5 comments/ 19455 views/ 0 favorites Matched Pairs Ch. 01-02 By: AutumnWriter Chapter 1 Fred Morgan stepped into the bedroom from the master bath. It was six in the morning. He dressed in the early morning light, not bothering to turn on the lamp. He stepped into his khaki slacks and put on a plaid shirt. In the old days it would be suits and ties, but modern times were different. It was his busy time of the year. His fold-over valise was already packed, along with a small suitcase. In some ways, it was just like a morning in one of the many hotels he stayed at when he was on the road. He had completed the northern and eastern half of his territory the prior day. He stopped at home at the midway point before taking on the western and southern swing. It would take him a week and a few days. He didn't even take the samples out of the minivan. After a quick bowl of Raisin Bran in the kitchen, he would be on the Interstate, en route to Rochester, his first stop. One thing that was different from the nameless motel rooms was that his wife, Maggie, lay in their bed watching him as he dressed. Since they were married he always tried to schedule a day home at the half-way point. He could have rerouted himself more efficiently if he avoided the home stop, but he wouldn't consider it. This time it had only been a night. There were numerous construction delays on the Interstate—par for the course in an election year. He dragged himself in at eight-thirty in the evening, but it was still worth it. Fred glanced at Maggie's reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair and took pleasure in what he saw. He knew she was nude under the sheets. She had that satisfied woman look and it was well that she should wear it. As Fred came through the door at eight-thirty she met him in her—or his—favorite negligee. By eight forty-five it had been cast aside. They never fell asleep until eleven thirty. There is a certain pleasing, serene expression a woman wears the morning after a fulfilling night. "Do you have a shift at the hospital tonight?" he called to her. "Yes, I picked up some extra hours since you're going to be away." Maggie was a nurse on the post-op floor of the local university hospital. "Where will you stay tonight?" "Rochester for two days, then Erie," he recited. "I'll drive to Cleveland and then down to Columbus and then on to Indianapolis. Two days there. Then, I'll swing south and pick up Kentucky, Cincinnati and West Virginia. Pittsburgh and Harrisburg are next; a quick stop in Ithaca and then back home." She had met him at the door when he arrived for his home visit in the red baby-doll package that he had given her as an engagement present. Few fifty-two year-old women could, or would, wear the outfit. Maggie looked great in it. She had that long, sleek greyhound kind of body that looked like the nightie had been designed just for her. The color was perfect to go with her white skin and jet black hair that she kept at shoulder level. Fred wasn't quite used to her slender figure yet, which was not a bad thing. They had been married just over three years. It was the second chance for them both. A man should try not to get used to such things. "I forgot to tell you. The Martins had to cancel out on the cabin," she announced. "Something about an out-of-town wedding in the family the same week." It was a disappointment. They enjoyed vacationing with the Martins for a week each summer. This year they had rented a cabin on Raquette Lake in the Adirondacks. It was a big cabin for two couples, and golf-course privileges went with it. There was a dock for Fred's Boat and it was in a semi-private cove. Besides sharing the expenses, the Martins had proven to be good at sharing good times. "Can you see if you can get someone to fill in for them on short notice? We're supposed to leave for the cabin the day after I get finished with this road trip. There's no way that I can do this from out of town." "I'll try, but you know that my circle of friends is quite different from yours." "I'm sure that whoever you find will be just fine. At this point we just have to move fast." Fred conceded. He moved over to the bed where Maggie had peeled down the sheets to reveal her two small breasts with the hard, dark nipples. Fred bent down to kiss them in turn. Although they were small, Fred always paid great attention to them. He found that his pleasure came not from their size or shape, but her reaction to his attending them. True to form, she made soft purring sounds as his lips gave each a quick caress. "Take good care of these, and I'll be back in no time," he said. They kissed on the lips and then he rose off the bed to pick up his luggage. "Keep me posted on finding someone to take the Martins' place," he called over his shoulder as he left. ************ Maggie's shift didn't start until six that evening, so she had the whole day free. She called her best friend, Pat Wilson, who lived about five miles away and drove over for coffee. Pat was about the same age as Maggie. She taught high-school English, so she was off for the summer. While Maggie was tall and slender, Pat was her opposite. She was shorter at five-two and had sandy colored wavy hair that she wore down to between her shoulder blades. Though she wasn't tall, Pat's frame sported generous curves. She worked hard to keep them from sagging and to stay slender. She had well-developed breasts beneath a round, dimpled face. Her hips flared out, completing the hourglass figure. She had a vivacious personality, compared with Maggie's reserve. They were opposites in a number of ways, a possible reason that they were such good friends. "Pat, I have something to ask you." Maggie said as they sat at Pat's kitchen table. "We have a cabin rented for the week after next on Raquette Lake. The couple that we usually go with can't make it. It's a wonderful cabin—complete with electricity, hot water and indoor plumbing. How would you and Charlie like to join us?" Pat and Maggie met in a support group that they joined while they went through their respective divorces. They found an easy chemistry between them and formed a strong friendship. Even when they started dating again they remained close. They shared everything from recipes to shopping for clothes and home furnishings. They told each other the intimate details of the time spent with their then-lovers, soon-to-be new husbands. They even compared notes on how their men pleased them and the techniques they used to respond. It was while sharing these intimate details that they deduced that each woman's lover was their own former husband. "That sounds risky—but delicious!" an aroused Pat exclaimed. "Have you broached it with Fred?" "Not yet," answered Maggie. "I wanted to ask you first. No point in my setting off an earthquake if you can't go." "There will be a big earthquake when he finds out. I know my ex-husband. You'll have a lot of convincing to do," laughed Pat. "He won't want any part of it!" "He said that he would go along with whomever I could find," Maggie retorted. "I don't think that he ever imagined..." Pat countered. "What about Charlie?" Maggie asked. "He's not as stubborn as Fred, but he won't jump at it either." "I can handle Charlie," Pat declared. "Fred is the stumbling block." "You're right," Maggie agreed. "Maybe we'll have to wait until next year. This is a lot to ask Fred to accept without any warning. We've never even been out as couples. Maybe we should try dinner or something first." "These men of ours are so immature!" declared Pat. "Well, they're just men!" answered Maggie. "We can't live with them, and we can't live without them!" "You did say indoor plumbing, didn't you?" asked Pat, covering her bases. "Including a shower," Maggie assured. "It's such an opportunity." Pat argued. "It would be a shame to let it go by. I'll bet that Fred would accept it once his bluster wears off. Why don't you give it a try?" "All right, I'll try," Maggie promised. "It looks like I'll have to break out my red baby-dolls again." The two women had a good laugh. Although it was humorous, they both knew that Maggie's tactics would be put into action when Fred returned. As for Pat, she had an emerald green number that she would use to convince Charlie. "It will be worth it," Maggie said. "We've wanted to socialize as couples for a long time, but didn't dare bring it up. Now we'll break the ice in a big way. These husbands of ours will just have to get over their hang-ups." "You've got that right!" Pat agreed. "I don't think that any of us have serious hard feelings left over from the divorces. We have to help them get over it. It's our duty; we owe it to them." "The cabin is way up on the northwest corner of Raquette Lake," Maggie added. "It couldn't be more secluded. It's a half hour trek in the Land Rover from Route 28 over a dirt road." "That will put us all in close quarters whether we like it or not," Pat agreed. "One thing that comes to mind," Pat continued, "what with being in swimsuits all the time and having some history with the other spouse..." she hesitated. "I know what you mean!" Pat giggled. "Our boys might get some ideas of having one 'for old times' sake." "Well, it is a risk," Maggie warned. "We'll just have to keep them occupied so they don't get any big ideas." Pat said with a grin. "Just don't let Fred wear his Speedos, because I'm taking my bikini. That would be embarrassing!" "I need to go shopping for a new bathing suit. Mine are faded from chlorine at the pool," Maggie said. "Why don't we go shopping tomorrow?" The two women broke out laughing at the thought of Fred 'bulging' out of his skimpy trunks. They had convinced each other that the trip was a good idea. They spent the rest of the morning searching the internet for places near Raquette Lake where they could eat and shop while the men played golf or went fishing. ************* "My red baby-dolls have more modesty than this one!" declared Maggie, as she held up a series of small fabric triangles held together by string. She flung the bikini back on the shelf. It was their third store and so far rejects far outnumbered possibilities. Pat was having a similar lack of success. "May I help you, ladies?" a sales clerk called out, startling the shoppers. Pat and Maggie looked at each other, showing doubts. The youthful blonde looked to them like a high-school cheer leader. They wondered how she could relate to the needs of a couple of middle-aged women looking for swimwear. Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, why not?" she sighed. "Do you think that you could help two old ladies?" "No problem!" the clerk replied. "What were you looking for?" "Nothing with a skirt!" Pat insisted. "And by the way, you were supposed to contradict me when I said 'old ladies'." "Seriously, we're going to the lake for a week, so I should have at least two and probably three suits," Maggie informed her. That goes for me, too!" said Pat. "Okay, we'll mix it up and get a few styles out." said the clerk, as she went into action. "Here's a one-piece. Don't let it put you off. The legs are cut nice and high. Here's a nice bikini, and another." "Those are all nice suits," explained Maggie. "The problem is that they're all young looking. Both of us are in our fifties." "I know," answered the clerk sympathetically. "Your problem is that most women your age need a more forgiving suit, so we carry those kinds of styles for that age group." "What do you mean by that?" Pat asked. "It's just that they have figure problems that they need to hide," the clerk answered. "You two ladies have better shapes than most girls my age." "Wow!" exclaimed Pat, elbowing Maggie in the ribs playfully. "I knew that this girl was an expert all along." "It would be a shame to cover yourselves up," the clerk prodded. "We have husbands to consider," Maggie reminded them. "It's just for them that we need these suits!" Pat insisted. "I'm taking these!" The clerk's remarks excited them. In the end Maggie was convinced on three suits as well. Each did buy a one-piece suit for swimming, but Maggie noted that that the cutout for the legs extended well past their hipbones. "It's for 'full muscular freedom' in the water," intoned the clerk. The three of them broke into laughter at the weak excuse. They also selected two bikinis each. Maggie thought they were a little too risqué, but was finally convinced. "These aren't for swimming," Pat declared, "unless you count that rendition of the backstroke that I specialize in." Pat's remark sent the three women over the top again, as they laughed their way to the register. At lunch they decided to have an extra glass of wine with their meal to celebrate their shopping success. "I think that the sales clerk was flattering us on our figures to get us to buy these swimsuits," Maggie declared. "No, no!" said Pat, shaking her head. "I think she was right on target—more or less." The women started giggling, the extra wine helping them along. "What does it matter?" Maggie mused. "At that secluded lake, it will only be our husbands getting a look." "That's what I'm counting on," Pat grinned. "And if he doesn't think that my figure is up to bikini standards, I have a way to make him change his mind." "Are you talking about the special backstroke again?" Maggie asked. "You bet I am!" Pat answered. "Or the lack thereof." The women were laughing again, drawing attention from the other restaurant patrons. With the wine spurring them on, they were unconcerned. When their wine was finished, they paid the tab and drove home. *********** The women had taken Maggie's car to the shopping mall so they stopped at Pat's house to drop her off "Come on in and have some coffee," Pat invited as they pulled into the driveway. "That sounds like a good idea," Maggie agreed. "That buzz from the wine at lunch hasn't quite worn off yet and I have a shift at the hospital tonight." "Good. Let's try our new suits on while we wait for the coffee to brew," suggested Pat. As they walked into Pats house they both experienced a sudden shiver as the house had been chilled by the air conditioning and contrasted to the hot summer sun. Breathing in the chilly air made the buzzing in their heads louder. "We won't have the cabin chilled down like this when we get to the lake," Maggie advised. "We'll just plunge into the lake to cool off, then. It's good that we replenished our equipment," Pat answered as she scooped the coffee grounds into the coffee maker and switched it on. "Let's try out one of those suits!" Pat and Charlie lived in a ranch-style house, so the bedrooms were on the same floor as the kitchen. Pat disappeared into the master bedroom, and motioned Maggie to the guest bedroom to change. "Put on your most daring one," Pat called out through the wall to the adjacent room. "I'll do the same." Pat was the first to emerge from the bedroom. The coffee maker was just finishing. As she walked over to it she found herself tugging at the sparse material of her suit and she sensed her exposure. She bent to the lower cabinet to pull out two coffee mugs and one of her breasts fell out of her top. "This suit wasn't made for house work," she excused the wayward top. She tucked herself in and set about preparing the sugar and cream. While she did so she mused over how long it had been since she had worn anything as revealing. She concluded that she had never done so, at least outside her bedroom. As she realized it, she felt a stirring in her belly. Before she could ponder her new bathing suit any further Maggie stepped into the kitchen. "I can't believe that we let that sales clerk talk into these suits!" Maggie groused. "Can these be legal?" "Stop it!" Pat retorted. "You sound like my mother." Pat placed her hand on her chin and perused Maggie's presentation. "Very good," she complimented. "Turn around." Maggie slowly pirouetted in place. "I feel like I belong on a burlesque stage." Maggie was not done complaining. "You did say that the cabin is isolated," consoled Pat. "It's not as though we're going to be on a public beach." "I knew it!" Maggie grumbled. "I know that I can't return it, but I'll never wear this suit!" "You've got to be kidding!" Pat scolded. "You look fantastic in that suit. If you were twenty you would wear it and not give it a second thought." "But I'm not twenty. I'm fifty-two," Maggie corrected. "I should act my age." "You should act the age you feel," Pat argued. "Thirty years ago things like this were off limits to us. Someday in the future we won't be able to wear them without making fools of ourselves. We're going to a secluded lake with our husbands for a week. What better time than now?" "You're right," Maggie admitted. "I'm worried about what Fred will think when I pull this out." "I'll tell you!" Pat pointed out with authority in her voice. "He'll think that you're interested in having some...quality time with him, and that's what Charlie will think when he sees me in this." "By quality time, are you talking about that backstroke again?" laughed Maggie. "I'll start with the backstroke, but I'm a good swimmer and I know a lot of 'strokes'. I know the side stroke, too, and the crawl. I'm especially good at surface diving." She paused a second to let Maggie absorb her point. "Let's see this suit again," Pat demanded. Maggie's bikini was as simple as it was revealing. It was solid deep red, a color that was just right for her with her jet black hair and pale skin. It had a halter top with triangular patches of cloth in the place where bra cups might have been. The top closed in front with a brass ring in the center that fastened to loops on the side of each of the triangular front panels. With her small breasts she needed little support or coverage. The suit opened enough for the sides of her breasts to spill over the sides. The bottom of the suit was just as exciting. It was the same color as the top. It was really two connected small coverings for her front and rear. It was held together by ties on either flank. Maggie's hipbones jut out at the front. The joint of her thighs to her hip were exposed. In back, the contours of each buttock cheek was well defined, especially when she walked. "You are so toned!" exclaimed Pat, observing Maggie's flat stomach and sculpted legs. "You need to do some trimming, though," she added as she spied Maggie's black hair escaping from the sides of the skimpy bikini bottom." "Oh, I hate doing that!" cried Maggie. "But, I know what you mean. I saw it before I came out. I'll have to work on it tomorrow after I take a shower." "I have some, too," Pat confessed. "Maybe we should get it waxed!" "No way! You've talked me into enough already," was the stern reply. "I'll tell you what! We'll do each other's." offered Pat. "Don't say 'No'. It will go a lot better that way, and we can get together again to do some more planning for this vacation." "All right!" Maggie surrendered. "Now let me see your suit. It's only fair." Pat turned in place as Maggie had. Her suit was similar to Maggie's in some ways. It was a turquoise color that went well with her hair and complexion. Being short in stature and well-curved, her suit was more complicated than Maggie's. It was cut fuller to accommodate Pat's generously endowed breasts and widely-flared hips. It had a halter top like Maggie's, but one that added needed support. As it lifted her breasts it had the effect of pushing them together and outward. It gave the appearance of Pat presenting them to be ogled by whoever might be fortunate enough to be on hand. Although her bottom covered more that Maggie's, it revealed plenty and left no doubt as to her shape or the flexing of the muscles in her buttocks as she walked. It was held together on either side by brass rings, similar to the one on Maggie's top. Matched Pairs Ch. 01-02 "You look fantastic," Maggie assured her. "I wouldn't worry about being asked to 'go swimming'—if you know what I mean." Maggie looked at her watch. "I've got to get going. I have just enough time to go home and change and get to my shift." ******** TO BE CONTINUED CHAPTER 2 "I don't mind telling you—this gives me the creeps!" Maggie told Pat as she shed her panties and took her position lying on the guestroom bed. Pat knelt beside her with a razor in her hand and a can of shaving cream in the other. A towel and washcloth sat on the floor alongside a wash basin full of water. Pat was bare below the waist, having just received the same treatment as she was about to render to her friend. "I don't know why." Pat answered calmly as she carefully worked the razor. "You just did me." "That was different," Maggie asserted. "I'm a nurse. I do that kind of thing all the time." As she patiently worked Pat stretched the skin of Maggie's vulva this way and that to make the coarse hairs stand at attention and ready for shearing off. As Pat's fingers delicately touched her, she saw Maggie bite her lip to avoid showing a reaction to her touch. "Spread your legs a little more so that I can get at this last part better," Pat instructed. She noticed that Maggie's eyes were closed and her breathing was regulated in an unnatural way, as if she was struggling to hold back her urge to pant. Pat pressed the top of Maggie's slit lightly. "What do you do to relieve yourself when Fred is out on the road?" Pat asked in a casual way. "What do you mean?" Maggie asked after a pause, feigning naiveté. "You know what I mean!" Pat scolded in a mild way. "I always had a little implement or two when Fred and I were married. Those road trips of his can be long and lonely." "I just save it up and jump him when he comes home," Maggie confessed. "You poor neglected thing!" Pat exclaimed. "You're thinking about it right now, aren't you?" she asked in a softer voice. It was more of a statement posed as a question. She continued to work the razor and gently pressed that special spot again." "I'm...Ohhhh...trying...Ahhhh...not...to think of it," Maggie panted. "Well, I know that you're about to climax." Pat said as she stroked her thumb up and down the sides of Maggie's labia inspecting her handiwork with the razor. "Why don't you go ahead and do it?—it's been so long for you," Pat urged as she added the thumb of her other hand to the gentle stroking under the guise of checking her work. "I... can't! I shouldn't!" Maggie panted. "I'll do myself at the same time. That'll make it easier," Pat soothed. She guided Maggie's hand to her labia. "I'm doing it to myself right now," Pat assured her. Pat watched as Maggie finished herself off. It didn't take long. Maggie tensed her muscles and held her breath. Her orgasm took about five seconds. After it passed she relaxed and slowly exhaled. She kept her eyes closed all the while. "Doesn't that feel better?" Pat asked, already knowing the answer. "Yes." Maggie admitted. "But I shouldn't have done it. Please don't ever tell anyone about this." "We're friends. We can have some secrets," Pat assured her. "Have you ever done it with women?" "No. I thought about it in college once," Maggie confessed. "Some girls in the dorm were doing it to each other every night and invited me to join in. While I was mulling it over they were found out by the dorm advisor out and the whole thing broke up. I never considered it again. What about you?" "No, it never came up before. I've just read about it in a few erotic stories that I came across. It's only a fantasy, but it can get me excited!" Each woman carefully cast furtive glances at the other in silence, waiting for the heavy question to fall from one of their lips to their ears. Pat broke the spell. "Hair and horns both trimmed!" she happily sang out. "Let me have that aloe lotion that I brought from the hospital. You should use some, too. It will help take away razor-burn," Maggie advised. Thus, the burning question was quenched for the time being. *********** The two women put their bikinis on to test the shaving they had just been performed on each other. As they inspected themselves in the mirror, they judged their mission accomplished. Pat had put a pot of coffee on earlier. They kept wearing their bikinis at the kitchen table as they drank their coffee. "We should get used to wearing them so that we look comfortable at the lake when we put them on," Pat declared. "We could go out on the patio to get some sun, but I have too many neighbors with teen-aged boys who can see across the hedge in the back yard." "It would be nice to get some sun in advance of the trip to the lake," Maggie sighed "Yes," Pat agreed, "and I wouldn't mind giving a few of those young studs a hard-on while they peered at us over the fence, too. The problem is, I might have some of them in class this fall." "Have you told Charlie yet?" Maggie asked as they sipped her coffee. "Tonight's the night," answered Pat. "I don't expect a big problem. He'll complain at first, but in the end he'll think if it as a big adventure." "He's a teenager at heart," Maggie acknowledged. "I can attest to that from experience." "It's partly that," Pat instructed. "Some of it is that Charlie is cooped up in that accounting office all the time. People expect him to act in a staid, conservative way—and he does. When he gets some time off, he wants some excitement." "I never thought of it that way," Maggie admitted. "In all the years we were married I thought that he was a big kid." "Don't feel bad," Pat said. "It's live and learn." "It's something like that in reverse for Fred," Maggie continued. "When he's on the road as a salesman it's always go-go-go; open bars and dinners at restaurants. When he's home he wants a change of pace. He told me that you thought that he was a stick in the mud." "True enough!" Pat agreed. "Anyway, I like the way it is now." The two clinked coffee cups to toast the revealed wisdom. "You haven't told Fred yet, have you?" asked Pat changing, the subject. "No, I'm going to wait until he gets home and tell him in person, I think it will be better that way. I don't want to give him a lot of time to think about it. He'll come in Friday night. We'll be on our way on Saturday morning. I'm going to spend Friday packing." "Not giving him a chance to say 'No'?" "That's about the size of it," Maggie confessed. "Tell him that I'll be on my best behavior," Pat joked. "I'm not worried about that," Maggie said. "I am wondering about something else, though." Pat raised her eyebrows, waiting for more. Maggie continued. "It's just that I'm uneasy about how the men will react in the situation where we're living in the same cabin. It won't be easy for them to see their former wives in these new skimpy bathing suits and for them to be aware of us sleeping in adjoining bedrooms with new mates. It's easier for us women to put these things aside than men." "And just what do you think their reaction will be?" Pat asked "I think they'll become jealous!" Maggie answered emphatically. Pat set down her coffee cup and leaned sideways, closer to her friend. "What do jealous men do?" Maggie shook her head silently. "They become competitive, that's what! They'll both give their all to show everyone— including themselves—that they are the best swordsman on the planet. So, I wouldn't plan on getting much sleep, if you know what I mean." "Do you really think it will happen that way?" asked Maggie. "They won't be able to help themselves—they are men," Pat insisted. "That sounds interesting," laughed Maggie. "It's more than interesting—it's positively delicious," Pat blurted out, her excitement growing. "It's all that I've been able to think of since we planned the trip. It's probably the reason that I got carried away a little bit while I was shaving you." "I plan to give Fred every opportunity to prove himself," giggled Maggie. "That's the spirit, girl," declared Pat. "Those new bathing suits won't hurt our chances, so don't hesitate to let it all hang out. There's no point in being subtle or shy. Once the ball gets rolling, there will be no stopping it." She peered at her friend to be sure that she understood her meaning. "I just love it when men let themselves go back to being cavemen! Their animal instincts are the best ones that they've got," she added as she stretched herself from fingers to toes like a lioness. The two women paused for a second, looking at each other with wide eyes and unabashed grins. They shared the enjoyment of the moment, the anticipation of the adventure. They were bonded in the conspiracy, looked forward to the action. It was all innocent enough on the surface—a plan for lovemaking with their spouses. Beneath it there was a thrill they did not quite understand. It was unconventional, perhaps a bit naughty. They sensed a power being unleashed that they were unsure they could control. "What if the boys get so wound up that they want to...you know...for old times' sake?" Maggie couldn't quite get out the words. "You mean swap?" laughed Pat. "Let them think that they are. That will just get them charged up even more." "Things could really get out of control, Pat." Maggie was the sensible one. "They won't," Pat assured, waving her hand. "But...," she leaned close to Maggie and her voice turned to a husky whisper, "whatever happens...happens. We'll leave it at the lake. When we come home we won't talk about it or let it bother us. This is just for fun and nothing else." Pat and Maggie looked at each other, forming a silent pact. Pat reached out and placed her hand atop Maggie's. "We leave it at the lake!" Maggie repeated. ************* "I'm so glad that you're home. I've missed you!" cooed Maggie to her husband. The room was dark, but Fred could see Maggie in the sparse light, or a shadowy, darkened version of her. They were both nude. He could feel her smooth, warm skin against his. Maggie had planned to greet him at the door in her red baby-doll nightie, but Fred arrived home an hour earlier than planned. Maggie had just stepped out of the shower when he came in. He had already dragged his bags into the kitchen when she came downstairs in her terrycloth bathrobe. That was enough for Fred. They would save the negligee for another time. Fred lay on his back in their king-sized bed; Maggie was prone and lay between his knees. "I missed you, too," Fred responded. "Mmm, that's good!" Maggie purred. Maggie's face was posed inches over Fred's erection and her tongue snaked from between her lips and danced on the tip. Fred pressed hip hips up slightly, stretching the skin to bring the nerve endings closer to the surface and the warm, moist tongue. Maggie's arms were wrapped around his thighs. Maggie retracted her tongue and bent her head lower. She clasped his mushroom head within her pliant lips and sucked it ever so gently. She tasted a droplet of fluid, as she knew she would, and nibbled a bit. She alternated between sucking and nibbling. Her sensitive lips could feel Fred's pulse, and it was quickening. It was a good sign. She opened her mouth and dove downward, until his pulsing tip touched the back of her throat. She quickly bobbed back up. It was a teasing torture by interrupted pleasure. As Fred recovered from the near climax, his breath was ragged. Fred had pulled into their driveway at eight. She led him up the stairs to the turned-down bed. Bathrobes and clothing were quickly stripped away. Time passed to nine thirty. Fred had been Maggie's 'project' for over an hour. She loved giving him head. For Maggie, fellatio was an art form. Fred knew it. His role was to lie patiently and graciously receive. She would take her pleasure from him later. For the moment, they would follow her prescription. Maggie resumed her cycle of lick, suck, nibble and swallow. It was so predictable; yet, impossible to tire of it. When she thought the moment was right to grant his climax she would break the cycle, submerge even deeper and swallow him. She would gulp him until he released and poured himself into her eager throat. She would milk every drop. Maggie loved using her skills on him. She wasn't sure how much longer she would continue. She knew when she tasted that first leakage he could be coaxed to climax in a short time with little effort. Then it would be her turn. There were other times when she could bring him to the brink of orgasm, just to back away at the last second. She would wait until his urge subsided. It would relieve the pressure to ejaculate. The pleasure cycle could continue much longer. Maggie heard Fred's shallow panting. She could control it with her practiced maneuvers. She knew that he had lost himself—he was hers. She could treat him to instant ecstasy at the moment she would choose, or continue the sweet torture. He was her medium, the canvass that she brushed so delicately, the marble chiseled with such knowledge of the hardness and veins of the stone. She dove down on him deeply—more than normal. His mushroom head popped into her throat. She knew that Fred sensed that culmination was near. She suddenly rose up. He popped out of her mouth. She crawled up several inches and encased his member in her breasts. "I forgot to tell you," she spoke in a low voice. "I asked Pat and Charlie Wilson to share the cabin at Raquette Lake with us." "Huh?" Fred grunted. "Are you kidding?" Maggie went back to nibbling. "You said any couple I could find would be all right," she reminded him between quick bobs of her head. "But Maggie..." he started to protest. "Please say 'Yes'. You know that Pat and I are best friends." She bent back to her task, glad that he wasn't softening at the sudden bad news. "If I say 'Yes' can we get back to what we were doing?" Fred pleaded. Maggie answered by reapplying herself to the artwork in progress. It didn't take long to return to the magic place she had taken Fred. It was a pleasure to hear him cry out as he released himself into her eager throat. In the aftermath she took her place lying beside him with her head on his shoulder. He was breathing returned to normal. Soon he would please her with his own tongue and lips. "It was nice of you to agree to go with Pat and Charlie," she mewed as she played with his chest hair. "Actually," he informed her, "Charlie called me this morning and told me. I've had since ten this morning to get used to the idea." Maggie sat up with a start. "You tricked me!" ********** The drive to Raquette Lake would take four hours. They would go to the public boat launch first. Fred would take the boat across the lake to the cabin, while the others trekked in their SUVs over the dirt roads. In the morning the two couples got started at ten o'clock. It would have been a tight fit in Fred's SUV with four people and luggage for a week, so they decided to take two cars. Charlie and Pat would follow Fred, since they didn't know the way. An added benefit was that they wouldn't be tied to one car. "Call them on the cell and ask them if we can skip lunch," Fred said to Maggie as they exited the Interstate at Utica. "I want to get there before it starts getting dark." "If I do that," she retorted, "they'll think that you don't want to talk to them over lunch." "That's ridiculous!" Fred snapped. "I just want to get to the cabin while we still have some daylight. I know they have some snacks in the car. We have the steaks in the cooler; we'll have a big get-reacquainted cookout tonight." Maggie didn't answer and didn't make the call either. "I'm sure that Charlie will agree—and I don't care if Pat agrees or not," Fred insisted. Maggie made the call. "Daniel Boone says that we have to make the lake before nightfall so we have skip lunch," Maggie spoke with sarcasm into the cell phone. She listened for a few seconds. "All right, I'll tell him." She ended the call. "Pat told me to tell you that 'Davy Crockett' says that he understands." "See? What did I tell you?" Fred snorted. "Don't you want to know what else Pat said?" Maggie challenged. Fred rolled his eyes. He sensed irritation on its way. "No!" he sighed. "I'll tell you anyway," Maggie continued. "She said that she would agree to anything if 'Daniel Boone would stop driving like a maniac and making Davy Crockett do the same to keep up with him'." "The more things change, the more they stay the same," Fred muttered to himself out loud. Fred could see that the week was shaping up as 'girls against the boys.' It was the last thing he wanted, but he hadn't the foggiest idea on how to deal with that problem. He had looked forward to a nice weekend of mixed activities with a couple that had a talent of joining when the time was right and staying out of one's hair when it wasn't. "Where are the Martins when you really need them?" he quipped. Maggie kept silent. ************ It was two-fifteen when the two SUV's arrived at the public boat launch near the Village of Raquette Lake. The sun was shining on the hot summer afternoon. The Adirondack Mountains are drained by the Raquette River, and the Lake is its source. It's really a basin, carved by ancient glaciers where the waters of Blue Mountain Lake and the Fulton Chain join to wait for their turn to travel to the St. Lawrence River. The lake is about five miles long from north to south and two miles wide. Along the way, the flow is joined by those of Long Lake, the Tupper Lakes and others. Raquette Lake is calm and shallow. There are many areas of marsh and reeds. The shores are a collection of fingers of land that create numerous coves and secluded havens. It isn't over-built with tourist sites, like some areas. The fishing is fantastic, the pace is slow. A canoe is a better choice than a speedboat or jet-ski. If you are looking for action—forget it. If you want relaxation at your own pace, you're in the right place. Fred backed the SUV and boat trailer down the ramp. Charlie and Pat parked nearby and came over to help. Floating the boat wasn't really difficult; Fred could have handled it by himself, but let Charlie lend a hand. A casual observer seeing the two couples, the men attending to the boat, the women on the shore watching, would have seen that they were traveling together. The conclusion on which spouses belonged together would have been a mistake. Charlie was tall and lanky. He had dark features and black hair, where he had any hair left. He looked like a basketball player of old with a little paunch. The description was accurate. He did play forward at the Division III college where he majored in Accounting. That was in the past. He had become the managing partner of the accounting firm that he started with friends of his from the Big Eight firm where they began their careers. Just to use the 'Big Eight' nickname dated him. According to appearances, he was Maggie's perfect match. Fred was shorter than Charlie and stocky. He had a full head of light brown hair that had been invaded with shreds of gray. He had actually worked himself into decent physical condition in the last few years. He realized the hazards of food and drink when he was out on the road. He determined to fight back by joining a gym and following an exercise regimen that kept him trim. After the two SUVs ambled away Fred stepped into his boat. It was a modest skiff with an outboard motor, perfectly suited for fishing and the Lake. Fred knew that by cutting across the Lake he would easily arrive at the cabin ahead of the caravan of SUVs, and he didn't want to. He started the motor and guided it to the public dock in the Village. Maggie had given him a grocery list to fill. It suited him. He would rather kill some time while the women opened up the cabin and cleaned up. He felt guilty for not asking Charlie to accompany him by boat. He had considered it, but thought that the move would have been obvious to the women. Matched Pairs Ch. 01-02 Fred wandered slowly through the small grocery store, picking up the items on Maggie's list. He noted that she had neglected to write down 'beer'. "No problem—I'll fix that!" Fred said out loud to himself. He strode to the walk-in cooler and picked out a case. "That will get us started." He picked up two six packs of wine coolers for the girls. They were made from limes and mangos, or some fruity concoction that Fred preferred not to think about. It took two trips from the grocery store to the dock to get the bags of groceries and case of beer loaded into the boat. "I hate warm beer!" he said to no one in particular. He popped the cap on a bottle from the case he just bought, started the motor of his boat and took the long, slow way to the cabin. The cold beer was refreshing. As he looked about he noticed that the lake and surrounding forests hadn't changed a bit and that suited Fred to a T. It was his favorite place to relax and unwind. His companions for the week were not his first choice, to be sure. Charlie was okay. He didn't know him very well, but never had a reason to have anything against him. It was Pat who loomed as the potential burr under his saddle. He was determined not to let her get to him. The Daniel Boone zinger almost had succeeded in making him angry. Pat had obviously passed the nickname to Maggie. Only Fred and Pat knew that it was an allusion to an episode many years before when he had become lost while driving on lonely forest trails in Maine and wound up in Canada by mistake. Pat had a great memory for those kinds of things. The RCMP did, too, but that was another story. It wasn't as though he and Pat hadn't seen one another since the divorce. They, after all, had a daughter who had graduated college. They managed to be civil to one another on that occasion. The bitterness of the split-up was worn away. She was happy with Charlie and Fred with Maggie. There had been good times, too. Why let it grind? Still, it was a risky, new venture to try this reunion for a whole week. Fred reckoned that the group would be arriving at the cabin at about that time. By the time he made his way across the lake the cleaning and unpacking would be well under way. Fred had great timing. He popped the top on another beer and turned the skiff toward the cabin, but not too fast. ********** Fred docked the boat. The cabin was about fifty yards away. He searched for signs of activity and saw none and that made him worry. If Maggie had taken the wrong dirt road, getting back on course could take hours, especially with the boat trailer behind the SUV. He wasn't sure that Maggie would be able to turn the vehicle around. He carried a bag of groceries up to the cabin and saw that neither vehicle had arrived. Maggie had the keys with her, so he couldn't get in cabin and didn't want to break in. He set the groceries down on the doorstep. The sun was getting low in the sky; it was still quite warm out. Fred immediately recognized a crisis—something had to be done. It called for fast action. The beer was already warm and he couldn't get into the cabin to get it into the refrigerator. If he didn't do something right away it wouldn't be chilled until the next day. Fred considered getting back into the boat and searching for a neighbor to store the beer. He wasn't sure that he would find anyone he knew, and it wouldn't look good to count the bottles before entrusting them to an unknown party. Fred, with his brain running at top speed, seized upon a sudden inspiration. The temperature of the air was nearly ninety; the water in the lake was probably twenty degrees less. The lake couldn't chill the beer, but it would give him a head start when he could get it into the refrigerator. It wasn't perfect, but it was man against the wilderness and he had to improvise. Fred went back to the boat and stripped off his shoes and socks. He was wearing shorts. He hopped into the water. It was two or three feet deep. He reached into the boat and set the case of beer on the silty lakebed. He would retrieve the bottles later and clean up the soaked cardboard. Problem solved! It was the work of a dedicated genius. He knew Charlie would be grateful. He set out to find the lost caravan. He had an idea where they might be, a fork in the road that was confusing. He was sure that Maggie had chosen the wrong one. It was about a half-mile away. Fred hiked to the mischievous fork in the dirt road. Sure enough, the two SUV's were at the end of the dead end path about a quarter mile away. Pat, Maggie and Charlie were trying to figure out how to get the SUVs, complete with boat trailer, turned in the right direction. From the angle of the trailer, Fred guessed that Maggie had already backed the trailer into the drainage ditch and had given up trying to back the rig down the lane. "Look! Daniel Boone's come to save us." Pat quipped as she saw Fred approaching. Fred didn't like the remark, but had realized earlier in the day that it was going to be his fate to listen to Pat's barbs for the entire week, so he decided not to care. "Fred, honey, I took the wrong turn," Maggie informed him of the obvious in her helpless woman voice. "I see that!" answered Fred. "You must have let Pat handle the map." He didn't really care about Pat's barbs, but it was a voluntary indifference and he had the right to suspend it when he so chose. This was too good an opportunity to pass up, as Pat had to sit silently while he rescued them. The empty boat trailer wasn't heavy and the trail was flat. Fred and Charlie unhitched it from the SUV and pushed it by hand to the fork where they got things pointed in the right way. They finally arrived at the cabin at just before five in the afternoon. The four of them quickly emptied out the two SUVs and pushed the boat trailer out of the way. The women set about making up the beds and cleaning, even thought they hadn't been at the cabin long enough to get anything dirty. Fred noticed that the landlord had already turned on the refrigerator. "Perfect!" he exclaimed to quizzical looks from Pat and Maggie. "Charlie," he called out, "empty out that basket of clothes and give me a hand." The two men went out the front door toward the lake, empty clothes basket in hand. "Where do you guys think you're going?" called Pat after them. Fred explained his ploy to cool the beer in the lake. "Good thinking!" exclaimed Charlie. "You mean you were here playing with beer bottles in the lake while we were stranded on that dirt road?" Maggie accused incredulously. "I wasn't playing," Fred argued back. "I was protecting my investment, and it only took two extra minutes." "Beer wasn't even on my grocery list," snapped Maggie. "I noticed, but I added it in. I figured that you forgot," Fred yelled over his shoulder as he strode out with Charlie toward the dock. Pat could see that Maggie was starting to fume. "Look, he bought us some wine coolers." She pointed out to cool her friend down. Fred waded into the lake and handed the beer bottles to Charlie who stood on the dock "Maggie sounded mad," Charlie warned. "Forget it!" Fred reassured him. "She's just feeling guilty for getting lost and putting the trailer in the ditch. She's looking for someone else to shoulder the blame. She'll get over it." Back in the cabin the women were finishing their housekeeping. "Want to break out our new bikinis?" Pat asked. "It's a little late. It should start cooling off soon," Maggie said. Besides, Fred will think that it's a peace offering for yelling at him over the beer." "You're not still mad are you?" Pat asked. "No," Maggie answered. "But it wouldn't look good to go into full retreat—and the sun is getting pretty low." "Have a wine cooler," Pat offered. The women fell silent as Fred and Charlie walked into the cabin with the beer and started loading it into the refrigerator. He saved out four bottles and put them into the freezer to move them along faster. "Why don't Charlie and I start the fire and put the steaks on?" Fred suggested. Everyone remembered that they had skipped lunch. It was seven before they sat down to eat. Maggie's and Fred's sparring over the beer was forgotten. Pat and Fred kept their barbs to themselves, at least temporarily. By the time they finished dinner it was nine in the evening. Charlie and Fred sat outdoors having another beer while the women cleaned up. They discussed playing golf and fishing. Fred promised to give Charlie a guided boat tour around the lake. The women joined them with a wine cooler each. "I'm tired!" Pat declared. It was heading toward ten. "I think it's this mountain air." "It was a long day traveling." Maggie agreed. "I'm going to turn in." They all decided that it would be a good idea. They would all hit the sack and start the new day fresh and rested. ********** TO BE CONTINUED Dear Readers, Thank you for reading "Matched Pairs". I hope that you're enjoying it so far. There will be eight chapters in all. If you have any thoughts on the story, why not send me a note and let me know what you think. Use either facility provided by the website at the end of the chapter. You can post a public comment, or a private e-mail. You can do so anonymously if you wish. If you provide me with an address I'll reply as soon as I can. Good reading and best regards, Autumn Writer