1 comments/ 11162 views/ 0 favorites Matched Pairs Ch. 03-04 By: AutumnWriter CHAPTER 3 The process of accommodating four adults through a single bathroom was a major task. It began at ten and required nearly an hour. Fred and Maggie, as hosts, allowed Pat and Charlie to go first. Fred did his part by staying out of the way. He had half a beer to finish and the air was a warm and pleasant. He stood on the dock and listened to the night. The two bedrooms were arranged such that they shared a common wall. Fred was the last to finish in the bathroom. Charlie and Pat had been in bed for nearly a half hour before he slipped into his and Maggie's room. Maggie was sitting in bed waiting for him, reading a magazine. Fred stripped down to his boxers. "Do I need these?" he asked, holding up his pajama bottoms. "Oh, I don't think so!" purred Maggie in her coquette voice. "I won't let you get cold." Fred hooked his thumb in his underwear and tugged them down in one motion. He unabashedly stood beside the bed, letting Maggie watch him hardening. At the same time, Maggie leaned forward and pulled her cotton nightgown over her head. In the brief glimpse that she allowed him, Fred viewed her firm breasts with appreciation and looked forward to touching them and tongue-lashing her nipples. She turned out the light and Fred climbed in and reached over to embrace her. It was warm enough that they didn't require any covers. After the lights were out Maggie pushed away the sheet. They lay there nude, embracing each other, sharing a kiss from time to time. Maggie felt warm and good. Fred could tell from the relaxation of her body into his that her mind was on him. Any irritations of the day were past. After a while their tenderness was adequately expressed. As they continued kissing, passion replaced affection. Soon, their tongues were dancing. Fred reached with one hand and cupped a breast. Maggie made no sound, but her body insisted on more of the same. Their lovemaking was suddenly interrupted by a mysterious thumping sound. It seemed to shake the whole cabin. Maggie sat up and Fred rolled onto his back—pre-coitus interruptus. "Is that the water pump?" Maggie asked. "Maybe you had better go take a look at it." The thumping began again. It had a regular beat. Thump—thump—thump. "Aren't you going to get up?" Maggie insisted. "If you don't, Charlie will, and they're our guests." Fred's erection had faded with the vexing interruption. "I don't think that Charlie will be getting up," Fred assured her. He was huffing and puffing in an irritated disgust. The sound started again, but with a different rhythm. Thump—thump, thump, thump—thump—thump, thump, thump. "What's going on?" Maggie demanded. "Charlie won't get up because what you're hearing is my ex-wife riding on top of Charlie and the headboard of the bed hitting the wall," Fred sighed. "No, I'm sure that's not true" whispered Maggie in the darkness, but she didn't sound convinced. It started again. The beat was accompanied by a musical embellishment. Thump—owwww—thump, thump—ahhhh—thump, ohhhh. It was a woman's voice singing in a high octave. Maggie recognized it muffled through the wall. "Maybe they're making a new CD. With this new rap music, anything goes. I wouldn't suggest turning it into a video, though." Fred was at his sarcastic best. "Well, we did let them into the bathroom first," Maggie pointed out. "C'mon, we'll just ignore it." She turned to caress Fred's softened penis. "How can you ignore that?" Fred growled under his breath. "I can't concentrate!" The thumping and singing continued unabated. The beat would change occasionally—it became louder. Maggie gently stroked her hand over Fred's chest. She whispered into his ear so that he could hear her over the sounds from the wall. "From the sounds of things, I think that they're almost done," Maggie giggled. "It kind of turns me on." She was right. The thumping stopped and there was a final, prolonged, note from Pat. Then there was silence. "All right," Maggie whispered to Fred. "It's our turn now." "The mood is ruined!" Fred snorted. "I'm too distracted to get hard again." "Oh, Fred, don't say that. It was going so nicely," Maggie pleaded. "How long were they at it, anyway?" Fred asked. "I would say it was ten minutes—at least the thumping on the walls," Maggie answered. Fred let out and exasperated sigh. Maggie turned on her side and softly stroked the sensitive skin of his scrotum and his softened penis. "That would be nothing for you," she said in a low voice. "What do you mean?" Fred asked. "You know," Maggie prodded gently "You always last longer than that!" "Not including foreplay?" "No, foreplay would be extra," Maggie assured him. Fred didn't answer, but Maggie felt him draw a deep breath. He made a little 'hmmph' sound as he thought about what Maggie said. She continued her massage. Soon he was pressing his pelvis up into her skillful hand, getting harder. Finally, he was fully engorged. Maggie rolled onto her back and nudged him to signal him to mount her. When it was over—thirteen minutes later—Fred collapsed on top of his wife, his energy spent. "That was well-worth the wait," she purred in his ear. They were ready for sleep and the day ahead. ********** In the morning the couples rose in reverse order to their previous night's retiring. Maggie put on her bathrobe and started to cook some bacon and then began mixing pancake batter. Fred put on the coffee pot. He was wearing his swim trunks and a T-shirt. He didn't bring his Speedos. It promised to be another hot day. He felt like playing golf, but knew that the others would want to spend some time on the lake. He went down to the dock to check on the boat. Pat emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing her bathrobe, too. It was obvious, judging from the outlines of their flanks and breasts, that neither woman wore anything underneath their robes. She gave Maggie a hand by setting the table. Charlie came out soon wearing a pair of shorts and a polo shirt. He joined Fred on the dock. Fred showed him around the boat and they discussed fishing spots they could try. Soon they were at the table for breakfast. "The pancakes are good, Maggie," Charlie said "I'm hungry enough to eat a horse!" "Why, thank you, Charlie," Maggie replied. She was happy that the day was starting on a good note. "There's something in this mountain air that gets the appetite up," Pat added. "Especially at night!" agreed Fred. "You can really work up a big appetite then." "You must have heard us last night," Charlie said. "We're sorry. It's hard to remember that we're not in complete privacy, especially when the atmosphere is so good." Fred gave his hand a slight wave, as if to say no big deal. "A little investment of ten minutes is well worth it. Charlie is such an animal," Pat boasted, rejecting Charlie's implied apology. Maggie blushed and looked down at her plate. She knew that Fred would be quick to respond. "You're so right, Pat," he answered. "In our case, it was thirteen minutes." There were seconds of silence around the table. Maggie rolled her eyes. Charlie looked confused. Fred broke the silence. "...but who's counting?" "It sounds as if you are," Pat retorted. "Behave, children!" Maggie scolded. "Well, I have no complaints about Charlie's..." argued Pat. "It doesn't matter!" scolded Maggie. "Aren't we both lucky to have such virile men for husbands?" "We would know from experience!" quipped Pat. Maggie sensed Pat's manipulative talents coming to the fore. Fred looked smug because he had made his point with only the slightest slap on the wrist. She used the occasion to get the husbands' blood up. Fred suggested a boat tour around the lake. "Sounds good to me!" Maggie said. "Pat and I will put our swim suits on as soon as we get the dishes done. Charlie went into the bedroom to put on his trunks and Fred disappeared to the dock. "Do you think that it's time for the special 'razor cut' bikinis?" Maggie asked, referring to the most daring of the triad that they bought for the trip. "No," Pat replied. "They just had a big night and it's too early in the morning. Besides, sitting in Fred's boat isn't the most flattering of positions to show our stuff. Let's give them the one-piece for starters. We've got to save something for later." Charlie had already joined Fred at the dock when Pat and Maggie paraded from the cabin, the shorter Pat in the lead—Maggie falling in step behind. They didn't hustle down, just sauntered slowly to the dock. Each wore one of their husband's cotton shirts over their suits, which extended to mid-thigh and hid the details from the men. "Hey, that's one of my best shirts!" Charlie protested. "Mine, too!" Fred added. The women ignored them. Instead, they stood side by side on the dock. Slowly, so slowly, they unbuttoned the cotton shits. They peered from behind their sunglasses to see if their husbands were watching. It didn't matter which husband was watching which wife. "How long does a trip around the lake take?" Pat asked Maggie in a sultry voice. "Not too long," Maggie answered, matching Pat in sultriness. "I would say about thirteen minutes!" They glanced at their husbands, and then each other, deciding that they were finally receiving the attention they deserved. Only then, they unfastened the final button and slid the shirts from their shoulders. Although they wore one-piece suits, they were far from dowdy. Maggie's was a black and white print with a halter tie and a neckline that plunged nearly to her navel. She turned a little sideways to show its high cut on the side. Pat's suit was navy blue. Its neckline was scooped low in front to display her premium cleavage. The sides were cut high like Maggie's, which had the effect of making her curvy hips even more noticeable and her legs appear longer than they were. "We better put on sun-screen," said Maggie. Pat bent from the waist to pick up the bottle of lotion at her feet. The muscles of her legs stretched and were on display. They looked good. She squeezed a dollop into her hand and handed the bottle to Maggie who did the same. "Where did you get that suit, Maggie? I haven't seen it before," Fred asked. "I just bought it for this trip," Maggie replied. "You'll see it on the credit card bill at the end of the month. "Well, I like it," Fred complimented. "Just don't wear it anywhere public." "Fred! Don't be a prude. Would you want me too look dowdy?" Maggie asked. "I'd prefer something between dowdy and what you have on," he answered, trying in vain to show authority. Maggie frowned. "Well, make sure that if do wear it in public, it's an adults only beach." "I'm wearing a new suit, too, Charlie, or were you too busy looking at Maggie's to notice?" Pat scolded. "I did notice!" Charlie insisted, but otherwise kept silent. "You don't sound convincing." Pat accused. "I'll give you a chance to make it up to me later" Like two dancers performing a routine, the women reached low to their ankles, spreading the sun cream on their legs. They slowly worked their way up their calves to their knees and paused. They did one leg and then the other. They got another dollop and started on their thighs. They worked their hands around in circles while the men watched, slowly approaching the very tops where they had carefully shaved one another a few days before. As she nearly finished her second leg, Pat slowed her hand movements and let out a long, audible sigh. She looked into Charlie's eyes with her lips parted slightly. Charlie's jaw hung agape. "Can you do me?" she called out wistfully. Charlie, in an obedient trance, began to step off the boat and onto the dock. Maggie interrupted. "Of course!" she matter-of-factly answered, and massaged some lotion into Pat's back as she turned around. Charlie, startled, hopped back into the boat. It rocked from side to side with Fred struggling to stabilize it. Pat repeated the favor for Maggie. They finished by spreading sun-block on their arms and then reached out their hands for their husbands to help them into the boat. Maggie noticed that Fred had turned slightly to the side as if to hide something. At first Fred had Maggie sit in the bow of the boat and Pat and Charlie sit side by side on the middle seat. Fred would man the motor at the stern. He realized right away that it was a bad setup. The bow rode too high in the water and the boat listed to Charlie's side. Fred put Charlie in the bow and the women side-by-side- in the middle seat. The boat was a little overloaded and rode low in the water. It was a calm day, so Fred knew that if he took it slow they would be able to make the tour and return without swamping. The seating arrangement gave Fred a chance to get an eyeful in stereo. Pat and Maggie couldn't move around in the small boat. They sat facing Fred in their new revealing bathing suits. Their skin shone with sun-block lotion and their eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. Fred's eyes were hidden by sunglasses, too. After their display on the dock, he surmised that Pat and Maggie were expecting a secret inspection. For a few seconds Fred worried about Charlie in the bow. He hoped that his unobstructed view of their seated behinds would be enough to satisfy him. He only worried briefly and then banished the concern. Charlie would have to fend for himself. Fred steered the boat, slowly tracing the shore about one hundred yards out. At the speed he was going, and in the heat of the day, he knew that he wouldn't be able to survey the entire lake. He decided to go to the point where the river departs the lake. He knew of a place where they could swim if they chose. He figured they could get there and back in about an hour and a half. As the boat edged its way along the shoreline the women started to relax. Tightly clenched thighs loosened and spread slightly apart. The sight of a leg pressing against the leg of their seatmate was erotic. It drew Fred's gaze in further, into the vee formed at the apex of their two thighs. He looked each woman up and down several times. He was reminded of Pat's scar on her knee from her old operation. He hadn't seen it in years. It reminded him of some their days together. When he was satisfied that he had seen all he could below their waists, Fred allowed his eyes to travel upward. His eyes riveted on the necklines of the two women from behind his sunglasses. The surveillance was more entertaining. While their lower parts had been erotic, after a few minutes Fred realized that the portfolio was one dimensional. The top offering was very different. As they turned to view a different part of the shoreline, or turn their heads to speak to one another, or better yet turn completely around to speak to Charlie in the bow, their angle and coverage would constantly change. Given the revealing nature of their suits, Fred was sure that their entire front package above the waist would be revealed to him in due course. Fred became more skillful, pointing out sights in various directions when he wanted them to turn in a certain direction. From time to time the nipples of each woman would stiffen and show through the fabric of her suit. Maggie was the most exposed in this regard. She needed little support with her small breasts, so the fabric of her suit was thinner. Fred wondered if the stiffness was due to their excitement because they knew they were exposed to him. Could they tell that he was taking advantage from behind his shades? Their expressions offered no clues, but their antics on the dock made Fred believe that some aspect of display was on their minds. At one point Pat bent low from the waist to clasp her ankles for no apparent reason. The scooped neckline of her suit fell forward, exposing her beautiful fruit. She held the pose for telltale seconds, bolstering Fred's suspicions. "I bet you girls are getting hot," Fred called out over the sound of the outboard motor. The women didn't respond. He guided the boat to a nearby inlet. "This little cove is a good place for swimming." He had decided to see if the view would change with wet suits. "Why don't you go in? Just slip over the side carefully, one at a time." Pat and Maggie looked at each other and decided to take Fred up on the offer. Fred turned off the motor. After some maneuvering, they were swimming around the boat. "Go ahead and jump in, Charlie!" Fred offered, but he declined. The two men were content to watch the women cool themselves in the waters of the lake. They were soon ready to get back in the boat. Fred and Charlie helped lift them back in. Just as Fred had imagined, the wet fabric of their suits accentuated the contours of their bodies, and they presented a tempting display. The women resumed their seats in the boat, except that that they turned toward Charlie, their back to Fred for the return trip to the dock. "It's Charlie's turn for the show. I hope that he takes advantage." Fred said to himself. It confirmed his suspicions that the wives had put themselves on display. "Let's go back to the cabin. By the time we get there it will time for lunch." Fred said, and they all agreed. *********** "Do you think it's worth the risk?" Charlie asked, partly to Fred and partly to himself. "If this goes wrong, it will be worse than not trying anything at all." "You're right!" Fred agreed. "But if we pull it off it could be the best moment of the vacation; and I think we can do it if we keep our cool and work together. Well—it will be one of the best memories, anyway." Fred wouldn't forget the first night's ten-minute bedstead overture or the bathing suit ballet on the dock the next morning, either. What they were planning, however, would top all that. "Alright, let's do it!" Charlie said. He turned to the man behind the counter. "Let us have four good ones, please." "Fishing not too good this morning, guys?" the counterman queried. Fred and Charlie mournfully shook their heads. They had done everything right. Early morning rise, off to the spot that the owner of the tackle shop suggested. "You're sure to find Smallmouth there," he assured them as they bought their fishing licenses. "Try these." He sold them two bass plugs each. There was a mist on the surface of the water as Fred guided boat the across the lake. Fresh in their minds were their wives' skeptical taunts the night before and the way they snuggled up to them as the alarm clocks sounded, testing their charms against the call of the wild with their warm bodies pressed against their men in the early morning chill. But, the men would not be dissuaded. The women's ploys raised the stakes. To return with an insufficient catch would have raised guffaws from the women and the requirement for the men to make amends before they could resume 'normal relations'. The men would never admit it, but they needed a break from horizontal maneuvers. The supercharged women were wearing them out. They drifted short of the drop-off, casting just short of the reeds. They might have felt a couple of hits, but no Smallmouth materialized. A few perch hooked themselves—or perhaps the same perch hooked itself a few times—but they had promised to bring home Bass. Perch would have been good eating, but they couldn't settle for less than what they promised. They tried three spots. Finally, the sun was too high in the sky to really hope for much. "Do you want me to take off the heads and tails?" the man behind the counter offered. "No, no!" exclaimed Fred. "Just leave them as they are." "You're going to tell your wives that you caught them, aren't you?" the counterman grinned. Fred and Charlie smirked and shrugged. "That's okay!" the counterman laughed. "Come back and catch some tomorrow too! We get 'em in fresh every morning." Matched Pairs Ch. 03-04 "This is just between us, right?" Fred pleaded. "Who am I gonna tell?" he answered. "No extra charge for silence!" As Fred and Charlie made their way to the cashier, Charlie picked up a bag of charcoal and some paper towels. "What are you doing with those?" Fred demanded. "Don't you remember? The girls said to pick these things up on our way back to the cabin. We're almost out of beer, too." "Not a chance!" Fred insisted. "We can't let them know that we were anywhere near the grocery store. We'll tell them we forgot about it in the excitement of hauling in the fish. We'll come back for it later." "Good thinking!" Charlie agreed. "How much beer is left, anyway?" Charlie held up four fingers. As the two co-conspirators motored down the lake to the cabin they rode along in silence, trying to anticipate all possible angles. "We better get those fish unwrapped and on the stringer." Fred called out over the sound of the motor. Charlie unfolded the white butcher's paper and fastened each fish through the gills and onto a metal clip. "How are we going to explain how they got cleaned and scaled?" "Easy!" Fred answered. "We stopped and did it on the shore so they wouldn't have to see them, or have the guts floating in the water where they would be swimming later. They'll love it! They'll probably refuse to look at the fish until they're cooked, anyway. What we did forget was 'what to do with that wrapping paper'. We don't dare show up with it on us, and we can't toss garbage in the lake." Fred turned the boat around to head back to the public dock to throw away the paper in the trash can. "This will be perfect!" he called out. "We're late because we stopped to clean the fish." Charlie took out the coffee thermos and split the remaining amount between them. "It's mostly a true story." he said, handing Fred a steaming cup. "We did go fishing; they are bass; and they came from the lake. There's a little gray area in between." "You sound like a true accountant, Charlie! You must really know how to sock it to the IRS," Fred snorted. "I'm going to send you my tax work next year." "I've been one for a lot of years, and this is the part you don't learn in college," Charlie quipped back. Thus, two men, whose circumstances made them unlikely to form a friendship, bonded together in a conspiracy to save their own self-respect, and that of all men. ******** TO BE CONTINUED CHAPTER 4 Whether caught by hook or crook, the fish dinner that night was excellent. They grilled them over the charcoal fire, along with some red potatoes on skewers. They bought some white wine for the women, as well, during the same trip to replenish their beer supplies. After they finished eating Fred and Charlie gathered firewood as the sunlight slowly faded. Maggie and Pat did the dishes in the cabin. "The fish tasted good tonight," Pat said. "You know what, Pat?" Maggie ventured. "I'm not sure that they really caught those fish. If they had cleaned them they would have done it down by the dock in full view. I don't buy the 'we wanted to spare you the guts' story." "You mean you would suspect our own beloved husbands of devious behavior just to save their own pride? I'm shocked to hear you say that!" Pat sarcastically exclaimed. "I would suspect them if they had a chance to think of something," Maggie answered. "Apparently they did," Pat sighed. "Charlie left his pants on the bed when he changed into his trunks. I found the receipt in his pocket." "Of all the dishonest tricks!" Maggie said. "What do you think we should do to them?" "Nothing!" replied Pat. "Let's let it slide. It'll only get a thing going, and I'd like to spend the time getting something else going, if you know what I mean. If I wasn't so hot-to-trot, I'd make them regret it!" "I know what you mean." Maggie agreed. "Maybe we'll bring up this fish escapade at the holidays. Anyway, it will be fun to know what they did, and have them think that we don't know." "Now you're talking, girl!" exclaimed Pat. "By the way," added Maggie, we've had on two of our new suits, but not our secret weapons, the 'razor bikinis." "I know." Pat acknowledged. "We have to bring them out at the right time. There will be one single first time for them, so it has to be done right." "Kind of like a virgin," Maggie quipped. "How can you remember that far back?" "I don't think that I ever was one." Maggie answered back. "I was just assuming." "All this talk has me turned on again." Pat gasped. "Let's go enjoy the bonfire for awhile and then drag these guys off to the sack and jump their bones." ************ To enjoy the beauty of the Adirondacks, vacationers must pay a price. In June, there are the Black Flies. (Don't go in June.) After June, there is the rain. It is written in the Great Book that in the midst of each Adirondack vacation, one complete day must be absorbed by rain. It will always follow a day of warmth and sunshine. The rain will start in the early morning; it won't stop until long after dark. The sky will take on the color of lead. At times the rain will be heavy and at other times it will be heavier. It won't stop. The air will turn damp and chilly. On the morrow the sun will reappear and proceed to dry out the forests. The rains are unavoidable. It is the decree of the ages. If you go to there, you must accept the rain. Adults can accept the fact of rain, except when they are on vacation. Perhaps it is the expectation of boredom that sets nerves on edge. As one sits quietly to read a magazine a person knows that the solace will be short-lived. It would only be by sheer luck that a random periodical might contain something of interest to the reader. Once a reader is absorbed, it is only a matter of time before one person or another starts moving about the cabin, making a racket, talking, running the water, walking about the room, breathing and other nuisance things. So it was with the two couples on Raquette Lake that day. The deluge continued the drum roll on the roof. Everyone had to raise their voices to be heard over it. Outdoor activity was out of the question. It was hard to sit still in the cold, clammy air. Beer didn't even taste good in this weather. "Why don't we play cards?" Maggie suggested. They all looked at one another dubiously. "What game?" Charlie asked. "It's too cold for Strip Poker," Pat joked. "I don't know how to play poker," Maggie said. "I don't know either, but there's a little card in the front of the deck that tells what all the hands are." Pat countered. The men rolled their eyes in secret. "You're just looking for an excuse to take your clothes off," Maggie accused. "I don't need an excuse. I'm just waiting for Charlie to take the hint! Maybe you should do the same to Fred." "Girls! Girls! Stop arguing. I have a better idea," Fred said. The two women abruptly halted their banter and cocked a waiting ear to hear what Fred said next. "Let's get into the SUV and take a drive up to Long Lake. We'll look around and then take in the Adirondack Museum. After that, we'll stop at Blue Mountain Lake. There are gift stores there and a nice restaurant." The women looked at one another, weighing their options, and communicating through a system of pheromones that only women even know exist. "Sounds good—let's go," they sang out in unison, and then disappeared into their bedrooms to change clothes. "Wow!" exclaimed Charlie, "That was slick." "Never underestimate the power of shopping to divert women's attention when they're restless," Fred instructed. "It'll be a nice day trip. The Adirondack Museum, alone, is well worth the drive." Fred drove, since he knew the way. Charlie sat in the front with him. Pat and Maggie sat in the back. The drive would take an hour and a half, considering the trek from their cabin to the Village of Raquette Lake, and maybe a little longer due to the rain. From the Village, the drive would be down Route 28 to Blue Mountain Lake, then a turn up Route 30 to Long Lake. On the way back they would stop at Blue Mountain Lake for the Museum, shopping and dinner. As they drove out of the Village of Raquette Lake the road ambled along a ridge overlooking the Lake. "That cove over there is where we caught the fish," Fred called out to the women in the back seat. Pat and Maggie looked at each other, and stifled a giggle. They said nothing, waiting to see how far Fred would go with his story. "Isn't that right, Charlie?" Fred went on, pulling his co-conspirator into the web. "Beats me," Charlie answered, as he sank lower in his seat. "Those inlets all look a lot different from up here on the road." "It wasn't a lie." Charlie thought to himself. "I didn't confirm it or deny it. It could have been the cove; we did catch those perch. They just weren't the fish we brought back to the cabin." Charlie's conscience was soothed, but he wished Fred would shut-up, just the same. Fred decided to drop the subject. Charlie wasn't helping and the women seemed uninterested. At long-last they made it to Long Lake. As its name suggests, it looks like a long lake. But, it isn't a lake; it's a wide, slow-flowing river. It is part of the Raquette River, originating at the same lake as they were staying. Parts of Long Lake are so remote that the only access to it is by seaplane or boat. The Village of Long Lake lies at the southern end. There was a sandwich shop there, and they ate before heading to the Adirondack Museum. It was a nice day touring, despite the rain. The Museum had something for everyone. It was a perfect way to pass a rainy day on vacation. As the rain continued to pour they sat around a table at Blue Mountain Lake. "This was a good idea, Fred," Pat volunteered. "I think that I was getting cabin fever this morning." "It's nice anywhere if you have good company to spend it with," Fred answered. "Oh, Fred, that's so nice!" Pat said, stifling a little sob. "I was so afraid that we would be fighting this whole trip." "It started out that way," Fred admitted. "We just had to get it out of our systems." "So no more hard feelings?" Pat pressed on. "No," Fred conceded. "Too much time has gone by. Things ended up well—for both of us. But, look, we're embarrassing Charlie and Maggie." "No, not at all." Charlie asserted. "Here's to it. Maggie and I feel the same." Maggie nodded that she felt that way, too. They raised their glasses and drank the toast. "And whose idea was this vacation? Does anyone remember?" Maggie reminded them. "Gee, Maggie, I don't remember. Wasn't it a consensus kind of thing?" Fred ribbed her. At first Maggie thought Fred's answer was in earnest and stared at him with her mouth open in disbelief. Then the others laughed and Maggie joined in. It was a nice dinner, and a nicer night when they finally returned to the cabin. ************ As always happens in the Adirondacks in summer, the day following the rain was warm and sunny. After an early breakfast Maggie and Pat went for a walk while Charlie and Fred went fishing. "That was a nice time at dinner last night," Pat said wistfully. "It certainly cleared the air," Maggie added. "Don't take this the wrong way," Pat went on. "I couldn't help thinking about the old days with Fred. It wasn't all bad—only the end. Even then, the bedroom was never a problem." "That's the way it was for Charlie and me, too," Maggie agreed. "We used to really set the bed on fire when we were young," Pat said. "Fred was strong and he would bore in like a bulldog!" "He still does," Maggie assured her. "I heard you and Charlie through the wall more than once during this time at the cabin. You don't seem to be suffering." "I'm not complaining," Pat responded. "Charlie and Fred are like strawberry and chocolate ice cream. They're both taste good, but completely different." "I suppose that's true," Maggie mused. "Charlie makes love like a figure skater—smooth and graceful. He never lifts off the ice until both are ready." "It sounds like you and Charlie have some memories together, too," Pat said. "I like the strawberry ice cream that I've got now. I do remember the chocolate fondly, though." Maggie nodded. They walked along the lane silently for a while before Pat changed the subject. "Today is the day to unleash our secret weapons." "You mean the razor-cut bikinis?" "I sure do. We only have two more days here and the weather is so nice. I just hope that all of this eating and drinking hasn't put any weight on us." "I wouldn't worry about that." Maggie assured her. "More to the point, what these suits are going to do to the guys. There is already a lot of current flowing through their circuits, you know." "Only theirs?" "I admit it, in mine, too," Maggie confessed. "But, you've forgotten to mention yourself." "I know it!" Pat acknowledged. "I can't help it. The setting is so perfect. We're so secluded in our little part of the lake. It's so nice with the lake and the forest. We're having so much fun together and it's so relaxing. The reconciliation yesterday was frosting on the cake. I feel like I'm right on the edge of being out of control. I should be fighting it, but I can't—I love it. I love the excitement." "Are you looking for a taste of chocolate ice cream?" Maggie asked gently. "No, it's only a fantasy. I don't expect that to happen. I am going to get a thrill when Fred and Charlie start ogling me this afternoon when we put on those bikinis. Seeing them get the hots for us is almost as good as the real thing. You should feel it, too. You have a great package to display." "I think that we're playing with fire," Maggie cautioned. "What if our husbands decide to take this a step further?" "They won't!" Pat answered. "They'll sure think about it; but they'll run back to the henhouse at the last moment. Then, wait and see how much juice is in their batteries." "This could never happen back home," Maggie said. "That's right!" Pat agreed. "Remember what we said before we came here—what happens at the lake..." "...stays at the lake." Maggie completed the sentence. ********* The sun was high in the sky. Charlie and Fred satn chairs by the lake sipping after-lunch beers. They had changed into their trunks and were waiting for Pat and Maggie to finish the dishes and join them after they changed into their suits. "Another bad luck fishing day," Fred mused. "We probably should have gotten out on the lake earlier." "That's alright." Charlie answered. "I get more enjoyment on being out there than actually hauling them in." "Raquette Lake isn't the best fishing lake in the area. Serious anglers go to Long Lake. You can find anything up there, Bass, Northern Pike, even an occasional Muskie. It's wild. You really need a guide." "Speaking of 'wild', I thought that I was going to have a heart attack in the car yesterday when you started up on pointing out where we caught the fish. That was a big risk!" Charlie said, and took a swallow of beer. "I like to live dangerously," Fred chuckled. "It keeps the thrill going. The women never caught on, anyway" "Here's to thrills!" Charlie exclaimed, and the two men clinked bottles. "Speaking of thrills, what do you think those two women are doing? We could have gone to town and bought new dishes in the time it's taken to wash them," Fred observed. "I expect that they are putting on their bathing suits. Be prepared. If they're taking this long, they probably are trying on new ones," Charlie advised. "Oh, brother!" Fred gasped. "The first day, I thought that I was in a striptease parlor. The second set of suits was skimpier than the first. Who knows what the next step will be?" "Good—better—best, in my opinion," Charlie opined. "How much do these little numbers cost, anyway?" Fred continued. "Hey, I'm the accountant around here," Charlie retorted. "When you see me worry about it, you can worry, too. Anyway, I would expect about sixty bucks per copy. I believe that the less material, the more they pay." "Wow, that's thirty bucks per...you know," Fred quipped. "Depends on whether you get it in the morning, too." Fred shrugged his shoulders, still contemplating the math. "Look," Charlie went on, "these revealing suits have them all excited. What harm can it do? The girls are just enjoying the thrill of it. We're all alone here in this little cove. It's great eye candy for us and you can't deny that it's been paying great dividends in the sack." "Okay, Okay! I get your message." "If you don't mind me passing my eyes over your wife, you are free to gawk at mine as long and hard as you please," Charlie continued. "I know that's what they want us to do, so let them have it." "Can-do," Fred assured him. Before they could say anything more Pat and Maggie strolled out slowly from the cabin. It was a familiar parade route. This time they didn't bother with their husband's shirts, or other cover-ups. They were nude, except for the thin bands of the suits, their sunglasses, wide-brimmed hats and flip-flop sandals. They sauntered out slowly and deliberately, having no self-consciousness at their exposure. They never quickened their gait or raised their hands to their hips or in front of them to hide themselves. During their time at the lake they had acquired tans, so their suits looked even better than the day they had tried them on at Pat's house. There was a bit of redness where the juncture of their upper thighs met the bottoms of their suits that went unnoticed by the men. It is what had taken them so long to emerge from their lair, as they both required some razor touch-up. Fred and Charlie's heads swiveled round to catch the display. It was a moment of tough choices. On one hand was Pat with her swaying, curvy curves and generous cleavage. It was hard to pass by Maggie with her thoroughbred lines. "Wow!" whispered Charlie to Fred. "Just remember our agreement," Fred reminded him. "That goes double for you, Fred". It wasn't the just the show of skin that turned the men's heads. It was the quiet confidence of the women as they did it. Their demeanor sent a message to Charlie and Fred. It didn't say that they would tolerate the men's eyes slowly caressing their nearly nude bodies. The message wasn't that they wanted them to ogle them. It commanded the men, 'don't you dare look away from my sexy body.' Young women couldn't have carried it off, no matter how smooth and effortlessly lithe their youthful bodies might be. Accustomed to constant notice and attention, they would fail to command the men; to understand what stirred the men; how to ignite the chemicals coursing through their veins that drove them to pursue, prove oneself and win. Younger women would have presented themselves, hoping to please. They would have giggled from their own self-consciousness—a pretense of coquettishness; each would compare her assets to those of the woman standing beside her. They would have shied away from the men's primal instincts. Pat and Maggie sought them out. Their years had schooled them well in all of their lessons. They sauntered over to the collection of lawn furniture at the water's edge. Each lay face down on a flattened recliner. Neither had said a word during the long procession. They didn't have to. Maggie moved first. After untying the halter behind her neck, she rose up on her elbows. The men's eyes were glued to her in anticipation. She unclasped the brass front closure of her bikini top, showing a brief glimpse of breast before settling back down. "Would you rub some suntan lotion on me, honey?" she demurely requested. She handed Fred the plastic bottle, then folded her hands under her face as a makeshift pillow. Her red top lay loosely across her back and hung over the sides of the recliner like a smear of red lipstick on a man's white shirt collar. Matched Pairs Ch. 03-04 Fred immediately obeyed, pouring a generous amount of the white goo into his hand. He started on her back, tentatively sliding his fingers under the unclasped bikini top. Maggie said not a word, but reached back and drew it away, placing it safely under the recliner. Fred continued his task. "Maggie," Fred teased, "there's so much of you exposed that I don't think that there will be enough lotion to cover all of you." "Just spread it out, dear," she lazily instructed him. Meanwhile, Pat was attempting to get Charlie's attention. He hadn't taken his eyes off the display provided by Fred and Maggie. Pat had already unbound her own bikini top and lay in waiting with her own bottle of lotion. Finally, she gave up on Charlie turning to her without prompting. She reached as far as she could and tapped the plastic bottle on his leg until he turned to her. Being the more endowed of the two women, Pat's breasts refused to quietly tuck in beneath her. They partly squeezed out the sides. Charlie started on the back, like Fred had on Maggie. He saw her breasts leaking out, but avoided them. "Make sure that you do the sides, Charlie," Pat admonished. Charlie did as he was told, passing his hands along them many times. He thought he could hear her purr her contentment as he did so, but he couldn't be sure. He kept trying it over and over to find the answer. "Be sure to do the backs of my legs. The skin is very tender back there." It was Maggie interrupting his dream-like state. Charlie tried to glance with one eye at Fred stroking his hands up and down Maggie's sleek legs, and the other on his own assignment of oiling Pat's breasts. It wasn't working out. He resumed giving Pat his full attention. In time, he would be walking his hands up and down his wife's own lush pins. "I think that I'd like a cold drink!" Pat declared after absorbing Charlie's attention for awhile. "Me, too!" Maggie chimed in. "Why don't you guys go fill up the cooler while we girls get our tops back on?" Neither man was in a position to stand up without being embarrassed. They both wore loosely fitting trunks that would have tented nicely. They looked at each other with a hopeful expression that said aren't you going to volunteer? "I'm dying of thirst!" called out Maggie, sensing the delay. Fred stood and grabbed the wide-brimmed hat that Maggie had worn down from the cabin. He placed it over his erection. "I'll just take this hat back to the cabin so that it doesn't get lost." Fred announced, and he made his way to get the drinks. Charlie used the same ploy and followed. After the men disappeared into the cabin the women sat up and re-harnessed themselves. They looked at each other, stifling their laughter so that the men wouldn't hear them "I think that we got their attention," Pat declared. "I think so," said Maggie. "At least I saw part of Fred standing at attention before he grabbed my hat." "Yes," Pat agreed. "How obvious!" This time they couldn't help laughing out loud. ****** Fred and Charlie returned with the portable cooler. Each man took a side, as it was loaded with ice and bottles of beer. As they approached they saw that the women were sitting upright with the backs of the recliners fixed at a forty-five degree angle and their bikini tops were back in place. The game of 'peek-a-boo—oil my back' was over for the time being. They could also sense the women were talking about them, because they were leaning towards each other, but straightened up when they heard them approaching. "We brought the whole cooler full," Fred announced. "You'll have to switch to beer, though. We're all out of wine." "Past my lips and straight to my hips!" Pat exclaimed. "Beer will be fine," agreed Maggie. "I was thinking of switching, anyway." "That's easy for you to say, Madam Skinny," Pat cried in mock disgust. "You haven't gained a pound since eighth grade!" "You look fine," Maggie said quietly, opening a Labatt's. Pat made a face of disagreement. "Then, why don't you let the boys decide?" "Alright, I will!" Pat declared resolutely, bouncing out of her chair. "Now, you guys just stay where you are and don't say a word until I ask you." Fred and Charlie looked at one another, wondering what treacherous waters they were sailing into. "Where shall we start?" Pat asked. "Top or bottom?" "Save your best for last," Maggie advised. "Start with the legs." Fred and Charlie looked at one another again. It had become obvious that the show had been orchestrated by the wives while they were struggling to get the cooler full of beer. "Good idea!" Pat exclaimed. She was moving fast—too fast to allow the men a chance to slow down and analyze what was going on. Pat folded her hands in front of her chest, as if to remind the men to focus away from her breasts, and on her legs. After allowing a few seconds of frontal perusal, she about-faced to let the men see the back of them. "How about the Betty Grable look?" Pat asked as she bent from the waist and pivoted her head backwards to her audience. As Pat leaned forward the strong muscles of her thighs and calves screamed for attention. Although Pat was short, her legs were an impressive sight to behold. They appeared to hold up the round cheeks of her hips like Greek columns supporting twin pedestals. Better yet, her display of female musculature reminded a man of what they could do in a horizontal position. Pat turned to the side. The high-cut bikini bottoms made her legs look longer. She turned back to the front. "Well, that's it!" she declared. "Don't you guys have any comments?" "You told us not to say anything," Charlie reminded her. "Right!" Pat remembered. "Now you can speak." "It was good," Charlie mumbled. "That's it? That's all you can say?" Pat feigned anger. "What can I say, Pat? It was good," Charlie repeated. "What about you, Fred? Are they as you remember them?" she challenged him provocatively. Fred put up his hands in surrender. "No comment!" he insisted. "Leave me out of this." "Your problem is that you have no one to be compared to." Maggie saved the day and then drained her beer bottle. She bounded up and stood next to Pat in front of the men. The two women stood side-by-side. They were so different in body type, yet both were alluring. "Let's get to the top," said Pat. "That's all you guys think about, anyway." "Not true! Not true!" Fred protested, starting to get into the swing of the game. "We're back to 'no talking' for the men," Pat instructed. Fred shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "Show them yours first, Maggie," Pat ordered. Maggie turned her slender body sideways, displaying her profile. Her long legs and trim flanks were impressive, but her top half was spare. "Maggie, honey, they can't see you like that. You've got to show them! You'd better return to frontward." Maggie did as commanded. The wispy triangles of her suit exposed a good part of her spare, but firm breasts. "Maggie, what happened to them?" cried Pat in pretended shock. She stepped partly in front of the taller woman and lifted the corner of her triangular covering. She pretended to peer inside, as if looking through a keyhole. "Oh, there they are!" exclaiming as if she just caught sight of them. "Really nice, too, once you get your eyes used to the darkness." Maggie was a good sport with the joke at her expense. She stood motionless as the men ogled her. The triangular pieces of cloth that sufficed for bra cups puffed out and the outline of her hardened nipples were on display. The men broke into applause. "Now, I'll show you mine." Pat announced. "I think that we should call this a draw," Fred declared. "You both look great." "But I wanted to show you my..." "You are showing them right now," Charlie informed her. It was true. Pat was pouring out of her top. "I think that you girls did this little show to make us look at you in your new, racy bathing suits," Fred said. "We didn't get them to do laundry in," answered Maggie. "Charlie, I think that we're both lucky to have wives who can wear these things and look that good," Fred affirmed. "Don't you forget it!" Maggie commanded. Fred looked at Charlie and Charlie looked back. They were happy to have seen the show, but glad to have passed the dangers of it without running aground on rocky shoals. It takes a skillful and experienced navigator to sail the waters with such swift and treacherous currents! ********** TO BE CONTINUED Dear Readers, Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. If you have any comments, please send them to me. The site provides two ways to do so, either as a Public Comment, or as a private e-mail. You can do so by name or anonymously. See the form at the end of the chapter. AW