suits without the water in the way. A cooling evening breeze had given us all pokies and that drew their attention, too. I was quite sure Richard wasn't staring to figure out what differences there were in our nipples. He didn't know it might be critical. I blessed Helen's perception in making sure that we had bikini tops that would clearly show that our nipples had poked out, especially when wet, as ours were. At least our suits weren't the kind that went all transparent when you put them in water.

 Tommy got some sausages going on the grill and it wasn't long before we were all ready to eat. I put up with a lot more ogling, but then the other two got their fair share of it as well. It did feel rather good to be able to attract male attention still at my advanced age. I'd be thirty in no time. We girls sipped at white wine while the boys each had a Guinness. I think they'd taken a vow to refrain from any more, since usually the boys would guzzle two or three each. Probably something to do with enhancing their endurance in case they each got to shag all three of us, though that wasn't going to happen. Not today, anyway.

 Liz, in her unaccustomed two-piece, caught Richard's eye more frequently than Helen or I. I tried to tell myself that it was just the newness of her exposing herself, and maybe a touch of satiation with me. I wasn't at all jealous. I liked Liz. Richard, now . . . .

 When we had all eaten our fill and had had a couple of beers or glasses of wine, Helen pushed her plate back and picked up an empty bowl. She set it in the middle of the table, then passed a small slip of paper and a pen to each of the men.

"Right, now this is how this is going to work. You will each write your name on your piece of paper, then you will fold it carefully in half and drop it into the bowl. We will each draw a name. We girls have agreed we will never reveal to you men whose name we have drawn, because we don't want any jealousy to spoil our friendships. Can you blokes agree there will be no hard feelings or repercussions after this evening? We don't want this to cause jealousy or upset or future unfaithfulness or, heaven forbid, divorce."

 The boys looked at each other and nodded, obviously surprised that we thought there might be consequences from what was clearly just supposed to be a fun fling.

 "Then this is how it will work," Helen stated. "Each of you will be blindfolded, and you will not know who your partner is."

 The men seemed astonished.

 "What's the point, then?" one of them mumbled. Helen held up a hand before any of them could say more.

 "We agree to participate only under these circumstances. You agreed to follow our rules. If you don't agree, then everything is off."

 Of course, the guys quickly agreed. After all, this was something they had lusted after for nearly a year, even if it wasn't going to work out exactly as they'd thought of it. Of course, they hadn't asked us what we thought of it, which is why we had always said no up to now.

 I went into the house and returned with the overnight bag I had brought along. Inside I had cotton balls, tape, and strips of dark fabric. I divided the materials into three piles and handed one each to the other women.

 Each of us went to our own husbands and proceeded to blind them, though not permanently. I suppose I'd had a brief urge when Richard was ogling Liz, but realized that he couldn't ogle me if I did. We had them each close their eyes. Then we taped the cotton balls over their eyelids to prevent them from opening their eyes even though they'd promised not to. It would be hard to hold them to their promises if all of us were having the massive orgasms we were planning. Then the black cloth was carefully tied around their heads over their eyes to rule out any possible peeking. It also served to block out any light penetration, leaving them as near to blindness as could be done and still be reversible.

 "Right," Helen continued when we were done. "Now we will lead you into the den, where Liz and Phoebe have prepared pallets on the floor. When we arrive there, you blokes will remove your trunks for the next phase of the evening's entertainment."

 "Wait a minute!" Tommy interrupted. "We're all going to be in there naked for you to see us, but we don't get to see you?"

 "That's the way it works. You can always say no, and we can all go home. We think you'll enjoy yourself even so."

 "I don't know that I like the idea of you girls all getting a look at me naked."

 "Now you get an idea what we girls feel like when some bloke is eyeing us all the time, the way you three were ogling us at dinner. Or did you think we were going to get a ruler and measure you up? Are you in or not?"

 None of the lads were too keen on the terms Helen had set forth, but if they didn't agree, that would be it for their big evening, and they seemed to be pretty sure we would never agree to anything at all again. "It'll be all right, Tommy. We get our fun, too, you know," Richard said. "Besides, we can always renegotiate the terms for the next time."

 As if, I thought to myself.

 Tommy reluctantly agreed.

 We led the boys into the house. Each of us stood in front of our husband, adjusted their hands on our hips, and had them follow along, just like a parade. The simple touch of his warm hands on the bare skin above my bikini bottoms started heat flowing. I was almost as stimulated as the men were. Every now and again the man behind me would jostle me, and I felt his hardening erection. He was very turned on. I was his wife and he had this growing hard for me just walking along when he couldn't see me? This would be a very interesting evening.

 It seemed to me that the other men, like Richard, were making chances to "accidentally" bump into their wives and demonstrate just how hot they were getting. Not just the men, either.

 Helen made sure the men were all standing in front of their pallets, something like boot camp, I expect. "Right, now you blokes lose the trunks before the next phase can begin."

 I watched Richard's hands go to the tie holding the waistband on his trunks, but he was slow about it. I suppose he found it difficult to expose himself in front of three girls in this way, but it likely had something to do with not being able to see exactly who he was exposing himself to.

 "You know, Richard," I whispered to him, "I can't see how you're going to get through the rest of this with your trunks on."

 That was enough to get him started, by reminding him of what was at the end of the rainbow. It got him moving, but his penis had flagged somewhat at the thought of all the attention he was getting, somewhat like a small boy who is suddenly the focus of his aunts' attentions.

 We left the men standing there for a few moments, breathing in vulnerability: blind and naked. Liz had thought it might heighten their senses. We murmured among ourselves, somewhat surprised that there wasn't as much difference among our men as we'd expected. From what Liz had said, I always thought Thomas was hung like a horse, with Arthur possibly a millimetre shorter, according to Helen. In fact they were all three roughly the same size. I couldn't figure out whether it was the way they used the tools of their trade or the fever of their wives' imaginations that led to the discrepancy between what I'd heard and what I saw.




Mona Lisa: Phoebe's View



"Next phase. We know we get to see you, and a fine sight it is, but you don't get to see us. I have a timer here that I will set for five minutes. One of us will stand before each of you, and for five minutes you may feel us wherever you wish from the shoulders down. You may not go above the shoulders, to keep you from determining who you are touching. You may not remove any clothing. Are we agreed on this rule?"

 The three men assented. The very thought of touching and feeling female bodies they could not see or identify - not bad bodies, either, if I do say so myself - was stirring all of them. Naked as they were, the stirring was quite obvious. Their stirring stirred me, too, and judging from the lip licking going on, the others, too.

 "Right then. At the end of the five minutes I will reset the timer, and we will rotate, so that you will then feel the next one of us, with the same rules in place. When the timer goes off that time we will rotate for the third and final time, and you will remove the bathing suit of the person before you. After you have removed her bathing suit, you will lie down on your back, and your partner will join you. Again, you may touch anywhere you like, what will now be a naked body, but not above the shoulder, and your partner will remain on top. Agreed?"

 By now, the men's little soldiers were standing fiercely at attention. Perhaps it was the mention of naked bodies. The men were unable to do more than grunt their consent, their minds likely already hurtling into neutral as they were consumed by the thought that they were about to achieve their hearts' desire, or at least one of them. Desire was certainly a big part of what was going on.

 Helen started the timer. I could hear it ticking as the man in front of me moved forward to feel my body. 

 At first, he just stroked his hands up and down my sides, warming me, then heating me. Next, he extended his thumbs inward enough to brush across my bathing bra. I hissed with pleasure. He gave a little satisfied sigh, apparently pleased at my excitement. He stroked back down my curves and sent his hands around to cup my bottom, kneading me momentarily. He slipped his fingers under my bottoms to stroke my bum. My exhilaration was compounded by knowing that the man in front of me, worshipping my body, had no idea which of three women I was.

 He slid his hands back out, leaving tingles behind, while he stroked upward to cup my breasts, bouncing them slightly in my bra top, then fondling them, sliding his thumb across each to target my upstanding nipple. Each time his thumbs caressed my nipple a shot of fire sped through my body, landing like lightning in my pussy. This was a man who knew how to give pleasure. Rather than dawdle solely over my breasts, he dropped one hand onto my bottoms to slip into my core between my legs. He cupped my mons in his hand. I must have felt like I was on fire. His other hand gave up on stroking my breast through my bra and he slipped two fingers in to caress my breast flesh to flesh. When he grasped my nipple lightly I moaned, thankful that we'd agreed to allow that much noise. At least our men could know we appreciated their attentions. I couldn't have kept silent to save my soul. He stroked forward and back across my pussy. He stroked up and down the inside of my thighs, stroking upward on the sensitive skin until he met the fabric of my bottoms. He slipped his other hand all the way inside my other bra cup, to hold and squeeze my breast. I could feel the nipple prodding his palm. He was stoking the fires that were threatening to make me cry out. I moaned again. 

 He slid his lower hand into my bottoms and started sliding his fingers up and down my crease, which was warm, swollen and wet with excitement. Not wanting to be completely selfish, I took his erection and stroked it slowly and lightly, running a fingertip around the helmet and rubbed the drop of pre-ejaculate that had formed on the tip on the underside of him. He started back, tearing himself from my hands. He moaned with arousal. I moaned again, pleased beyond measure. One more touch, a flick of my clit, and I knew I'd be over the top. Then the timer went off and we dropped our hands from each other. I stepped backward. He made as if to follow, then dropped back dejectedly. That had been far hotter than I'd thought it would be. Liz and Helen were flushed as well. Hotter for all of us, it seemed.

 The next step was to change partners. Helen and Liz and I shuffled around so they wouldn't guess who had gone where. I stood in front of my second partner.

 He didn't wait for the signal that the timer had started but began running his hands up my legs, enjoying the feel of my soft, smooth, skin, causing little flickers of the fire that had started to consume me to reignite. He slipped his hands to the inside of my thighs and stroked all the way up to my bathing suit. My legs trembled with the feelings he created within me. My breath hissed out from between my teeth. His thumb caressed my mound through my suit. I couldn't stop myself from pressing down onto his thumb.

 The muscles in my belly quivered when his hand traced a path up to my navel. He inserted a finger-tip into my navel and tickled it. He trailed that finger straight up my front to my bra, just between my breasts. At the same time he was continuing to pay attention to my pussy through my suit bottoms. Being attended to in two places at once was really hot, and I'm sure my body temperature was way up, especially in my pussy. I was starting to get wet.

 He slid his hand into my bikini bottoms to cup my swollen lips while he inserted his second finger through my slit into my pussy. I bucked toward him as if it had been his penis. I wasn't going to make it through this sweet torture without exploding. On the other hand, perhaps that's why God made it possible for women to have multiple orgasms. I was eagerly looking forward to my first that day.

 He pulled aside one cup of my bra and latched onto my nipple with his lips and pulled. As turned on by everything as I was, there was no way I was going to complain of a breach of the rules, if it even was a breach. It just seemed to me like the right thing for him to do. A little more and I'd be over. Another touch or two. Keep going.

 I gasped and moaned to let him know he was on the right track. He fluttered his tongue on the tip of my nipple and started pinching and pulling on my other nipple with his fingers while continuing his attentions to my pussy. I was just on the edge, another ten seconds, or maybe the feel of his tongue on me, in me, would have done it, and then the infernal buzzer went off and we were finished. I stepped away reluctantly. I was so close I was trembling.

 Helen's voice was shaky as she read out the final set of rules. I doubted I could even talk. There was going to be a next time. I was so hot I could light matches on my tongue and we hadn't even progressed to the main event. "Right. Now is the third and final round. You blokes will remove your partner's bathing suit with as much additional attention as you care to expend. Then you will lie back on the pallet behind you and your partner will climb on top. There is to be no kissing and your hands must remain below the shoulders. We have all tied our hair up so it will not fall on you to identify us. If any of you break the rules we will all pull away and the night will be over. Clear?"

 The boys' confirmed their agreement, though Richard's was more a growl than a yes. I gave my partner's cock a quick stroke in approval of his agreement, and a quick squeeze. We'd talked about the need to get the boys all hard before we started going to town on them, but that wasn't a problem. There was a way to get them all soft again and we voicelessly agreed it was time to get that started. 

 "Now, one more thing. If you ever want something like this to happen again, you had better be certain your partner comes before you do."

 The boys' cocks bobbed up and down at the thought that this experience might be repeated. The thought certainly excited them. So it wasn't just us. I started to giggle at their reaction but managed to stifle it before I could be identified.

 "Right now. Here we go." Indeed, there was a definite tremor in Helen's voice, almost as if her partner was starting early.

 I pressed my body up against my partner's as soon as Helen stopped. I managed to pin his cock against his belly. I let out half a moan and a gasp as soon as we made contact. Maybe he thought I was forward but I was desperate to get off. I'd been driven up to the edge twice now and all I wanted was to go over. His hands roamed across my body, in no hurry to pull off my bathing suit. Perhaps he had some idiot idea of stoking my passions until I came big. He was so anxious because of that stupid promise that maybe we'd do this again if he made sure I came first, so he was going to overdo me. It was going to be a monstrous climax if only he got to it. I didn't need prep and I certainly hadn't needed Helen to set them all on edge. From what I'd seen we were all three of us ready to tumble over the top.

 A thought hit me. We'd never decided what to do if they actually got us off. Helen had been sure they'd be too involved with their fantasies to actually think about our needs, but it hadn't worked out that way. I was a bit of a screamer when I climaxed, especially if I came hard. I was sure neither of the others was, though I didn't know for sure. I'd try to bury the scream, maybe just a loud moan if I could control myself enough when I finally got the orgasm I was straining for.

 My partner stroked his hands up and down my sides, reveling in the smooth skin and soft curves, sliding down to my upper thighs and caressing my hips and bum. I writhed against him, trying to convey my need. When I began to tremble with the intensity of my arousal he played with the ties on my top, only to leave them tied and then slip down to do the same with the ties on my bottoms. I let out a soft moan and pressed up against his cock, when what I really wanted to do was to scream at him to get on with it.

 Instead of untying my bikini, he slipped a finger in either side of my bottoms and wiggled them back and forth. Then he slipped his hands in to the top knuckles and stroked my cheeks. My movements were starting to get frantic as I tried to press my mons against his cock. He pulled his hands out of my bottoms and finally pulled out the ties on the sides, but didn't untie them completely. Then he caressed my body again slowly slipping his hands upward until he reached my top. He slid his thumbs around to the front and lifted up on my breasts, bouncing them gently, and then, slowly, tugged the strings loose in the back.

 With one hand he lifted the fabric from my breasts and buried his face between them before turning enough to capture my left nipple in his mouth. My knees started to buckle as the fire shot through me, hotter and more urgent than before. He caught me to keep me from falling before pulling the other string that tied at the neck. He let go of my nipple just long enough to lick his way across to the other breast where he latched onto that nipple, sucking and fluttering his tongue across the end while he finished untying my bottoms. As my bottoms fell to the floor I pushed him backwards on to the pallet.

 He lay there with his "wee dickie" standing straight up in the air, some sergeant's dream soldier. Whatever it was in this scenario that was setting the boys off was working overtime. I was breathing hard as I dropped down on top of him. I lay over him, skin to skin to skin, hot and flagrantly sexual. He shuddered, this time, and tensed up as if he was trying to stave off a massive orgasm that would certainly have ended the night for him. It was nice to know the arousal was working both ways. I started to pull his cock to my pussy, but instead he grabbed me beneath the arms and lifted me upward until my bottom was firmly set on his chest. I wondered whether he actually needed to be told what went where. Oh, he knew. He slid me forward enough to bury his face deep in my pussy, extending his tongue to lick the length of my crease.

 My labia were swollen with desire, sensitive to his every touch. I felt like I was on the way to heaven. When his tongue flicked across my clit I pressed down on his face, signalling that he'd got to the right place, now finish the job. I pulled the back of his head forward into me. He choked as if he was going to smother, and maybe I was holding a little tight, but there was a better way than breaking free to relieve the pressure. He squirmed a nostril out so he could breathe and was on his way. 

 I was holding his face so tight he got his hands free to find my breasts and play with my nipples again while he was performing explosive magic on my pussy with his tongue. I rocked back and forth on his face, grunting and groaning, just a short while before I finally pressed down and shuddered and moaned, spiralling out to wherever the great climaxes live before floating slowly down to Earth again. As I started to relax into a post-climactic glow he pursed his lips over my clit and gave me a raspberry, which put me over the top once again, this time with a scream I couldn't hold back. My legs clamped down on his ears until I pitched forward onto him, moaning in pleasure, then rolled off onto the floor. He was getting my vote for a rematch, let me tell you.

It was only a few minutes before I was able to crawl back to lie atop him again. My breathing was still a little ragged but it was past time to feel him inside. I lay on him for just a short time, cuddling my breasts into what was a very masculine chest, then raised myself to my knees and pressed the head of his cock between my labia and slowly sat down on it. I was tight with desire and smooth with the lubrication of my heat as I slowly drew him into me, warm, hard, filling. I pressed him all the way in the first time. Then I started to rock, to feel him, move him against my most sensitive spots, rubbing my mons against his pubis. I could feel small tremors in my pussy, leftover from my orgasm, and each tremor meant feeling that warm hardness inside in a slightly different delicious way. I started to move on him, dropping down and rising up, and he let me do the work, seeming to enjoy it. His eyes dulled as he relaxed into the pleasure.

 After a bit I could feel him hardening up even more and I think he was trying to put off coming. I heard him gasp out "I'm not going to last long" in a sort of strangled whisper. I grinned to myself at the effect I was having on him, an unknown woman bringing him to orgasm. His fantasies must have been working overtime. I squeezed my vaginal muscles, and he groaned. Then I stopped and leaned back far enough to let me get in a little stimulation of my own. No more solo climaxes. I slipped my hand in between us and started caressing my clit in time with squeezing my muscles inside, stimulating us both. He was caressing my breasts, pulling and pinching my nipples the way I liked best. 

 I was so near. I moaned with the nearness of it, this third time. I began pistoning on his cock while rubbing frantically at my clit. Then I drove myself down hard against him and began quivering as I came again. He groaned as he drove himself up into me as far as he could and exploded, pushing me over for a wonderful aftershock as I felt the force of his ejaculation battering against my cervix. He'd been driven hard and came gangbusters. He drove into me deep and strong time and again as he emptied his balls into me. I'd done that, driven that man wild. He'd driven me wild. It was possibly the best sex I'd ever had in my life. And with . . . oops, not supposed to say.

 Both of us gasped for breath as we held tight to each other. I wrapped my arms about him and he held me close, contented and exhausted. After a few minutes I sat up again and lifted off his cock. I was reluctant to let go of that mighty warrior. I wiped him off with a damp cloth and bent down and kissed the head of "Wee Dickie", then reluctantly walked away.

 The three blokes lay there silently, apparently basking in the wonder of what they had just experienced. We women were the same. There had been something magic. There was none of the usual locker room joking among the men and the three of us knew that we'd shared a special experience we weren't prepared to talk about. I know all six of us felt like something exceptional had just happened and we didn't want to break the spell. It was probably fifteen minutes before we came back into the room.

 "I hope you enjoyed yourselves tonight," Helen said softly. "I can say that we all did. Please don't ask who was with whom, for we have pledged never to tell. We will remove the blinders now if you will sit up for us."

 They all sat and each wife removed her husband's blindfold and then kissed him gently. Passion had dissipated for a time but we still loved the lads, despite, or perhaps because of, the experience we'd just shared.

 We had dressed and brushed out our hair. The guys looked at each other sheepishly, feeling exposed before the ladies, even though they'd been naked with us for a goodly time. I suppose it's different when you can see your own nakedness.

 They fumbled for their damp swim togs and struggled to pull them up their legs. It broke the spell, to see them behaving so foolishly.

 When everyone was dressed, at least minimalistically in the case of the men, we all gathered round the kitchen table for a couple of beers for the men and another bottle of white wine for us. Our conversation was relaxed and comfortable. No one mentioned the evening's entertainment. Of course, it was a great deal more than an entertainment, which none of us had expected, and I don't know that any of us wanted to deal with that until we'd thought a great deal more about it.

 Soon it was time to take our leave, to hugs all around. The hugs, while not salacious, were warm and with feeling, far from perfunctory.

 *****************

 Richard and I sat silently in our automobile for a moment before he placed the key in the ignition and turned it. He looked over to me and squeezed my hand once before he put the car into gear and backed into the motorway. I turned on the radio and found my favorite station, one that played older music, just in time to hear Nat King Cole crooning one of my favorites. It seemed to be one of his, too.

 "How did you girls do it with the names?" he asked. "With only three of us, you might have drawn mine? How would I have known the difference, if it hadn't been that whoever I was with was shaved?"

 I lifted my skirt far enough to let him see my bare pussy. I hoped my smile was as mysterious as Mona Lisa's.

 **********

I just want to remind you that this story is as much that of SonofCallicious as it is of mine, and I do have his blessing and encouragement to post it.



Mona Lisa: What Happens Next



SonofCallicious wrote a fascinating story called Mona Lisa, which I urge you to read, with elements of Frank Stockton's The Lady or the Tiger and its lesser known sequel, The Discourager of Hesitancy. I added a second perspective, Mona Lisa: Phoebe's View, with his permission. This tale tells of their next encounter, again with his permission and encouragement.

***

I hadn't been able to think about very much for the last few weeks except that hot encounter at Helen and Tommy's home when my two friends and our three husbands had had a night of absolutely amazing sex. None of the three of us wanted to talk about it until we'd taken it all in, and for myself that experience wasn't working its way through my head very quickly. You see, what happened was that the boys hadn't known which of us they were making love to, and we had promised never to tell them. They had been blindfolded quite thoroughly and couldn't be sure. Richard thought that he was sure that his partner was one of the other women, Liz or Helen, because they shaved and I didn't - until that day - but I let him know after that I had shaved as well, putting him back with three candidates. That was only possible, of course, because Helen, Liz and I were of a size and quite similar. We'd done our best to cover over any differences, and the rules forbade kissing or touching above the shoulders which could have disclosed our identities right off as we didn't do our hair the same way. Of course, they couldn't see differences in eye colour and hair colour, but they could tell whose hair was longer and the texture was different, too.

From bits and pieces we overheard, none of the lads was at all sure who he'd been with and speculated endlessly on who it might have been. Their speculation didn't reduce their pressure on us to try it again, this time with somewhat different rules. I was for it since there had been something more to it than just mind blowing fantastic sex, though that was a major attraction as well.

"God, Phoebe," Helen smirked at one of our gettogethers - the three of us used to get together at least weekly, and more often since that adventure - "you're positively shameless, and you used to be the reserved one."

"I'm sure I was quieter than Phoebe," Liz commented, "though I wouldn't mind another try, either. There was something extra to it above and beyond what I get at home. Though that's certainly adequate and very pleasing, too," she added quickly. All three of us had very satisfying sex lives in our marriages, and were quite in love with our husbands. We did agree that our little adventure into naughtiness had been above and beyond our expectations. Helen had convinced us to try it as a way to stop the boys from pushing us so hard, though that hadn't been the result. Not only the lads were eager for another go.

"I do wish I had a better handle on what it meant," I added. "I'm reluctant to just rush into another session if it's going to have the same effect without having some feel for what it all means."

"I don't know if we can get that. Ever think that maybe we need another day of debauchery to put everything in perspective?" Liz asked plaintively.

"No," I replied. "We may need another day of debauchery but I doubt that it will resolve anything for us."

Helen laughed. "I suppose not."

The next time we sat down together, Helen reported that she and Tommy had talked about the idea of a repeat performance.

"The boys are up for it, of course. When are they not? However, they want a change in the rules. Not all of them. Just one, actually, and only part of it."

"That should be doable," Liz burbled, clearly pleased that progress was being made.

"Which one?" I enquired warily. Richard could be devious, and I suspected Tommy and Arthur had similar outlooks. It was what kept them as friends, after all.

"Er," Helen seemed a little reluctant, or confused, or was she . . . excited? "The one about the lads being blindfolded."

"No." I was firm and decisive. "Too much damage can result if we all know who's with who. You know that, Helen."

"It's not quite like that. You see, it's us they want blindfolded."

"That sounds suitably tantalizing," Liz commented. "Just think, the idea of making love with a person when you don't know who it is, and never will."

"My thought exactly," Helen replied. "Phoebe?"

"I'm not happy about it, but turnabout is fair play. All of our lads have told us how arousing it was to be making love with one of the women of their dreams, but with no idea as to which particular woman was involved. I imagine I could enjoy that part."

"Right. The same condition, that none of the men is to ever reveal who was their ultimate partner, applies. So, are we all agreed, then?"

"Yes" came from both Liz and me. I was a little less enthusiastic. Liz was agog at the idea. She'd lost a lot of her shyness since the last time.

"Do you know what they're planning to do to eliminate their differences?"

"Not as such. They are much of a size, after all. They are all going to use Arthur's scent - the one that comes in a bottle, and don't the two of you be looking at me with that little grin. Arthur offered to provide the other two with penis prosthetics but they said they refused to deprive him of anything he needed.

"They're all much of a size," Liz commented. "I don't see why any of them would need a supplement, not that there aren't larger cocks in the world. Mine does me quite well, thank you."

"Men are little boys at heart, Liz. They're playing," I explained.

"Well, they'd better grow up if they intend to be daddies one day."

"Oh, Liz, are you . . .?" Helen asked.

"Not yet, but we're going to start trying, now that Arthur's thirty. I'm going off the pill next month."

"So, if we want to do this, we don't have much time," Helen concluded.

"That's right," I said. "Richard and I will likely follow along in a short time. As a matter of fact, if we do do this, it could mark the start of all of us going after families."

Helen looked intrigued.

"Perhaps it could, at that. I'll let the boys know we're agreeable, and perhaps we could have it happen next time we get together, at Casa Arthur and Liz. All right with you, Liz?"

"Certainly." It couldn't be at our place because it was still summer and we'd want to play in the pool if we could, and Richard and I didn't have a pool. We did have a lovely fireplace, which made a lot more sense in our climate, which is why we tended to host more in the fall, winter and spring.

Finally the fateful night was at hand and Richard and I made the trek over to Liz and Arthur's home in the car. We could have easily walked it. It is just over three blocks, but neither of us wanted to be seen bearing burdens that looked like we were camping out in their backyard. I had my little but elegant overnight bag with me and Richard had a garbage bag full of whatever he was supposed to provide. I could see it was more bulky than heavy, but apparently the lads had put in a fair amount of mental effort to make this a memorable experience for us. For them, too, I'm sure, but they were a caring lot.

It was a late summer evening, but still it was warm enough to really enjoy the pool. Possibly the last warm evening we'd have. Today, like our last adventure, was a pleasantly warm, sunny day, with just enough of a breeze to keep one cool in the sun. The six of us played about for a bit in the water, with the lads enjoying the view of the women each wearing a small two piece bathing suit, and we women enjoying the play of muscles in our men's skins and some rather hard, round bums, too. Nobody outright complimented anyone on his or her looks, but the heated glances made it clear everyone was more than acceptable. 

Nothing overt or untoward happened in the water, although I must say there was more physical contact amongst us than was normal, with brushes of arms or legs, and there was a heightened sense of anticipation in the joking and comments. Maybe it was a little more sensual than usual. Liz almost lost her top at one point, and from the pout it looked like she wasn't all that happy it had only been almost. I stared a calming look at her, since having an outright orgy in the pool hadn't been in anyone's plan. Perhaps another time.

Dinner time came and we all got out of the water and toweled off. No one went into the house to dress. We all remembered Helen's words from last time: "After all, there is no point in changing our clothing when it won't stay on long anyway, now is there?" Made us all want to get to the afters.

The lads enjoyed seeing us in our bathing suits and they were a treat themselves. Our nipples were pressing out the thin fabric of our tops, which had all the boys staring, as it should have. It wasn't a cool breeze that caused our nipples to poke out, though, but remembered passion.

Arthur had hamburgers cooking on their barbeque and it wasn't long before we were all ready to eat. We sipped at white wine, while the men each had a Smithwick's in front of them. Arthur never served Guinness, which he always claimed was an English something or other, though he'd drink it fast enough. All of us were careful not to overimbibe. We'd all learned that there were no moments that we wanted to forget, from Liz, in her unaccustomed two-piece, to Tommy, in his baggy suit, to the light smoke rising from the coals under the barbeque grill.

When we had all eaten and drunk our fill, Arthur pushed his plate back and picked up an empty bowl. He set it in the middle of the table, then passed a small slip of paper and a pen to each of us women. "Right, now this is how this is going to work. You will each write your name on your piece of paper, then you will fold it carefully in half and drop it into the bowl. We will each draw a name. We men have agreed we will never reveal to anyone whose name we have drawn, because we don't want any jealousy to spoil our friendships. Can everyone agree there will be no hard feelings or repercussions after this evening?"

We all looked at each other and nodded. After all, for whatever reason there had been no fallout at all from our last little adventure.

Arthur must have been watching.

"Hey, what's this?" He'd seen one of the names that had gone in face up, and checked the other two. "Who is Zoë? Who is Selina? Who is Nazli? I suppose you can use pseudonyms, but it doesn't help us choose if we don't know who is who."

"That will be for you to figure out," Liz told him.

"Well, our first choice for picking partners had better work out, then."

There was a ton of speculation hanging over the men. You could almost see them calculating the odds as to who would get whom. They already knew it would be worth it. Unlike last time, when they couldn't know which woman they'd have, this time they would know and we wouldn't. The change brought out traits of possessiveness that they hadn't expected. I guess to the male mind it's one thing to shag someone else's wife and a great deal different to have someone shag your own wife, right in front of you as it were. On the other hand, they'd each had this strange fantasy of wanting to make love to a different woman who was almost a duplicate of the woman they already had. Perhaps it's something like wanting to make love to twins, another fantasy I don't quite understand.

From our point of view it was exciting to think of taking on a strange man, who wasn't so strange that we didn't know him, but unknown in the sense that we'd never know which of them he had been. The last time we'd been able to control the choice of men. If you believed that bit about the names in the bowl I do pity you when you find out the truth about the tooth fairy. After all, we might have been stuck with our own husbands, or not, as the case may be. This time we had no place in the choice at all, and were bound to join with a man we hadn't chosen. There was a touch of thrill in it, of course, and whoever I ended up with would be completely acceptable, but really I'd much rather choose myself. I don't really enjoy feeling helpless.

Liz was certainly eager, but I think Helen felt more like I did, as she was normally a take charge type.

"So let's get on with then, shall we?" Arthur invited. "As we have agreed, the women will be blind folded this time. No one is to ever disclose who was whose partner - agreed?" There was a muttered assent. "Fine, then. The first thing we're going to do, after the girls are blindfolded, is to strip them bare. Then Richard is going to manage the slave auction. Not real slavery, mind, just a way for us to decide who'll be going with whom. There is that raised area by the bar downstairs and we can have the girls pose there."

"Will we be naked?" Helen asked.

"Of course. I said the first step was to get you bare. Then we'll ogle you all we like and you can't get peeved since you won't be able to see it. After all, we didn't even get to see you last time."

"I can feel your ogle," I piped up.

"And you'd be upset with us if we didn't think you were worth an ogle or three, now wouldn't you?" Tommy added. He was right, so there wasn't much of an answer I could make.

Liz and Arthur had finished their basement, and about half of it was taken up by what they called the party room. It had adjustable lighting, which Arthur turned down to about half bright. There was a raised bar area. Liz always said that was so anyone who couldn't navigate the tiny step up would know it was time to stop drinking. There were a number of armless couches.

"Well, this isn't what we intended them for," Liz explained. "But it should be more comfortable than those pallets on the floor at Helen's. To be honest, we bought the third last week after this event had been planned. I didn't want to be the one shagging on the concrete."

Actually, they had a raised floor, but I knew what she meant.

I'd brought the blindfold materials and Richard had his big plastic bag full of I don't know what party aids. It was soft when he accidentally hit me with it. I was curious, but I was also sure he wasn't going to tell me what was in it.

I had the same cotton balls, tape, and strips of dark fabric as we'd used the last time. I divided the materials into three piles and handed one each to the three men.

Each of the lads took his pile over to his wife. We closed our eyes and the men then taped the cotton balls over our eyelids so that even if we tried to open our eyes we would be unable to do so. I noticed Richard was careful to avoid putting any tape over my eyebrows. Then the black cloth was carefully tied around our heads over our eyes to rule out any possible peeking. It also served to block out any light penetration, leaving us as near to blindness as could be done without doing harm. I'm not sure about the others, though there were some revealing moans, but Richard took his time about the blindfolding, running his hands all over me, almost as if he were putting his stamp on me, marking me as his, which was rather silly given what we were about to be engaged in, or perhaps not. Maybe he wanted to give me something to come home to.

I didn't feel very jealous about Richard making love to another woman (well, the odds were two to one that he would) since I couldn't see it. Perhaps this evening I could readily imagine the man I was making love with was Richard rather than one of the others, as was more probable. Perhaps the fact that he was likely to see another man making love to me affected him more than he'd thought.

Truth to tell, I was a little surprised at how calmly I was taking it. If you discount what had happened the last time, which I could since the man involved still had no idea whom he'd been shagging, I had never been with another man since I'd met Richard at university. We'd taken to each other right off even if it had been after graduation before we actually got married. Tommy had asked why we'd bothered, since everyone we knew thought we were married already. That kind of connection is kind of special. Arthur and Tommy had met their wives through us, since I was friends even then with Liz and Helen, and Tommy and Arthur were Richard's best buds, as they still are.

"All right, ladies," Arthur announced. "Time for your husbands to unwrap the goods."

The lads started that same stroking before disrobing (what a strange word for taking off two bits of cloth that put together would hardly make up a decent-sized handkerchief) us rather than move right in for the kill, as it might have seemed. Or at least Richard did, if it was Richard, but the sounds coming from either side suggested that the others were doing the same.

They were a very long time about it, and none of them would have made it with Helen's five-minute timer. The understanding was that it would be our husbands who disrobed us, but from a few chuckles I'd overheard the boys weren't going to hold to that plan, and we couldn't know whether they were without taking off our blindfolds and spoiling the whole evening. Actually, things went so well, for me at least, that I didn't care whether they'd decided to trash that rule or not. I even ended up wondering whether they hadn't actually trashed the rule, and we'd just been meant to think that they were going to. The uncertainty was titillating, planned or not.

At first, Richard, or whoever, just stroked his hands up and down my sides, warming me, then heating me. Next, he extended his thumbs inward enough to brush across my bathing bra. I hissed with pleasure. He gave a little satisfied sigh, apparently pleased at my excitement. He stroked back down my curves and sent his hands around to cup my bottom, kneading me momentarily. He slipped his fingers under my bottoms to stroke my bum. My exhilaration was compounded by not knowing which of three possible men was the man in front of me, worshipping my body.

He slid his hands back out, leaving tingles behind, while he stroked upward to cup my breasts, bouncing them slightly in my bra top, then fondling them, sliding his thumb across each to target my upstanding nipple. Each time his thumbs caressed my nipple a shot of fire sped through my body, landing like lightning in my pussy. This was a man who knew how to give pleasure. Rather than dawdle solely over my breasts, he dropped one hand onto my bottoms to slip into my core between my legs. He cupped my mons in his hand. I must have felt like I was on fire. His other hand gave up on stroking my breast through my bra and he slipped two fingers under the fabric to caress my breast flesh to flesh. When he grasped my nipple lightly I moaned. He stroked forward and back across my pussy. He stroked up and down the inside of my thighs, stroking upward on the sensitive skin until he met the fabric of my bottoms. He slipped his other hand all the way inside my other bra cup, to hold and squeeze my breast. I could feel the nipple prodding his palm. He was stoking the fires that were threatening to make me cry out. I moaned again.

He slid his lower hand into my bottoms and started sliding his fingers up and down my crease, which was warm, swollen and wet with excitement. Not wanting to be completely selfish, I reached into his bathers, took his erection and stroked it slowly and lightly, running a fingertip around the helmet and rubbed the drop of pre-ejaculate that had formed on the tip on the underside of him. He started back, tearing himself from my hands. He moaned with arousal. I moaned again, pleased beyond measure. One more touch, a flick of my clit, and I knew I'd be over the top. He had to have known it.

Instead of a buzzer signalling frustration like last time, his fingers circled my centre, then flicked three times over my clit and I was over the top, orgasming spectacularly, a brief scream followed by moans as my body yielded to the pleasure and my mind blanked. I would have fallen, my knees completely unreliable, but he caught me up and settled me on one of the couches. I felt embarrassed by my complete lack of control in front of the others but I realized that all of us had been pleasured to completion, even Helen, who had always told us she was slow to climax, always slow to let go of her control. Perhaps the blindness had robbed her of her control before her man, whoever he was, had pushed her over the edge.




Mona Lisa: What Happens Next



The last time we'd changed partners after five minutes. We hadn't intended to do that at this stage, but having a climax before we'd even lost our clothes, such as they were, hadn't been anticipated either. Certainly having additional pleasure wasn't something to object to, but it made me a little wary of just how far I would end up going tonight.

After my recovery, which wasn't helped by the number of aftershocks he encouraged, I stood in front of whoever again. He began running his hands up my legs, enjoying the feel of my soft, smooth, skin, as I enjoyed his strong, firm touch, causing little flickers of the fire that had started to consume me to reignite. He slipped his hands to the inside of my thighs and stroked all the way up to my bathing suit. My legs trembled with the feelings he created within me. My breath hissed out from between my teeth. His thumb caressed my mound through my suit. I couldn't stop myself from pressing down onto his thumb.

The muscles in my belly quivered when his hand traced a path up to my navel. He inserted a finger-tip into my navel and tickled it. He trailed that finger back and forth across my front to my bra, just between my breasts. At the same time he was continuing to pay attention to my pussy through my suit bottoms. Being attended to in two places at once was hot and I was starting to get wet.

He slid his hand into my bikini bottoms to cup my swollen lips while he inserted his second finger through my slit into my pussy. I bucked toward him as if it had been his penis. He pulled aside one cup of my bra and latched onto my nipple with his lips and pulled. I gasped and moaned, ready to lose myself again. He fluttered his tongue on the tip of my nipple and started pinching and pulling on my other nipple with his fingers while continuing his attentions to my pussy. I was just on the edge, another ten seconds, or maybe the feel of his tongue on me, in me, would have done it. I was so close I was trembling.

Then, for a moment he pulled down my bottoms and jammed his face into my privates, still shaved. His tongue struck, flashing lightly over my clit, shooting lightning into my sensitized flesh and I came again, loud, hard. I collapsed on the couch. This time it seems I'd come alone.

The man with me pulled my bottoms up again, having achieved his objective. He was likely proud of himself, and he certainly deserved to be.

He climbed onto the couch with me. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his own suit. I gave my partner's cock a quick stroke and squeeze. I didn't have the strength just then to do any more. I pressed my body up against his, my firm nipples pressing into his chest. I managed to pin his cock against his belly. I let out half a moan and a gasp as soon as we made contact. Maybe he thought I was forward but I was desperate to get off again even after two massive orgasms. I'd been driven up to the edge and over twice now and I was getting addicted. I was so much more sensitive than at first. It seemed it would only take a lick and a promise to send me over again. His hands roamed across my body, still in no hurry to pull off my bathing suit.

My partner stroked his hands up and down my sides, reveling in the smooth skin and soft curves, sliding down to my upper thighs and caressing my hips and bum. I writhed against him, trying to convey my need. When I began to tremble with the intensity of my arousal he played with the ties on my top, only to leave them tied and then slip down to do the same with the ties on my bottoms. I let out a soft moan and pressed up against his cock when his hands roamed over my bum.

Instead of untying my bikini, he slipped a finger in either side of my bottoms and wiggled them back and forth. Then he slipped his hands in to the top knuckles and stroked my cheeks. My movements were starting to get frantic as I pressed my mons against his cock. He pulled his hands out of my bottoms and finally pulled out the ties on the sides, but didn't untie them completely. Then he caressed my body again slowly slipping his hands upward until he reached my top. He slid his thumbs around to the front and lifted up on my breasts, bouncing them gently, and then, slowly, tugged the strings loose in the back.

With one hand he lifted the fabric from my breasts and buried his face between them before turning enough to capture my left nipple in his mouth. Fire shot through me again, hotter and more urgent than before. He caught me to keep me from falling off the couch before pulling the other string that tied at my neck. He let go of my nipple just long enough to lick his way across to the other breast where he latched onto my other nipple, sucking and fluttering his tongue across the end while he finished untying my bottoms. He threw both parts of my suit on the floor and we were naked together.

Supposedly this was the end of this stage of the celebration, but neither of us was going to stop now. Even if their choice mechanism hadn't yet been employed I was having this man, whichever of the three he was, and he was having me.

His cock was fully engorged, ready and willing to explore the cave and fuck me senseless. He rolled over onto me and proceeded to do just that. He was breathing hard as he rolled on top of me and inserted his cock into my waiting vagina. I almost sucked him in, I was so ready. There we were, skin to skin to skin, hot and flagrantly sexual. He shuddered and tensed up as if he was trying to stave off a massive orgasm that could have ended the night for him, and whatever his powers of recuperation, would certainly have slowed him down. It was nice to know the arousal was working both ways. I was tight with desire and smooth with the lubrication of my heat as he slowly drove himself into me, warm, hard, filling and inexorable. He pushed in all the way the first time. Then he started a rhythm of long, slow strokes, hitting my most sensitive spots. I pushed back, rubbing myself against his pubis. I could feel small tremors in my pussy, leftover from my orgasms, and each tremor meant feeling that warm hardness inside in a slightly different delicious way. I relaxed into the pleasure.

After a bit I could feel him hardening up even more and I think he was trying to put off coming. I heard him gasp out "I'm not going to last long" in a sort of strangled whisper. I grinned to myself at the effect I was having on him, bringing an unknown man to orgasm. His fantasies must have been working overtime. I squeezed my vaginal muscles, and he groaned. My own groans were letting him know that I was near, just getting there, God I was over and he was over and we both spiralled away to another place for a time, replete for the moment.

Arthur let us all recover for a while. Rather than take the night as over, he determined to play out the script they'd developed, never mind that they hadn't stuck to the script for any length of time so far.

"Well, ladies," he addressed us. "It's early yet. The gentlemen will require a bit of an incentive to continue the evening, as well as a little time to, shall we say, recharge."

Someone circulated among us, possibly Tommy, and handed us a half glass of wine.

"Got to keep the fluids up," he whispered.

"Fortunately," Arthur continued, "our scenario has exactly the right interlude required, although none of us had anticipated the turn our last setpiece took. What we need now is a way for us to choose one among you to make our own this evening. Between last time and tonight, so far you may have had one of us or two of us, possibly including your husband and possibly not. It turns out that we are more similar than we'd thought, so you are unlikely to know which. After this choosing, you may have had each of us, or just two of us, including one of us twice, or one of us three times. You will never know, just as we will never know exactly either."

No one commented, somewhat to my surprise. Perhaps they were all like me, interested to see where else the evening could be going.

"What we're going to do now is a slave auction. The three of you gorgeous beauties will be put up for auction and each of you will belong to whoever bids highest for you. Since we can't use money, what we'll use is choices. Each of us has a three-point choice, a two-point choice and a one-point choice that we can use to purchase the woman of our dreams. I should say again that we don't expect you to actually be a slave; it's a way to choose our next partners, that's all. Are we agreed?"

It did seem a little over the top, but on the other hand posing nude for our three salacious males invoked seriously hot urges. Would they feel obliged to make their purchase theirs immediately? Just how well would they treat a lady whose favours had cost them their entire worldly goods, as measured in point choices, anyway? What would happen if by some fluke one of the men ended up with two of us? That could actually happen if two of the men used up their points bidding against each other for one of us and neglected the others. How would they deal with a tie? We'd actually ruined that possibility with our noms de nuit.

We all muttered agreement.

"Right, then we'd better wrap the merchandise."

Immediately someone came along and draped us each in a sheet. They must have been the ones Richard had in his bag since I recognized the scent I used in the dryer.

Then one of the lads reached for a hand under the sheet, missing the first attempt of course - boys will be boys, and the chance of a bit of a feel is never to be ignored. On the other hand, it does feel good that the boys still want to get a bit of a grope when they can. After he'd had his little freebie he led us each up to the slightly raised dais by the bar and Arthur suggested we pose as we saw fit.

"Remember, the point is to be wanted by the men. A high price likely means a better life. You're slaves, but you haven't been beaten down yet, and if your price is high enough you never will be. So you've got pride and ambition. The men are sitting in front of you."

We shuffled a little and hit each other a couple of times, not hard, just that we couldn't see since we were all still blindfolded. When we seemed to be finished Arthur asked if we were ready and we all agreed.

"Behold, gentlemen, your merchandise." It wasn't too difficult for whoever was doing it to pull all three sheets off of us at the same time.

A chorus of wolf whistles erupted immediately, which may not have been in character for the Romans but made us feel pretty good. I couldn't see what the others had chosen, of course, but I was standing about three quarters on with my front knee bent to make my thigh attractive and with my toes pointed my calf tightened, and I stuck my chest out to display my breasts. I could feel the heat of their stares. I felt sort of controlled, like a blindfolded slave would, and sort of powerful, since we were pretty obviously leading the lads around by their cocks, and incredibly sexy.

In another departure from Roman tradition Arthur declared there would be no touching until after the gentlemen had made their selections. It surprised me that I felt a little disappointed, but perhaps it was because all the touching so far had been bloody hot and it had been a few minutes since I'd last had a man's hands on me. I was getting seriously addicted. I hoped Richard would be able to keep up in the weeks ahead.

"Now, gentlemen, bid. All that is required is for you to put your tokens into the small bowl in front of each of these fine ladies, bred and trained to be the most exciting bed companions you can imagine."

There was a little shuffling around which was probably the boys getting in an extra leer or two, then depositing their bid.

"What a surprise," Arthur said after there had been time to count the bids. "It's a tie. One of you ladies has attracted all of the interest. Unfortunately I can't disclose which of you it was." The thought that maybe I had been the sole focus of attention really made my juices flow. Of course it was unlikely, and as a matter of fact I was sure it had been staged to make us all feel better about what might have been dehumanizing if it had been done at all realistically.

"Well, I suppose all we can do is do the bidding over again, but this time add a rule that since the men each have three bids, of different values, they have to go into three different bowls. To make it less likely that there'll be a tie, points bid to make a tie will drop out of the next round of bidding so it becomes possible for one man who bids carefully to end up with all three women, and the other two get none. Here we go."

After a couple of minutes of shuffling and hesitation, Arthur told us that our masters had chosen us. One of the lads took my hand and led me off towards our couch. He held my hand high and I felt very much the princess. I guess my lad felt very much the prince, since instead of a lengthy seduction, the way it had been before, he simply bent me over one arm of the oversized chair Arthur and Liz sometimes curled up in (and made love in if Liz is to be believed) and slid in. With all the excitement of the slave auction I was certainly ready for him. He wasn't the only one since I had to wiggle a bit to one side to avoid hitting one of the other girls' heads who'd been bent over the other arm.

My man went at it with vigour once he was in. Usually I don't do well with forceful sex, but I guess I was still floating somewhere in orgasm heaven because about the time he started to come I climaxed from out of nowhere and the two of us wrung each other out.

Whichever of the lads it was turned out to have a fine feeling for seduction as well, and after a great deal of teasing and caressing by us both we had another go, slower and a lot more loving. We both kind of eased over the top. As tired as we both were by then, we were lucky we made it. We snuggled up together for a few minutes after before we separated to bring the evening to a close.

There was something incredibly emotional about the whole thing, over and above what had been just plain marvellous sex. It must have had to do with not knowing who my partner had been either time. I couldn't even figure out if it had been the same man before and after the slave auction. Was it Tommy? I'd ogled his bum more than a few times but I'd never really thought he had any great interest in me. He had Helen, and that seemed to be plenty to keep him happy despite his interest in our escapades. It could have been Arthur, only a few months older than the rest of us but the first over that magical divide between the irrepressible twenties and the responsible thirties. Whoever it had been had certainly been masterful. It couldn't have been Richard, of course, since whoever it was had been shaved and Richard didn't shave. I kind of regretted that he wasn't at least a candidate for one of the slots.

After we'd all recovered, and for most of us that took a considerable time, our husbands removed our blindfolds and kissed us gently, some sort of absolution for whatever we'd done. If we had. We were all naked together, and even though we knew it had been that way for quite some time, we discovered that it felt different with our eyes open, when we could actually see the appreciative stares rather than just feel the eyes burning. I wonder if the feeling is the same as when you're a very young child, and you hide in plain sight but as long as you can't see the other person, you're hidden. I've never considered I was naked when I was in the dark, even if I didn't have any clothes on.

I couldn't see that any one of the men was more appreciative of me than any other, except, as usual, Richard. We women went off to get dressed. Like the last time, we didn't want to talk about what had happened until we had a better feel for what it had been. The guys seemed a touch sheepish, but maybe it was just guy modesty. In some ways guys are prissier than girls when it comes to clothes. When we got back they'd cracked out a beer each and poured our wine, finishing the bottle. There was another but we didn't get into it. Perhaps it was that we didn't want to blur the memories any by seeing them through an alcohol haze, or maybe it was just that the memories were a better buzz than anything we'd get from more wine.

Our conversation was relaxed and comfortable, but no one mentioned the evening's entertainment, likely because it was a great deal more than an entertainment. I don't know what anyone else was thinking, but I was wondering what it might be like to do it again in the dark, or perhaps in the light when everyone was well rested and we could make sure we knew who was shagging whom and - the well rested part - we would each take all of the men. Or perhaps we'd never do it again.

Soon it was time to take our leave to hugs all around. I must say, the hugs, while not salacious, were warm and with feeling. We all felt a special warmth with each other, perhaps because we'd all shared a special experience, perhaps because in some strange way we'd all shared a bit of love that evening.

*****************

Richard and I sat silently in our automobile for a moment before we placed the key in the ignition and turned it. He looked over to me and squeezed my hand once before he put the car into gear and backed into the motorway. I turned on the radio and found my favorite station, one that played older music, just in time to hear Nat King Cole crooning one of our favorites.

"How did you guys eventually sort out who was going to be with each woman? Did you work it so that each of you had your two non-spouses? I couldn't have known the difference, except whoever I was with was shaved, though I haven't sorted out whether it was the same guy each time."

Richard stopped the car next the sidewalk and grinned at me. He slipped his pants down, down, down far enough for me to see that he was completely shaved. He gave me that Mona Lisa smile.

You might think that was enough for us and that the risks to our various marriages, strong as they were, outweighed any chance that we'd do it again. After all, we'd done it with the men blindfolded and then we'd done it with the women blindfolded and we'd all discovered that it was very different when both partners knew who they were with, a bit scary, actually, even if all we'd done that way was to be naked. So, in fact, we never did do it again. Or did we?



Mona Lisa



I was squeezing with all I had to keep from coming, and then gasped, "I'm not going to last long." She squeezed her vaginal muscles, and I groaned in frustration. Suddenly she stopped and leaned back far enough that I could feel her hand slip in between us and she began rubbing on her clit while rhythmically squeezing her vaginal muscles. I heard a little gasp, so I reached for her breasts again. She seemed to enjoy me pulling and pinching her nipples, much like Phoebe does, so I began doing that and focused my attention on what I was doing to her instead of what she was doing to me. 

Suddenly, she moaned and then began pistoning on my cock while rubbing frantically at her clit Then she drove herself down hard against me and began quivering as she came again. I couldn't take it anymore and I groaned as I drove myself up into her as far as I could and exploded. My toes curled, and my leg muscles spasmed so that I lifted up off of the mat before crashing back down and thrust into her again and again.

I felt her breasts press into my chest as both of us gasped for breath. She laid her head on my shoulder, but out a ways so I couldn't feel her head against my face. She wrapped her arms about me, and I held her close, contented. After a few minutes she sat up again, and then lifted up off of my cock. I felt her wipe me off with a damp cloth, and then she bent down and kissed the head of "Wee Dickie," before she walked away.

Strangely, we three blokes lay there silently, basking in the wonder of what we had just experienced. There was none of the locker room joking or anything of the sort. I know we all felt like something special had just happened and we didn't want to break the spell. It was probably fifteen minutes before we heard the ladies coming back into the room.

"I hope you enjoyed yourselves tonight," I heard Helen say softly. "I can say that we did. Please don't ask us who was with whom, for we have pledged never to tell. We will remove the blinders now if you will sit up for us to reach you."

We all sat, and our wives removed the blindfolds and then kissed us gently. They had dressed, and brushed out their hair. We three guys looked at each other sheepishly, feeling exposed before the ladies, but they had been looking at us that way for some time. Still it felt strange to see them looking at us.

I fumbled for my damp swim togs and struggled to pull them up my legs to the amusement of the three women. Once we men had our gear on, we all gathered round the kitchen table for a couple of beers while the women shared another bottle of white wine. Our conversation was relaxed and comfortable, and no one mentioned the evening's entertainment. Soon it was time to take our leave, but this time, it was to hugs all around. I must say, the hugs, while not salacious, were warm and with feeling.

*****************

Phoebe and I sat silently in our automobile for a moment before I placed the key in the ignition and turned it. I looked over to Phoebe and squeezed her hand once before I put the car into gear and backed into the motorway. I turned on the radio and found my favorite station, one that played older music, just in time to hear Nat King Cole crooning one of my favorites.

"How did you girls do it with the names? With three of us, you might have drawn mine? How would I have known the difference, except whoever I was with was shaved."

Phoebe lifted her skirt far enough to let me see her bare pussy, and gave me that Mona Lisa smile.



Mona Lisa's Eyebrows



 

There you have it, Mona Lisa did have eyebrows. So we have learned that Leonardo da Vinci's portrait of a Florentine merchant's wife originally did show eyebrows, the subject of the portrait did not pluck them in some sixteenth century fashion statement and da Vinci didn't glamorize the woman by hiding the hair. This is only some of the new information supposedly uncovered by French engineer Pascal Cotte.

Cotte, who as a boy in the sixties, was fascinated with the Mona Lisa, spending hours simply staring at it the first time he saw the painting in the Louvre. Later in his life he used his training to develop a camera that uses light sensors to scan the painting and actually see what is beneath the layers of paint. Cotte indicates that the scans he made of the Mona Lisa actually reveal traces of eyebrows that were apparently obliterated by a restoration made a long, long time ago.

Wait a minute, this is not some nut sneaking out Polaroid photos of the painting and analyzing them. Cotte was given access to the painting in the Louvre's lab three years ago where he scanned it and subsequently spent over three thousand hours analyzing it. By using the sensors he detects light from the visible, as well as the ultraviolet and infrared ranges of the light spectrum which allows him to see beneath the layers of paint.

Not only has he revealed the eyebrows and eyelashes in the painting, something that had been a great curiosity for viewers and art experts alike, he has also made a number of other findings perhaps revealing some of da Vinci's earlier intentions for the painting. Apparently da Vinci changed his mind while working on the painting changing the position of two fingers on Mona Lisa's left hand.

Cotte also indicates that originally Mona Lisa's face was a bit wider, with a more expressive smile than the final product shows. Imagine that famous smile replaced with a shit-eating grin. You've got to wonder if da Vinci had not made the changes would there be a completely different painting hanging in the Mona Lisa's place in the Louvre? Apparently Mona Lisa was also originally holding a blanket that has apparently faded from view.

Cotte has assembled these findings together in an exhibit at the Metreon Centre in San Francisco where he shows the above discoveries along with twenty-one additional secrets about the painting that he has uncovered. Apparently her dress had a hint of lace to it and some currently visible blotches on her were actually varnish marks. He was even able to determine the original colors da Vinci used and has created a reproduction using some bright blues and whites in place of the faded and stained colors now visible.

Of course as the mysteries are unveiled you have got to ask yourself if we are losing anything by scraping too deeply into the art. In some cases we may be revealing some aspects that have been destroyed by age, improper handling or previous restoration attempts, but now we are able to chronicle the artist's initial rough drafts, his screw-ups, his compromises, and perhaps failures in the development of the masterpiece. While this may educate experts on the development of great are, are we demystifying the genius and undermining the art in exposing what the artist did not intend to expose?

Imagine digging even deeper into this and other pieces of art, perhaps we can uncover more. Who wouldn't like to get a peek at Mona Lisa's breasts? The original may have been a nude, think of what da Vinci could have done with her breasts, the same alluring artistry presenting a perfect nipple. Deep scan's of Rodin's famous sculpture "The Kiss" will reveal his original intention, "The Blow-job" or perhaps relocate "The Thinker"'s left hand and Rodin's sculpture becomes "The Masturbator." And then Rodin's "The Bather," well, no, we won't even imagine changing that one.

Certainly the perverse considerations above are profane but, as scientific methods and equipment continues to advance, will the great art of the world continue to be probed and exposed in the artistic equivalent of what I detailed in the preceding paragraph. While these advanced techniques can analyze the art without physically damaging the work, will the integrity of the masterpiece be degraded as images the artist did not intend to present become part of the work? Do we really need to know the 25 secrets of the Mona Lisa, or should the art simply stand as it presently exists? The art world and the world of science need to think about what they are truly accomplishing and what the repercussions their "discoveries" will have on art in general.

  

Sources

1. "Finally, one Mona Lisa mystery solved," Houston Chronicle, October 23, 2007, pg A2.

2. "Digital scans reveal Mona Lisa secrets," Guardian Limited, October 22, 2007 http://arts.guardian.co.uk/art/news/story/0,,2196892,00.html  

3. "25 Secrets of Mona Lisa Revealed," Jeanna Bryner, Live Science, October 18, 2007 http://www.livescience.com/history/071018-mona-lisa.html