17 comments/ 71935 views/ 24 favorites I Just Don't Know . . . By: BarelyJust I'm not a lesbian. I'm not, really. But, something happened recently and I need to tell someone. I can't tell my friends. I certainly can't tell my husband. But, I really need to share this, get it off my chest. So . . .why not tell the world? That's why I'm here. Obviously, I'm going to be discreet, change some details, but, this is how it happened and this is why I'm so . . . what's the word? Agitated. Okay. Background. You need to know some things about me. I'm 34. I've been married for almost ten years. I worked for a while after college, but stopped when I had my only child, a daughter. I don't need to work, as my husband has a very good job. I stay active, spending time each week at a gym to try and stay fit. After my daughter's birth, I had to work hard to tighten up my figure, but I think I can honestly say I'm trim and healthy looking. I'm blonde, medium height and . . . God, I'm self-conscious talking about this . . . my boobs and bottom would be described as medium-sized as well. My husband says he loves my body, so that's good enough for me. I spend a lot of my time doing charity work as a member of women's organizations made up of women like me . . . rather well-off and bored silly if we have to sit around the house too much looking at our pretty furniture. One of the organizations I belong to figures in my story. It is a very old, very prestigious service group which holds fund raisers and makes donations to worthwhile charities with the profits. I've been a member for six years now and currently hold the position of Corresponding Secretary on the Board of Directors. The Board is still dominated by some of the most socially powerful women in our area . . . blue bloods who are very much into maintaining traditions and policies. One of these traditions is that each year, when a sub-committee meets to update the group's constitution, it is the duty of the Corresponding Secretary to hand-deliver the new constitution to all of the other Board members. Ridiculous in this age of computers and e-mail, really, but, try telling that to the president who can take your breath away with a withering stare should she be so inclined. So it was that, on an absolutely glorious summer day, I was in my car, driving to the homes of the other seven Board members, with copies of the proposed new constitution on the passenger seat beside me. I started out in mid-morning (my daughter was away at summer camp, so no responsibilities for me there) and by noon had delivered four of the packets. At each stop, I chatted briefly with these women who I knew so well, complimenting them on their lovely homes, gardens, and the like. And they were beautiful, some of the finest properties in the most private and upscale neighborhoods of our community. I turned down offers to stop for something to drink or for lunch as I wanted to complete my rounds before it got too late. I did have a quick bite at a restaurant and saw two more members by 1:30. One more stop then to make. Her name was Caroline Smith (not really, but it'll do) and, of all the Board members, I knew her the least. It was her first year on the Board and I had only spoken to her briefly at a few meetings. I had been impressed, however, by her enthusiasm and sense of humor. It seemed like some private joke was always lurking behind those eyes. She was my age, attractive, and someone who I thought I might enjoy getting to know. Caroline's home was in a wooded area on the outskirts of our town. Each house, stately and imposing was separated from its neighbors by large stands of wooded thickets. I found her street and then the number. Caroline's house stood in front of me and it was spectacular. A large colonial, with a circular driveway and an impeccably planted front lawn, it was right out of a home design magazine. I parked the car, grabbed a constitution and strode up the brick walkway to an enormous high-gloss black front door. I rang the bell and heard footsteps almost immediately. Caroline opened the door and greeted me warmly. "Well, it's the lady with the constitutions. Thank God - I've been on pins and needles just dying to read it cover to cover!" She grinned and invited me in. I was somewhat surprised to see her dressed in a robe and perhaps my eyes gave me away, for she said, "Please excuse the way I'm dressed. I've been getting some sun on my deck and just threw this on." She was a tall woman with dark hair and the robe couldn't hide the fact that she seemed to have a fine physique. "Don't be silly," I replied. "Perfect thing to be doing on a day like this." We stood in an expansive foyer and I handed over the constitution. I said, "Well, that's that. You're my last stop." "Oh, good," Caroline said with a smile. "Then, you're in no hurry. You can stay for a drink. I'd love some adult company." She explained that her kids were visiting their grandparents and that her husband was on a business trip so she was eager to have someone with whom to chat. My first thought was, "Oh, damn, I really wanted to get home," but she seemed genuinely interested in having me stay, so I agreed to have a quick drink. "How about a Seabreeze?" she asked. "Nice and refreshing on a hot day." "That would be lovely," I answered. "But, no alcohol, please. I'll be driving soon." "Oh, you are the good girl, aren't you? Let me just add a tiny splash of vodka. You've earned it with this silly mission of yours." I smiled and agreed. She was so warm and welcoming, I was suddenly in no hurry to get home. My husband wouldn't be there 'til after 7:00, so I thought, why not have some fun with this charming lady? We chatted as she fixed the drinks in her kitchen and she then suggested that we head out to her deck. A large sliding door connected the kitchen to what I can only describe as paradise. The deck was elevated and enormous. Beautiful teak chairs surrounded a large table with an off-white beach umbrella and four padded recliners lay beyond that. All this overlooked a backyard that featured two long perennial borders and a small circular pond in the center. The yard was surrounded on three sides by huge trees, giving it a sense of total privacy and isolation. It was simply the most beautiful yard I had ever seen and I told Caroline just that. "Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?" she responded. "I do love it here and spend most of my free time soaking it all in." As she spoke, she very casually removed her robe and revealed a modest two-piece bathing suit beneath it. "You don't mind, do you? I'm sorry . . . I don't want to make you uncomfortable." "No, of course not," I answered. "Enjoy." She sat down on one of the recliners while I took one of the straight-backed teak chairs. I should mention that I was dressed in my "Junior League uniform": a knee-length floral skirt and a front-buttoned cotton blouse. We sat, sipping our Seabreezes (Just a splash of vodka? Seemed like a bit more, thought I.), sharing opinions of members of our organization. Caroline proved to be just what I expected: an insightful, clever observer of the social scene. Time passed quickly as we easily conversed and our glasses were soon empty. "Now . . . you can't leave yet. This is way too much fun. Let me get us another round," she suggested. I put up no argument. She was right. This was fun and I was enjoying her company immensely. When she returned with the drinks, she said, "It seems a shame that you can't enjoy some sunning, too. Can I get you a bathing suit to put on? We look almost the same size." That was a stretch; actually, as she was considerably taller than me and fuller in build. "No, no . . . that's okay," I said. "I'm fine." But, actually, the thought of getting some sun was really appealing. As we sat drinking and talking, I casually unbuttoned the top button of my blouse and spread it open a bit, just to get some sun on my neck. Caroline seemed to take no notice. A few minutes later, though, I undid a second button and spread the blouse a bit wider. It felt wonderful as the sun's rays hit my neck and chest. This time, my hostess spoke up. "Well, it's obvious you want to get some sun too. Come on, off with the blouse. I won't tell a soul." I sighed, realizing she was right. I unbuttoned the rest of my blouse and removed it, revealing my modest, plain white bra. No different from a bikini top, really. "I've got to admit, that feels great." Caroline smiled and said, "Now it would be silly to stop there. Let's go. Off with the skirt." She seemed to be enjoying this scenario and my apparent shyness. I laughed a bit and said, "Good heavens! Is it the drink, the sun, or what? I didn't come here to put on a strip show!" We both laughed but I stood and removed the skirt. My bra was now joined, on hopefully not-so-public display, by a pair of pale pink, bikini-cut panties. "Ta-da!" I sang, as I twirled once before plopping myself down on a recliner. "Nice. God, you are really fit. You must be at the gym every day," Caroline said, admiringly. I smiled my thanks and said, "This feels wonderful. Thank you so much for the opportunity." Caroline passed me some sun block and I applied it as we continued our chat, totally at ease in each other's presence. At this point, everything was just fine . . . two new friends having a relaxing afternoon, soaking up some sun. Leave it to me to change everything. After a brief lull, I looked around and said what came into my mind. "This is so private. Do you ever get an all-over tan up here?" Rather than answering me, Caroline simply lowered a shoulder strap. There was no tan line whatsoever. "When I'm not expecting guests, I never wear a suit. It feels wonderful." "Well . . . don't let me stop you," I replied. "It wouldn't bother me a bit." Where the heck was this coming from? I don't remember being turned on, or anything. I just thought; why not let her do what she typically does? Caroline flashed me a sideways smile, almost like she was regarding me differently. Without a word, she lowered the other shoulder strap, reached behind her and unclasped the hook. The top fell away exposing her breasts for the entire world to see. Well, not really all the world – just me. And impressive breasts they were: fairly large, firm, and topped with nipples that seemed to be quite erect . . . not that I stared. Or, at least, I tried not to. We both sat back in our recliners and continued to chat away. I found myself continuing to sneak the occasional peek, figuring I was safe behind my sunglasses. Every time I looked, I noticed how firm they were, even though Caroline was lying almost flat in her chair. They looked real and I was dying to ask if they were, but somehow restrained myself. "So, do you like 'em?" Caroline's words startled me. "What?" "The girls. My ta-tas. What do you think?" I was truly flustered and tried to mutter something about not staring. "Don't be silly," Caroline said. "It's perfectly natural to take a look, to compare. I'm fine with it." Relaxing a bit, I said, "Okay, I'll admit it. I looked and they're beautiful. So round and firm. Boy, I could've used them in college." She laughed and said, "Yeah, they came in handy - very few dateless weekends." Then, taking off her own sunglasses, she studied me and said, "Yours look to be perfect for your body size. Of course, I can't really tell . . ." This obvious invitation to remove my bra would've sent me running to my car if I hadn't been drinking. Instead, my vodka-addled little brain figured it was perfectly reasonable for Caroline to want to see mine. So, with only a little hesitation, I undid the front clasp and revealed 'my girls'. Caroline didn't attempt to be coy. She gave them a long, hard look and stated, "Perfect. Really nice boobs. But you definitely want to protect them." She handed me the tube of baby suntan lotion. "Few things worse than sunburned nipples." I squeezed out some lotion and carefully rubbed it in. For the first time all day I got an actual sexual jolt as I skimmed over my ultra-sensitive nipples. When I'm turned on, my nipples are . . .um . . . out there. My husband calls them his gumdrops. Apparently, something was going on here because the gumdrops were almost inch-long cylinders. Rubbing in the lotion, taking my time, I actually thought I heard a little moan escape my lips but couldn't be sure. Breathing a bit raggedly, I handed the tube back to Caroline. We wordlessly resumed our relaxed positions and didn't speak for a few minutes. Caroline broke the silence with, "Ever been topless before?" I think I surprised her when I told her that I had. "Richard and I went to St. Martin two years after we got married. We went to this beach that had an actual nudist resort at one end, so there were a lot of topless women – and bottomless, come to think of it – walking back and forth in front of us as we sat on the beach. Richard told me I should take off my top and I told him that it wasn't going to happen. That was the first day. On the second day, I relaxed a bit and decided, 'Why not?' and discreetly removed my top. He was so surprised, and turned on; we left the beach after about ten minutes and raced back to our room. Wow." Caroline giggled, "Funny, huh? Not like he hadn't seen them before, but the moment . . ." "Exactly. By the end of the week, I was walking along the beach without my top, thinking nothing of it. Of course, back then you didn't worry about your picture showing up on some website. Don't think I'd be so reckless these days." "And the sex was never better, I'm guessing." "Unbelievable," I said with a laugh. "I walked with a limp for weeks." Seeing two empty glasses, Caroline said, "Time for one more round?" "Oh, no, I couldn't. What time is it anyway?" "It's quarter to three." She smiled, her voice dropping into a campy Sinatra imitation. "There's no one in the place except you and me." She may have sounded like Sinatra, but definitely didn't look like him. "Then set 'em up, Joe," I jokingly slurred. "Oh, why not?" Caroline stood up and before reaching for the glasses, did something so natural and easy that it hardly surprised me. She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her swim shorts and matter-of-factly peeled them down her hips, her knees, and her ankles. She threw them on her recliner, grabbed the glasses, and walked by me. Her breasts bobbed and her hips swayed. My eyes followed her, transfixed by the sight of her beautiful bottom, every bit as tanned as the rest of her. Now, in normal circumstances, I know I would've freaked out. These were not normal circumstances. Instead, I just smiled and thought how lovely this all was. I happened to look down at my panties and noticed they were no longer totally pale pink. In one spot – center, low, very low – they had turned a darker pink. They were noticeably moist and it was not perspiration, of that I was sure. I giggled. It seemed I was giggling a lot. I thought, "Well, we can't have this." So I raised my hips from the chair and pulled my panties off in one quick motion. I sat back down and reveled in the feeling of freedom that came with being totally naked. Caroline came back with the drinks. She spotted me and grinned. "Atta girl. Doesn't it feel wonderful?" "It really does," I purred, taking a sip of the drink. "Make time stop, please." "I wish I could. Hey. We compared boobs, let's check out the rest." "Caroline! You're unbelievable!" I stammered. But I looked at her. I saw puffy lips topped by a thin strip of dark, rather coarse hair. Caroline was looking at me, too. "Well, I can see you're a natural blonde, for one thing. Very sweet." I looked down at myself and saw my fleecy, thin pubic hair, a bit matted in the heat. I remember thinking how glad I was that I had trimmed it the night before. Caroline continued, "Your husband is a lucky man. You really are beautiful . . . all over." I smiled my grateful thanks at the compliment and gave in to the urge to eye my new friend, up and down. She reminded me of a showgirl, so tall and statuesque. She had to be all of 5'9" and her body was healthy and round. Every man's dream, I thought. With some difficulty, I asked, "Do you and your husband ever - you know . . . out here?" "Fuck?" she responded. Not 'make love', she said 'fuck' and it perfectly fit the moment's mood. "Yes, we have. But, more often I work solo out here. It's hard not to when it feels so good." With that, we stopped speaking and just continued to look at each other. The staring continued for what seemed like minutes. Caroline's chest was rising and lowering, her breathing a bit labored. Suddenly, she said, "Whoa . . . we need to be careful." I wondered what she meant, but was relieved when she reached for the baby lotion. "If you think sunburned nipples are bad . . . " She didn't have to finish the sentence. She squirted a gob of the lotion in the palm of her left hand and handed me the tube. I squeezed it and took a healthy amount on my index and middle finger. I began rubbing it in, first over my pubic hair and slowly lower, reaching my very moist pussy lips. I involuntarily shivered at the contact but continued applying the cool lotion to my very sensitive parts. "Take your time. Go slowly." Her words contained a very obvious message. I looked over at Caroline and our eyes locked. I watched her as she stood up and moved her recliner so that it was facing mine. She sat back down and started rubbing the lotion over her pussy. I was still rubbing myself but my eyes were on Caroline, as hers were on me. I watched as she spread her legs a bit. She used her left hand to spread her lips and her right hand rubbed the lotion into her glistening cleft. When her index finger made contact with her now exposed clit, she softly cooed. My own fingers were at work. I was so wet. I gasped as two of my fingers tentatively entered my pussy. I abandoned any pretense of dignity and I felt my legs splay wider apart. It felt fantastic. I wanted to cum and I wanted her to cum with me. Caroline brought one hand up to her chest and started to caress her breast. She pinched the nipple and moaned with the sensation. As if staring in a mirror I did the same, my nipple hardening as I worked it with my damp fingers. Oh, God, it was so, so good. "Cum for me," she said, softly and urgently. "I want to hear you cum." I nodded my head slowly, in rhythm with my hand's movements. "I want to. I want to." Caroline stood, and walked over to my lounge chair. She sat at the bottom and softly touched my knee. It was like an electric shock. She kneaded it and whispered, "Let me help you." I was beyond refusal. My legs parted and her hand moved up the inner side of my thigh. She stood while continuing her hand contact and knelt beside me, her knees on the deck. She lowered her head and I felt her lips explore my breast, softly sucking on my nipple. It was unbelievable. I was practically thrashing in the chair as I got closer and closer to an orgasm. As she sucked, that hand . . . that hand moved slowly northward. I felt her fingers cover mine and work them apart. A finger was now in my vagina and it wasn't my finger. Waves of passion were building at a fever pitch. My eyes, which had been closed, now opened to see the incredible sight of this stunningly beautiful woman licking my tit and rhythmically fingering my cunt. Yes, that was the word. She was fingering my hot, wet cunt and I was gone, simply gone. Her thumb grazed my clit, and then again, swirling around it as her finger moved in and out in rhythm with my own hips. I could feel Caroline's hard nipples rubbing against my body as she sucked and massaged me. This was rapturous. I wanted it to go on and on but I wanted to be there. Then, it happened. The dam broke and I saw a million stars explode as I reached a throbbing, glorious orgasm. On and on, I rode the wave, crying out (I don't know how loudly, but I also didn't care) in a moment like none I had ever known. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 02 Speaking the obvious: It would help greatly if you read the first part of the story before getting into this one. This is for Donna – friend, adviser, editor, muse. A few days passed before I heard from Margaret again. She filled me in with the information about the New York conference. I would be flying to New York on Tuesday of the following week and staying with Caroline at a very nice midtown hotel for two nights. There would be a short meeting the first afternoon and both morning and afternoon sessions the second day. Both nights would be free for dinner, a show, or whatever we wanted to do in The Most Exciting City in the World, as the mayor of New York would put it. Margaret was unsure whether Caroline would be flying with me. She did say that my fellow traveler would be calling me in the next few days. I found myself thinking about this situation almost non-stop. What was I hoping for? Did I want to further involve myself in something heretofore entirely out of character? Was I willing to admit that the memory of that day sent chills – excited chills – running through my body? I happened to be deep in thought about Caroline one afternoon when the phone rang and it was she. I was disappointed when Caroline talked to me as though nothing had happened between us. She immediately talked about the conference and members of other charity groups that she hoped to meet. I felt guilty as she brought up ideas about fund-raising and ways to increase our membership. Could it be that she had just forgotten about the day on her deck? Was it an everyday occurrence to her? I felt shallow, self-centered, and more than a little bit embarrassed that all I could think about was the day that I had pleasured my body with this woman. "So, are we going to be taking the same flight to New York?" I asked after Caroline seemed content to move on from conference ideas. "No. I have a contractor that's going to be starting some work in my kitchen here that morning so I have to come in a bit later. I should be getting to the hotel by early afternoon. You should probably have lunch and then we can get to the conference center for that initial meeting." "Okay," I replied. "I know some nice places for dinner, if you're interested." "Great. Me, too. There's so much to choose from in the city. I'm sure we may meet some women there who might want to join us." Caroline was so at ease and matter-of-fact. If she only knew how agitated I was at the thought of spending time with her. "Well, I guess I'll see you next week." It was time for me to admit that I had built up this 'relationship' into something she wanted to forget or at least bypass. "Great, I'm really looking forward to it. I'm sure we'll have a blast," Caroling responded. Then, with one sentence, she set my heart to fluttering. "I'll bring the vodka, you bring the baby lotion." Her voice betrayed a stifled grin. "I . . .," I began, but heard a giggle and a "Goodbye, Sweetie," from the other line before a click and a dial tone. * * * The plane flight was happily uneventful. I arrived at LaGuardia mid-morning, got a shuttle into Grand Central, and a taxi to the hotel. I was at the desk checking in at 11:00 o'clock. Somewhat shockingly, our room was ready right away. I found it on the 17th floor. It was spacious and sleek, with minimal design elements in muted tones with bits of color found in wall hangings and flower arrangements. The view from a large double window was of a busy street hemmed in by buildings that blocked any distant views. Two nice-sized twin beds were separated by a small night table. I immediately headed for the large, well-appointed bathroom for a shower, much needed after the grimy process that is air travel these days. The shower was wonderful. Large, with room even for a small bench upon which to sit, and boasting multiple shower heads that pulsed, throbbed, jolted, spanked . . . whatever you were in the mood for. I was happy with a gentle rain forest effect that soothed me for several minutes before I tore myself away. I put on a pretty, mid-length robe I had brought, happily neglecting to use any under garments. There's nothing like the feel of good quality silk gently rubbing against your naked body as you slink around a room. I then ordered lunch from room service and tried out the television channels as I waited for it to be delivered. A handsome young man, appearing to be of Mediterranean descent, delivered my lunch. He flashed his pearly whites at me as I fished in my purse for a tip. I behaved myself, keeping the neckline of my robe tightly closed (Perhaps too tightly – those pesky nipples of mine were surely making a guest appearance.) and making sure not to show too much leg as I approached him. I was somehow reassured that I found myself a bit turned on by his masculine beauty. I love men, after all. That is never going to change, regardless . . . I finished my lunch and saw that it was almost 12:30. Our keynote meeting was scheduled to begin at 3:00 in a conference center only a short walk from the hotel so time wasn't yet a concern. But I was wondering when Caroline would show up. She had said early afternoon so anytime now was possible. I found the doubts and nervousness coming back. I mean, we were going to be in a hotel room together. The possibility of embarrassment or discomfort was truly more than a possibility. It was a distinct likelihood. Surely the flip comment she had made over the phone was just a joke. Oh, my, I thought, what was I doing here? I called my husband at his office to let him know I had arrived safely. We spoke briefly and as he was signing off, he quipped, "Now don't go picking up any men in New York." I assured him that I wouldn't. * * * I had barely sat down with a magazine when I heard some fumbling with the door lock. There was a light tap as the door swung open and Caroline was revealed. She stepped into our room, put down her piece of luggage, took one look at me, and said, in a very disappointed tone, "Oh . . . you're not naked!?" For once, it took me less than a second to realize that this was just Caroline being Caroline. She had apparently decided to defuse the situation with her one-liner. So, to my infinite pleasure, I responded, "Almost, dearie. I'd be in big trouble if this were strip poker because I'm at one garment and counting." "And a very nice garment it is," Caroline responded admiringly. Then she took a big sigh and simply said, "Hi, Emily." "Hello, Caroline," I responded. "Come on in. Let me help you with that. How was your trip?" "Not bad, thanks. I'm here and I haven't given back the delightful food they served on the plane, so that's a plus. And how are you?" "I'm fine. I highly recommend the shower if you'd like to freshen up. It's got more speeds and nozzles than a 747." "Oh, yes, that sounds wonderful." Caroline paused and looked me hard in the eye. She added, "When I'm done, I'm guessing you'd like to have a little talk. Am I right?" I returned her gaze, nodded, and said, "Yes. Yes, I think that would be a great idea." I helped Caroline unpack a few things and as she unselfconsciously started to unbutton her blouse, I realized I had no place to go to give her some privacy. Of course, she could have undressed in the bathroom had she so chosen. So I resolved to be casual as well, sitting on the bed nearest the window and chatting about the upcoming conference. Caroline was down to her bra and panties in no time and never missed a beat in the conversation. She grabbed a robe and turned into the bathroom, still talking over her shoulder about a speaker she not only looked forward to hearing but hoped to invite to our big fund raiser social. Then, I heard the shower and took a deep breath wondering how our little post-shower chat would go. Caroline emerged several minutes later, looking tousled, scrubbed, and refreshed. And beautiful. She looked beautiful. She smiled as she shook her damp hair and sighed, "That was heaven. It was real work to tear myself out of there." She walked over and sat on the other bed, directly across from me. Our knees almost touched as she ran a towel across her hair, separating strands with her long fingers. She smiled and said nothing as if inviting me to take the lead. I bit. "Okay. That day – on your deck (Like she didn't know the day I was talking about? Geez, come on, Em!)– was wonderful." Every word I spoke was labored. I so wanted to say the right thing. "I just never experienced anything like that before." "And you're wondering if I had." She didn't pose it as a question. It just lay there. "You also want to know if I planned the whole thing, a big, thought-out seduction fueled by alcohol and baby oil. That about right?" I was flustered by her forthright approach but managed a slight nod. She had, after all, hit it right on the nose. "Well . . . second things first. No. I had no idea that anything was going to happen. I just really wanted to talk with you, have a conversation with a nice lady my age. What happened just seemed to happen. And, to be fair, you seemed to want it as much as I did." After a moment's hesitation, I admitted, "I did kind of ask a lot of leading questions, didn't I? And, yes, once it started, I didn't want it to stop." Caroline's eyes crinkled and she said, "I'm glad. It was one hell of an afternoon." I widened my eyes in agreement and admitted, "I'm sorry I ran out on you. I just . . . I was really confused." "Totally understandable. Which brings us back to your first question. While it was pretty obvious you were doing something you had never done before, in my case . . ." she looked off to the window and seemed to fight to regain her focus. "You don't have to tell me anything," I offered. "I don't mind. It's actually an interesting story, I think. You know that I went to an all-girls college. It was pretty remote and I was thrown in with a group of housemates that I got really close to. There were six of us, two to a room, and we shared a large common room that had couches and a tv and work tables. It was a place to hang out together which we did all the time. We were all gung-ho liberal arts majors anxious to share our ideas, particularly in the arts. We actually sat in that room, usually in our nightgowns, and read poetry to each other and listened to Chopin and . . . God, we were nerds!" She laughed in reflection. "Anyway, one evening, we decided to sketch, probably because of some art class one of us had. We enjoyed it and it became a regular activity. Eventually, we decided that one of us would model while everyone else would draw. Our ringleader - you know how every group has a dominant character - was going to model one night. I'll never forget it. She stood on a little bench we had in the middle of the room and announced, 'Tonight, ladies, I am going to portray the famous Venus de Milo . . . with arms.' With that, she worked her nightgown off her shoulders and lowered it to well below her waist, bunching it up so it stayed in place. She then struck a classic Grecian pose and said, 'Okay, make me look good.' We sat there with open mouths marveling at her chutzpah, but one by one, we got down to our sketches. She had great breasts and we regarded them with serious admiration. After that, art time was never the same. Every Wednesday night, we would bravely take our turns as figure models, eventually becoming comfortable in different degrees of undress, including totally nude. I know I found it exciting and my roommate admitted the same when I asked her." Caroline's eyes lit up as a memory appeared to pop into her head. "You won't believe this, but one of the girls actually snuck a guy she knew into our dorm one Wednesday. She had told him about our figure drawing and he had volunteered to model! We were freaking out but he was a confident thing. He stood there, stripped in a trice, and posed like Michelangelo's David. He had a beautiful body and seemed not at all embarrassed to be showing it." Caroline stopped and said, "This really isn't what we were supposed to be talking about, is it?" "Stop now," I replied, "and I will be forced to kill you." She giggled and went on. "Well, there we were all serious with our charcoal pencils at work when our model apparently remembered exactly where he was and what he was doing. His very nice little penis began to . . . change its attitude. You couldn't miss it. Millimeters turned into centimeters and it began to rise like a flagpole. Six young women, mouths open, pencils stilled . . . what a sight!" We both laughed at the thought. Caroline continued, "The poor guy stammered something about having to take a break and grabbed for his jeans but the memory was made. He could never look us in the eye after that and we could only look him in the crotch!" We laughed a bit more and Caroline got back on course. "The longer our group stayed together, the more we shared and opened up. It became common knowledge that a couple of roommates were doing more than sleeping in their room and eventually we all experimented a little bit - kissing, touching, and, in some cases, more." Her tone was suddenly serious as she thought back to what were apparently happy memories. "It was never anything really . . ., I mean, we all loved each other, you know? But, the physical stuff was just . . . I don't know, part of experiencing. I guess it taught me to love and admire the female form and I've certainly never lost that feeling." She looked at me and smiled. "Our day together sort of rekindled something from way back, I guess." I let her words hang on the air for a moment before responding, "Thank you for telling me that. You were lucky to have those moments." I returned her rather intense gaze with one of my own and said, "I feel equally lucky even if it was just one day." Caroline reached out her hands and I extended mine to her. "I'm glad we're here, Emily," she said. "Let's just relax and have a great two days." "Starting with that keynote address," I said, somewhat sadly, "We're going to be late if we don't get going." "Oh, gosh, you're right," Caroline said, glancing at her watch. "Hope that speaker doesn't go on too long. I think we should come back here for afternoon tea. Agree?" * * * The speaker was actually mesmerizing and mercifully succinct. Caroline and I mingled with other attendees, sometimes together and sometimes going our separate ways. It was almost 6:00 before we knew it and by then we had made dinner plans with four other women, two prior acquaintances and two we had just met. Our reservations weren't until 8:30 so we did have time to return to our hotel. Room service (same Mediterranean Adonis, I was happy to see) delivered a pot of tea and some sweets which we devoured. Caroline suggested we get more comfortable and so we both got back into our robes. This time, I left on my underwear, causing Caroline to comment. "Hiding those incredible nipples . . . so sad. Tonight, you've got to go braless, show the Big Apple what you've got." I sighed. "You're incorrigible. Actually, they're a pain in the neck. They show up at the damnedest times: PTA meetings, church services, and, of course, in the frozen food section. The boys at the Shop Rite are big fans." "So am I," Caroline purred. Aha, thought I, I see where she's taking this and we are both sober as judges. I decided to call her bluff. "Okay, just for you," I said as I untied the robe, let it fall to my waist, and unhooked my bra. My breasts spilled out and all it took was a quick pinch from my fingers to get their tips standing at full attention. I returned the robe to its original position and tightened the tie. My nipples stood firm and hard against the silk dressing gown. Throughout this naughty little show, Caroline maintained rapt attention. Then, she stood and walked over to my chair. The room had become very quiet. Caroline slowly raised her hand and cupped my breast through the material. She used her thumb to stroke the nipple. At this, I felt my knees start to click against each other. "Emily," she asked, ever so softly, "may I kiss you?" As an answer, I stood up. We were eye to eye and I slowly moved into her. She moved one hand behind my neck, gently held me there, and brought her lips to mine. Soft. Very soft. And sweet. A lipstick-sweet kiss, a first for me. Our lips parted just a bit and the very tips of our tongues met. This was so nice and so different. I was floating as Caroline opened her mouth a bit more, bringing mine willingly with it. Our tongues began a very gentle, rhythmic dance and I heard light moaning from this woman: my friend and, a bit shockingly, my lover. The kissing went on for minutes and I would've happily stayed in that spot for hours. Caroline, however, had other ideas. "Come. Let's lie down," she said. "No," I answered. Her look was one of great surprise and disappointment. "Not now, not yet," I explained. "I want to anticipate this. I want to sit in the restaurant and look across at you, with our own little secret. And then, I want to say goodnight to our friends and find some little place where we can sit, maybe listen to some music. And then, I want to come back here and spend the night with you, totally, with you. Can you wait for me?" Caroline slowly dropped to her knees, put her arms around my waist, and put the side of her head to my belly. "It will be torture," she said, "exquisite torture. But tonight, it will be worth it. For now, dare we trust ourselves to lie in each others' arms?" And we did. We lay side by side, breathing in our scents, listening to some of Caroline's beloved Chopin (she never outgrew him) on her iPod. I had seldom felt so comfortable and safe. In what seemed like minutes, it was time to get ready for dinner. * * * We ate at an Asian fusion place that one of the other women recommended. The food was interesting and the conversation never flagged. If any of our friends noticed my bra-free breasts, they had the good grace to keep it to themselves. I know I saw Caroline glancing at them more than once as we sat across the table from each other. Sadly, our positions meant there were no opportunities for playing footsie or caressing knees. We did however pass knowing looks as we anticipated what we knew was ahead of us. It was almost 10:30 when we said goodnight to our friends. We turned down their invitation of drinks somewhere claiming we were exhausted from our day of travel and meetings. So we hailed a cab and set off, supposedly, for our hotel. Instead, we headed way downtown to a club my husband and I had discovered a few years earlier. There, we sat at a small table in semi-darkness, listening to a trio who found a way to take Bach pieces and turn them into moody jazz variations. We sipped our drinks and sent little signals, physical and verbal. Our fingers touched and it was like a gentle electric shock. Caroline leaned over and whispered, "Those bass notes are hitting me right between my legs. Can you feel it, too?" I slipped off my shoe and slowly ran my toe up her shin. Basically, we were driving each other nuts. The trio took a break and we decided it was time to go. We behaved ourselves in the cab ride uptown and soon found ourselves in an empty elevator heading to our room. Caroline moved toward me and placed her hands on the rail on either side of my hips. Without a word, she kissed me and slowly moved her body forward into mine. The kiss felt like an orgasm. There was a rhythm to it, a pulsing, rolling movement. The muted bell announcing our arrival on the seventeenth floor broke into a moment so sensual that my head was spinning and I was gasping for air. On shaky legs, I followed my companion down the corridor to our room. Caroline immediately moved toward one of the beds and threw back the spread and covers. I stood there trying to catch my breath. When she turned toward me, I moved forward and said, "More kisses. Please." Caroline happily complied and we greedily kissed, our hands actively caressing shoulders, necks, and faces. Kissing her was incredible. I had a conscious awareness of how incredibly pleasurable this was, like nothing I had ever experienced. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 02 Finally, Caroline broke away and faced me. Her hands went around to my back and she found my dress's zipper. Eyes on my eyes, she slowly lowered it and removed the dress from my shoulders. I stepped out of it and did the same with her dress. She had on a beautiful peach-colored bra which pushed her ample breasts up and together. I couldn't resist. I moved to her and kissed my way down from her neck to her cleavage, breathing in a fragrance of lily of the valleys. My left hand cupped her right breast as I nuzzled my way deeper into the cleft while Caroline's heartbeat pounded in my ear. She murmured, "Oh, please, don't stop." Never releasing contact, we tumbled backward onto the bed. Kicking our shoes off, we continued our dance, kissing and massaging. Caroline deftly removed her bra and we embraced, naked nipples mashing. Dear God, I was making out with a woman, I thought. And I was loving it. Now Caroline gave her full attention to my breasts. For long minutes, she licked them, kissed them, and tongued my nipples as I squirmed beneath her. Then she sucked, gently at first, taking them in turn into her mouth, building the suction until I was thrashing on the bed. I barely noticed at first that her hand had arrived at the waistband of my panties, so intense was the attention that she gave my breasts. But as her fingers moved lower and invaded my pubic hair, I felt my hips rise and move into her caress. My very wet pussy lips parted as Caroline's finger slipped in. I moaned into her mouth as she kissed me, drowning in ever heightening passion. Her finger played with my lips, each rhythmic invasion going slightly deeper until she was fully inside me. I was gasping as I pulled back and begged, "Your mouth. Please . . . your mouth." Caroline removed her finger from me, raised herself up, and slid my panties off me. She looked down at me and said, "You are so beautiful." She stood and removed her own panties, all the while looking down at me as I quite literally throbbed in passion. She looked stunning, her tanned body glistening in the soft light of the bedside table lamp. She returned to the bed, kneeling beneath me, reaching for my slightly bent knees. She gently parted them and stared at my sex which was wet and winking at her, begging for her attention. She kissed her way up my legs, alternating soft pecks, left knee, right knee, left thigh, right thigh. By now, I was just about crying with need, my head rolling back and forth on a pillow. She slowly moved closer and I looked down just as she looked up at me, her mouth inches from her target. "Your pussy is mine," she whispered. I nodded my head up and down, unable to form words. Then, all I could see was the top of her head as her tongue found its mark. She was brilliant. Long, slow laps from her tongue going the length of my throbbing slit. Cock-like thrusts. A finger, in and out. And, the tip of her tongue finding my clit, touching it, surrounding it, swirling, swirling. I was gone. Just gone. My hips rising to meet her wonderfully soft mouth, I heard my cries and thought, don't let this end. "So wet. So wonderful," Caroline's voice drifted up to me. "I love your beautiful, wet pussy." And it loves you, I thought. An orgasm was building in me and her words were the proverbial straw. Caroline felt it, too, her tongue movements becoming more urgent and two fingers now pumping inside me. "Oh, God!" I yelled as it broke. Colors exploded in my head as Caroline pressed her mouth to me, lapping up my wetness. I was bathed in sweat as I rode a wave of such intensity that I could scarcely breath. Finally, she released her hold and backed away to look down on me. I took a moment to regain some semblance of normal breathing. But then, I sat up, took Caroline by the shoulders and spun her down to my vacated position. "I owe you. Double," I gasped. And then I kissed her, tasting my tasting on her mouth. I had thought of this moment for weeks. I knew that if we ever had another encounter, I would have to reciprocate. I would have to make love to a woman. Would I be able to? When the moment came, would I back away in realization that I just couldn't? Now that it was here, there was no hesitation. It wasn't about having to do this. I wanted to make love to Caroline, every inch of her, with my fingers, my mouth, my entire body. My kisses trailed down her neck. I love having my neck kissed and it became apparent that Caroline shared this trait. Her urgent sighs reached my ear as I pecked away. My hands occupied: one caressing her breast, the other holding her hand pinned to the bed. I moved lower with my mouth. What beautiful skin she had! I visited the swell of her breasts and heard her pounding heartbeat. Then, on to her breasts, big and round with rosy, large nipples that I couldn't get enough of. I was now astride her and the sensation of my pussy rubbing against her thigh was getting me close to a second orgasm. Focus, I thought. This is about Caroline. I slid lower. My mouth traced a path to her navel as my knees met the sheet. Caroline was swaying a bit from left to right lost in a rhythmic ecstasy. I looked up to see that her eyes were closed and her mouth was open in an expression of what could best be described as wanton lust. Hang on, sweetie, I thought. I'm going to do my best. I took my time. I softly stroked her pussy hair with my fingers and she jumped slightly at the touch. Then I blew on it and kissed around it. There was wetness around her labia and I moved to it, licking and breathing in the womanly scent. I had worried about being put off by this but instead loved where I was and what I smelled. And then, I did it. I put my mouth on her beautiful wet cunt. I kissed it and began to lick. Circling and then licking the length of it, gently spreading her open with my fingers. I was on her and in her and I couldn't get enough. Caroline's moans were music to my ears and I lapped at her juices as I felt her throbbing below me. Her clit was exposed and it seemed to be growing, from a tiny pea to a pearl. When I made contact with it, she shrieked and begged, "Oh, yes, yes, yes! More. Please, God, don't stop!" I inserted my index finger between her open lips. It was smooth and buttery as I found a rhythm, all the while licking away. I drank in the taste of a woman's sex and realized how thrilling it was. I tried to mimic Caroline's actions on me, but found my own approach, swirling my tongue this way and that, searching for an instinctive pattern to my movements. Then, Caroline's body suddenly went rigid and seemed to poise for a moment on the edge of a cliff. She let out a long, deep moan, a sustained note that told me she was there, she was cumming, and I was the reason, the instrument. I kept my finger inside her and kissed and licked around her pussy. As her moaning subsided, I tried to match her intensity in my actions. I had an image of a passing storm with thunder moving off into the distance as I tried to sustain Caroline's pleasure as long as I could. Finally, I slowly withdrew my finger and moved up alongside her. With chest still heaving, she looked at me and smiled a smile such as I have never seen. I stared down at her and slowly took my coated index finger into my mouth. I slowly sucked it like a lollypop keeping my eyes on hers. And then I lowered my face to Caroline's and kissed her, deeply. * * * We lay side by side, wordless, for several minutes. Caroline finally broke the silence. "Wow." "Yeah, that about sums it up," I replied. "You were amazing." "We were amazing." I took hold of her hand with mine. "I guess we have to go to the conference tomorrow." "Yes, we do," I said with a smile. "But it's not like it's the whole day." Caroline took a deep breath. "Mmm. Tomorrow is another day." "Another day." I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 03 Have you ever noticed how much you can see in the dark once your eyes become accustomed to it? I made this discovery at 3:17 a.m. as I lay in my hotel bed, wide awake, reviewing what had just happened and reflecting on how my life had changed. The blinking red light on the fire alarm on the ceiling; the thin, vertical slits of light that penetrated at the edges of the room-darkening curtains; the digital alarm clock numerals showing 3:17 in muted red – I could see all of them and their light enabled me to pick out shapes in the room as well. I looked to my left and there, in her bed, lay Caroline, blissfully unaware that I was losing my mind as she dreamed peaceful, calming dreams. I started by thinking back on our night together. Our lovemaking had been unbelievable, stunning to me. The newness of being with a woman and taking in her scent and her softness had been undeniably wonderful. Such a contrast to what I had known with my husband and my only other lover, a guy who I thought I had loved at my college. Sex with them was great. I loved the power of masculinity, the rawness as they approached their orgasms, but this, with Caroline, had been so different. It was patient and . . . what's the word . . . attentive. She had taken her time and seemed to seek out every experience that could heighten my pleasure. And after we had both reached our heights of passion, the pleasuring had continued. Gentle touching and exploring of our bodies, both in bed and in that glorious shower, as we took turns scrubbing each other clean. And then to bed – to our own beds we had decided – to catch up on the sleep that we both badly needed. And I did sleep for awhile, but, now, I was wired. The contented reflections on our night gave way, inevitably, to remorse over the fact that I had indeed cheated on Richard and fear that I could be found out. Thoughts piled on top of thoughts as I realized that this woman (who I barely knew, after all) now knew me intimately and could harm me with this knowledge. Who knew if she was stable? What if she was some possessive nut who would intrude on my family life or if she might be a blabber who would think it funny to let everyone in on our secret liaison? The more I thought, the more irrational I became until I was ready to bolt from my bed and run from the room in my nightgown. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. Easy, Em, I thought, let's not get crazy. I turned slightly and looked at Caroline. My eyes could just make out her shape and, as I watched, she sighed slightly and turned toward me. She was uncovered and her white nightgown was slightly unkempt, falling from her left shoulder to reveal the swell of her breasts. It was extremely erotic by itself but when her hand involuntarily moved to her hip and hiked the garment up a bit, exposing the full length of her leg, it moved to another level and I was lost. All the fears melted away and I knew, absolutely knew, that Caroline was in my system and she wasn't going away. I stared at her for minutes hoping that she would continue to explore herself in her sleep but the beauty of the moment must have served as a sedative because the next thing I remember was the shrill sound of the alarm clock signaling the beginning of another day. Apparently, Caroline had the strength of will to turn it off because I failed to stir until a gentle pushing on my shoulder brought me around. "Emily. Emily. It's time to get up." Caroline's voice was like liquid honey and eventually did the trick. She gradually came into focus above me and I was shocked to see her fully dressed. "What time is it?" I asked from what seemed to be a cotton-filled mouth. "It's almost 8:00. I let you sleep while I made use of the shower and bathroom. It's all yours now and breakfast should be arriving in the next 15 minutes or so, so look alive, sailor." I forced myself to rise and thought of how awful I must look in comparison to this beautifully put together woman standing beside me. "Don't look at me," I pleaded. Caroline smiled and responded, "You look adorable. It's all I can do not to attack you." She patted my bottom as I passed her on the way to the bathroom and I rather wished that she had undertaken that attack. We had our breakfast and chatted about the day ahead. The morning session went from 10:00 until noon, followed by lunch and an afternoon meeting with closing speeches that ran until 4:00. Caroline instructed me not to make any dinner plans, saying, "I have something special planned just for the two of us. We'll have time to have a snack after the conference and then we're off." "No hints?" I asked. "How should I dress?" She hesitated and answered, "Smartly. We're going someplace really nice." I stood up and walked over to her. "Can I kiss a clue out of you?" I bent and placed my lips on hers. Kissing her was the most delightful experience. She had the softest, fullest lips and I made sure to inhale to take in her fresh, subtle scent. "Nice try," she said when she broke away from my advance. "But you'll have to wait. Now let's get on our way." * * * Caroline and I went our separate ways in the morning session. I spent some time in a small seminar, meeting up with one of the women with whom we had dined the previous night. At one point, during a break, she took me aside and, with little preamble, looked me in the eye and said, "Emily, you need to be careful." I had no idea what she meant. "Excuse me?" I said in a confused voice. She sighed. "Look, it's none of my business, but, if you and Caroline are involved in some way, you need to be more discreet than you were last night." If she was watching carefully, I'm sure she saw me sag noticeably. I could feel my knees buckle at the thought that I had been found out. "What are you saying?" I asked, knowing full well. "At dinner, you two were exchanging looks that were unmistakable. You could have lit a theater marquee with the electricity you were generating. Now, again, you don't need to worry about me. As a matter of fact, I thought it was sweet, but others might not share my . . . acceptance. So, be careful, dearie." With that, she patted my arm and walked away before I could even mutter a denial. Wow. After my insomnia trauma last night, I needed this like a hole in the head. I did my best to hold onto my composure as I returned to the seminar and lasted until the buffet luncheon where I related the exchange to Caroline. She took it in far better spirit than I had. "Why, that jealous hag!" she laughed. "She just wishes you were giving her those gaga eyes of yours." "Well, apparently, the gaga-ing was mutual," I answered. "It wasn't just me and we really need to be more discreet." "Okay, Emily. I promise to ignore you mightily . . . until I get you alone. Then, you'd better watch out. Now, eat your greens." She serenely returned to her meal and I decided to relax and do the same. * * * The afternoon session passed quickly and we returned to our hotel room where, at Caroline's suggestion, we both got undressed down to our undies and took a nap wrapped in each other's arms. It was heavenly. There was a peck or two and some gentle stroking of cheeks and arms, but we actually did fall asleep. It was undeniable to me that I truly cared for this woman. I felt as ease with her and thanked the fates that had conspired to bring us together. We had a light snack of sandwiches and tea thanks to our good friends at room service and then got ready for what I now referred to as our mystery date. I put on a charcoal-colored suit over an ivory blouse that plunged to show just a hint of décolletage. A strand of pearls completed the look and I was happy with the effect. I couldn't help watching as Caroline got dressed. All these years of women's dressing rooms at clothing stores, locker rooms at the gym, and I had never so much as snuck a glance at another woman. Suddenly, there was a woman whose body mesmerized me and here she was, mere feet away, apparently unaware that her reverse striptease was driving me crazy. She was utterly at ease in her state of undress and I drank her in. Her glorious breasts, round and firm with large areolas surrounding nipples that were begging to be sucked on. Her bottom, large but without a bit of sag, and her long, tanned legs that led to a delta-shaped pussy that I had licked at less than 24 hours earlier. As I stared, I felt a moist tingly signal beginning to form in my own private region. I fought the urge to attack her right then and there and instead just watched as she donned her elegant bra and panties. Finally, she slipped into a rich burgundy dress which was a perfect match to her dark beauty. We exchanged compliments and were off at 7:30, bound for who knows where. A taxi took us a short distance and I immediately knew where we were. How could one not recognize the vast courtyard and fountain at Lincoln Center? We got out and I grinned as I asked, "The opera?" Caroline shook her head from side to side. "It's ballet night, Emily. We're here to see Giselle." Now, all girls go through a stage in their adolescence when they are totally smitten with either ballet or horses. Me, I was a horse girl who begged first for riding lessons and then a horse of my own. My parents held firm and I outgrew the phase. My experience with ballet was quite limited so I found myself excited at the opportunity to see a great company in a wonderful hall. Our seats were center orchestra about 10 rows from the stage so I got to drink in the beauty of the performance from close range. It was just wonderful. The first act was full of happy peasant dances but ended with the heroine's collapse and death. After intermission (during which we sipped champagne at a bar in the lobby), the mood got even darker as the dead Giselle joined a group called the Wilis in ceremonial dances of death. She ended up saving her hero, Albrecht, from the Wilis' clutches and did a duet with him that overwhelmed me. The dreamlike music, the darkened set, and especially the amazing lifts that the couple performed were stunning. I had tears rolling down my cheeks when I felt Caroline's hand on top of mine and looked to see that she, too, was profoundly affected by the mood. I left the theater a newly-christened balletophile. The streets on the Upper West Side where alive when we left Lincoln Center so we decided to walk the relatively short distance to our hotel. Arm in arm, we strode on and I expressed how grateful I was to have been exposed to such a glorious work of art. "I knew you'd love it," Caroline said. "You have the soul to appreciate it." Right there, on West 58th Street, she stopped, took me by the shoulders and kissed me. The stream of pedestrians meant nothing to either of us as we shared the most romantic of caresses. I'll never forget that moment. We thought of stopping for a drink but instead decided to go right back to our hotel room. Inside, we headed for the window and looked out on the electric splendor of the city. We stood there, silently, for minutes on end willing the moment to last. "It's been quite a couple of days," I said. "It's not over," Caroline replied. "Tonight, you're still all mine." She kissed me and said, "Let's use that shower one more time." We undressed each other and I noticed that Caroline's hands were trembling much as mine were. We simultaneously unclasped each other's bra and stood there, wearing only panties and took turns kneading, kissing and sucking the other's breasts. The room was lit only by a dim night light and the sight of Caroline in front of me was intoxicating. Soon our panties were gone and we walked to the waiting shower. * * * We set the shower to a gentle pulsing and found the perfect temperature setting. And then we kissed, the water pouring over us as we got bolder and bolder with our tongues. I loved the feeling of Caroline's round, womanly body against mine and gasped as her hands suddenly found my ass cheeks and pulled me into her. I began to kiss her neck and felt the passion level elevate as Caroline moaned in response. My knees flexed and I dropped to the floor of the shower as I kissed my way down her body. Now it was my hands kneading her bottom as I followed the rivulets of water down to her wet, welcoming pussy. My tongue found its mark and Caroline ran her hands over my hair as she beckoned me to continue. I wanted nothing else. Instinctually, I felt myself turn and sit on the shower floor with Caroline's pussy right above my face. She spread her legs wide for me and I used long, slow licks on her wet, wet lips. I found her clit with my tongue and I found my clit with my left hand. This was a watery paradise and I can only imagine the pornographic picture we must have made as our bodies writhed with the rhythm of the moment. Caroline's moans deepened and I could actually sense a difference in the liquid flow as she came on my mouth. Her knees quivered and for a moment I thought she was going to hit the floor but she steadied herself and was soon pulling me upward and gasping, "Come . . . come with me . . . the bed." We hurriedly patted ourselves semi-dry and raced to the bed. Our embrace was almost primitive; we were so consumed by raw lust. We kissed and grabbed and then Caroline suddenly released me and spun into what even I knew was the 69 position. She was above me on her knees and I felt her hot breath on my cunt as I attacked hers in kind. Oh, God . . . this was incredible. The experience of giving and getting, simultaneously, in this mirror-image position was just too much. In no time, I was cumming, moaning into her pussy lips as jolt after jolt ran through me. I fell back and gasped for breath with the satisfying sound of Caroline orgasming yet again from the other end of the bed. You could just about hear our heartbeats as we slowly came down from this incredible high. Caroline turned and joined me on the pillow. She looked me deep in the eye and said, "How many years did we waste before we discovered this?" "Too many," I responded. "Way too many." And there we lay, just taking the time to lie in each other's arms and savor the moment. * * * We slept together in my bed, naked. I woke up once and stroked her velvet smooth skin causing her to purr lightly. No apprehension this time. I was at ease next to her. In the morning, we had time to go to the hotel restaurant for breakfast before our flight (the same plane for both of us this time). We chatted about the conference and then the ballet. "So, tell me, Emily," Caroline began. "And be honest. When you were watching the duets last night, whose body were you focusing on, Giselle's or Albrecht's?" She smiled wickedly as she tried to corner me on my new-found interest in the female form. "Hmmm," I said as I pondered the question. "Well, it was very hard to resist that bulging codpiece he had. I found myself wondering if it was all him! But, really, I did appreciate both of them. She was so slim and elegant. And, truth be told, I actually thought at one point what a tremendous lover she must be, so lithe and flexible." I giggled and so did Caroline. Then Caroline turned serious. "Look. I want you to know . . . you have nothing to worry about. With us, I mean. This thing we've discovered . . . I'm never going to be a threat to your life and your happiness. I love my husband and I know you love yours and we're not going to do anything stupid that might jeopardize that." I smiled and nodded. "Just know that I'm so glad to have formed this friendship with you and I hope we'll continue and I know we'll be careful, okay?" Her rambling, hesitant speech was obviously heartfelt and much appreciated. "I know, Caroline. And I trust you. And . . . I love you in a friend-love way, you know? This . . . this sexual thing we've discovered, it's just opened my eyes to something new and glorious and I don't want it to end, so I'm not worried. I don't know yet how it'll be with Richard, but, at this point, I have no plans to enlighten him on what we've been doing." "Oh, goodness, no!" Caroline nearly shouted. "This is something that needs to be concealed. We're friends, that's all anyone needs to know. And friends sometimes go places together and spend time on their decks getting sun . . ." "As I recall," I said coyly, "that deck of yours was the root of all evil. Who knew that an innocent woman delivering constitutions would be treated in such a way?" "Treated. Yup, I'm pretty sure it was a treat for you." Caroline smiled and added, "If we hurry, there may be time for a treat before we head to LaGuardia." * * * We hurried back upstairs and grabbed each other having barely cleared the door to our room. We kissed deeply and I soon had Caroline pinned to the wall, my hands rubbing her everywhere I could think of. My right hand hiked her skirt to her waist and reached around to the top of her pantyhose. Still kissing, urgent moans coming from both our throats, I worked my fingers under the waistband and moved down to her ass cheeks. And then around the front and lower, to find her wet, welcoming pussy lips. My middle finger entered her and she half-sobbed as I pushed my way in, and up. I was surprised by my own aggressiveness as I slipped my finger in and out, fascinated by her wetness and warmth on my finger. We broke the kiss and were eye to eye. Caroline's breathing was ragged and her words urgent. "Oh, God, yes . . . yes . . . please, Emily. Don't stop." I went to her neck with my mouth and was there when I heard her wail. She came, drenching my finger and nearly collapsing against the wall. And then she was pushing me backward to her bed. My legs hung over the side and she parted them with a violent passion. She reached up under my skirt and tore down my pantyhose and panties in one swift tug. Then she buried her mouth between my open legs and began to suck and lick and invade me with her own fingers. Two fingers plunging in and out and a mouth sucking on my clit as I lay back and vocalized sounds that I had never heard myself make before. It was quick. It was probably not more than a minute before I felt like I was soaring to the ceiling in the middle of another stupendous, shattering climax. This was sex, pure and raw, and I loved it. * * * Our flight home went smoothly. I thought of how fellow travelers must have regarded us: two stylish women returning from a conference, looking for all the world like the society women we were. How could they know otherwise? But, I knew. I knew I had changed and would never be quite the same. Funny . . . my story title no longer fits because I do know and I'm fine with it. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 04 Please check out Chapters 1, 2, and 3 before reading this. It'll help. Several months passed and my life settled into a pattern of near normalcy. I had no trouble convincing myself that things were fine with my husband and was able to continue seeing Caroline on a regular basis. It was ridiculously easy, in fact, since both our husbands worked long hours and our children went off to school each day. We would meet about two or three times a month and would generally start the day with some sort of activity out of the house – a museum visit, clothes shopping, or a quick stop at a coffee shop but inevitably, we then went either to Caroline's house or mine. Sex was the binding element of our friendship - that was not questioned. I mean, we both genuinely enjoyed each other's company and had very companionable senses of humor and interests, but when we were out, I know all I could think of was Caroline's embrace and her kisses and her sweet, wet pussy. By the time we arrived home, it was all I could do to keep my hands off her until we had crossed the threshold into our sanctuary of safety. Our encounters never failed to bring us both to stunning heights of fulfillment. I loved Caroline's feminine curves. Her body was truly voluptuous in the best possible sense – full, ripe breasts and hips, lips that were made to be kissed, and a thick mane of chestnut hair that I loved to twirl in my fingers as I went after those ruby red lips. As we became more and more accustomed to Sapphic lovemaking, we found new ways to heighten the experience. One day, we brought my laptop into bed with us and found a very erotic video to watch on a rather raunchy website. In it, two women got into a position in which they sort of overlapped their legs like scissors and rubbed their most private parts against one another (I'm sure there's a name for this). We watched the video as we fondled each other and soon tried it out ourselves. As we were highly lubricated, it was squishy and lush and really, really hot. I loved the fact that I could watch Caroline's face and see all of her body as we writhed together. We had orgasms that just about arrived in unison and I almost felt that we were worthy to be on the video screen ourselves. Other days brought aromatic oils and cute little toys that buzzed and probed. And it never got old. So we came to a frigid day in January. Caroline arrived at my house mid-morning and after a brief look at TV over a cup of tea, we headed upstairs to our guest room. It was an unspoken rule that we never used the master bedroom in either house. It just wasn't even considered. Caroline was in an aggressive mood and had started ravishing me with kisses as she rubbed my breasts through layers of winter clothing. In short order, she pulled my ski sweater over my head, and soon did the same to the turtleneck I had on. It was as she was licking me in the valley separating the cups of my bra that we heard noises outside. A car door, footsteps on the front brick path and the stairs, followed by the twin-tone of the doorbell. "Dammit," I said as I bolted from the bed to peek through the curtains. I couldn't see the front porch but I could see the Lexus that belonged to my closest friend, Charlotte. Charlotte, who I had known since college and who had been as close to me as my own sister. I looked over at Caroline, told her who it was, and watched her take over control of the situation in a millisecond. "Get dressed, go into your bedroom, and lie down. You felt faint and I brought you upstairs," she barked. "I'll get the door. You've got 30 seconds, so go!" With that, she straightened her own clothes and strode from the room. I heard her descending the stairs as the bell sounded a second time. I threw on the turtleneck and sweater as I moved in double time to my own bed. Caroline reached the front door and opened it just as I was puffing up my pillows and lying down. I could barely hear her voice and Charlotte's as she gave her explanation of my sudden swoon. The fact that I was terrified probably helped give me an appropriately washed-out appearance which only got paler as two sets of footsteps approached from the first floor. Charlotte came in first and her expression was one of real concern. "Em . . . what happened?" I looked at her pitiably and softly croaked, "I don't know. I just suddenly felt all fuzzy headed. It's nothing, really." I could've been Meryl Streep. Caroline chipped in, "Yeah, like I said, she just got all pale and shaky. It came out of nowhere. Do you have any ginger ale, Emily? I'll go get you some." I nodded and said there was some in the refrigerator, so Caroline went off on her 'mission of mercy' leaving me alone with Charlotte and dreading the situation. I hated lying to my best friend. Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed and ran the back of her hand across my forehead before moving to my wrist to take my pulse. She asked if this had happened before and then, looking quizzical, she added, "You're not pregnant, are you?" I shook my head and sighed, "Oh, God no. No, no, no. I probably just need something to eat. Please don't worry." Caroline walked in at that moment with the ginger ale. "Hmm, pregnant," she said with a smile. "That could be it. You should get tested, Emily. But for now, have a sip of this." Charlotte and Caroline had met before and they chatted easily but I did sense something of a distance between them. Charlotte had noticed our growing friendship and I detected a bit of hurt feelings in her manner. I resolved to remedy that both to keep my friend happy and to make sure she had no reason to think there was more than friendship to my relationship with Caroline. As I began to show more energy after my Camille-like episode, I reminded them that they were both invited to a cocktail party a week from Saturday. We were having seven couples over for the evening and it would be the first chance for Caroline and Charlotte to chat at length and to meet their respective mates. Caroline looked at me doubtfully and said, "Well, you'd better take care of yourself or we'll be sipping drinks in a semi-private room next Saturday. I'm going to get going. Charlotte, do you mind staying with the swan here for a bit?" "Of course not. Thanks for getting her up here safely." With that, Caroline was off and Charlotte and I spent the next half hour talking about nothing in general and I began to 'gather my strength', congratulating myself at the time on the narrow escape Caroline and I had made, thanks in large part to her quick thinking. Over the next week and a half, I didn't see either Caroline or Charlotte but spoke to both of them on the phone. Caroling shared my relief that we hadn't been caught and Charlotte inquired into my general well-being. I assured her that I was fine and that I was looking forward to seeing her at the cocktail party. * * * The party went like so many other get-togethers I had hosted or attended over the years. Couples went their separate ways; men huddled to talk about finances and golf; women discussed their kids, books,s, and other time-worn topics. I was happy to see a nice flow of bodies from one location to another. It was a fluid mixture and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. The level of drinking was moderate as people seemed more intent on talking and eating hors d'oeuvres than becoming obnoxiously plastered. So it went until I announced that coffee and dessert was available in the dining room. For the first time that evening, everyone was together and a topical conversation ensued. Someone brought up national politics and before long, we were discussing how normal it seemed that America had elected a non-white president. This led someone to pose the question of how long it would be before an openly gay person could hold the office. Peter Willis, a friend and business associate of my husband, seized the opportunity and cracked, "Hey, if a hot-looking lesbian ran, she'd win on the heterosexual male vote alone." This got laughs from the room and by chance Caroline and I made eye contact just for an instant and couldn't avoid what I would describe as conspiratorial smirks. That was it. Just a nod and a giggle between friends . . . and lovers. I thought nothing more of it. Our party wound down and guests pretty much left en masse having had, they all told me, a wonderful time. * * * I was in the kitchen the following Monday morning when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Charlotte standing there with a look on her face that was as cold as ice. She walked in without a word and reached the center of my living room. Turning to face me, she practically growled, "How stupid do you think I am?" Well, if it had been a lighter moment, I might have suggested that that was a leading question. Instead, I gaped at her and answered, "What are you talking about?" She shook her head and, as if talking to herself, sneered, "Faint. You felt faint. Caroline took you upstairs and made sure you were okay. All the time, you were laughing at me." She paused, gathered her breath, and continued with the crusher. "You and she are lovers. I walked in on you. I realize that now." My heart was pounding out of my chest but I fought to sound calm. "Are you crazy? What in heaven's name are you talking about?" "I thought there was something funny going on, but I couldn't pin it down. And then, Saturday night, Peter made that crack and I saw you. I saw the two of you. That look. That look opened my eyes. Emily, how can you? Where did this come from?" She was rolling now and her voice crescendoed right over my vigorous head shakes of denial. "You have a family. You have a daughter. You have a wonderful husband. If he finds out, it'll kill him!" "He won't find out." And then silence. I wanted to reel in the words as though they were on a string. But they were out there, floating across the room and could not be erased. Charlotte just stared at me with her mouth agape. I was frozen to the spot, unable to voice any call back or denial. After what seemed like an eternity, Charlotte sighed ever so softly and walked to the door, leaving me rooted to the spot. I heard her open the door and close it gently behind her. And then I started shaking. * * * I didn't tell Caroline. I just wanted to think things out first. I really couldn't imagine Charlotte telling Richard although, more than once, in the middle of that night, I woke in a cold sweat to semi-conscious nightmares – creations in which my world was collapsing as Charlotte told everyone on the planet all that she knew. I toyed with the idea of telling Richard myself, but found I wasn't nearly brave enough to do so. It was on Thursday that my phone rang, mid-morning. Caller ID revealed it was Charlotte and I almost let it go but on the fourth ring, I picked it up and said, "Hi, Charlotte." Her voice was business-like, without a trace of warmth or forgiveness. "I need you to come over. Now. Please." "Twenty minutes," I replied and hung up without another word. I entered Charlotte's kitchen via the back door, not bothering to knock. This was standard procedure. Charlotte was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her. She motioned to the coffeemaker and said, "Help yourself." I did so and sat down across the table from her. We sat in silence for a few moments. I finally broke it with, "I'm sorry." She waited a moment before responding. Her face was devoid of emotion. "I hoped I wasn't right. I hoped I was being a fool but . . . I knew I wasn't." She then asked how it had come about and I recounted (in very abbreviated form) what had first occurred on that day in the summer and later in New York City. She listened, expressionless, not asking for extra details, just focused on my words. "I take it it's good." "What?" "It must really be good for you to . . . do this. To take this chance. I mean, you wouldn't be this reckless, this . . . insane, if it wasn't good, to the point of being intoxicating, no?" I stared at her, weighing my words. "Yes. Yes, it's . . . it's amazing. I didn't go looking for it and I really don't believe Caroline did either. But we . . ." "Show me." Her interruption was sharp and sudden. "Show me. Make me understand." I was aghast. "Charlotte, now stop." I stumbled for words as I shook my head. "You know there's no way . . ." "Show me or I'll tell Richard." Her green eyes suddenly blazed and her hands were pressed against the table so hard that I could count the veins running through them. I didn't truly believe her threat for a second, but all the same, she had me scared. Charlotte was a tough cookie, someone I loved having as a friend because I knew if I needed her backing in a dispute, she'd always be there, fervent and fiery. Now, that aspect of her personality worked to inspire in me a fear of where this was going. She stood up, crossed to me, grabbed my hand rather roughly and said, "Come on. I'm not kidding." She pulled me to my feet and, over my rather lame protests, led me from the kitchen, upstairs to her bedroom. The master bedroom. No prohibitions in this environment. She half-threw me on the edge of the bed, surprising me with her strength. Charlotte is not a big woman, standing only about 5'2" and barely weighing 100 well-toned pounds. She stood in front of me as I blubbered one more protest. "Charlotte. We can't do this. For God's sake, we're like sisters! What are you thinking?" She stared down at me. "Hmm. Sisters. Incest turns a lot of people on. Kind of kinky, isn't it?" She was angry but a trace of a smile crossed her face. By God, I thought, she might actually be enjoying this! Suddenly, in a swift pull, the college sweatshirt she was wearing was over her head and on the floor. She was left with a plain white bra covering her small breasts which, I couldn't help but notice, were heaving with the exertion of her actions and were topped by two distinct nipples threatening to cut right through the cups of the garment. My head was spinning. I felt like Alice, spinning like a top on the way down the rabbit hole. But I also realized I no longer felt like running. I watched, mesmerized, as Charlotte unbuckled her belt and shimmied out of her jeans. Now it just was that bra and a pair of dotted Swiss bikini panties, white with red dots. I could see the dark curls of her pubic hair through the sheer panty material and realized that I was responding to the raw, intense sexiness of this mad, mad moment. She sat down next to me. "I want to be kissed," she said. "I want to know . . ." Our eyes locked. She moved in and found my mouth with hers. I locked my lips shut and leaned back on my extended arms to support myself as she kissed me. A sound formed in my throat, one of refusal that even I recognized was half-hearted. If anything, it sounded like someone saying, "No, no, don't, don't . . . don't stop." Gradually, her lips won out, slowly separating mine and working her tongue forward. She smelled wonderful and I felt myself being won over by this craziness. Her hands took hold of the back of my head and the kiss went on and on, getting hotter and wetter. The girl knew how to kiss, using her tongue to explore and making breathy, mewling sounds that were incredibly arousing. The random flashes that entered my brain saying, "Stop! This is Charlotte, you can't!" became less and less frequent and finally faded away like a train whistle gradually disappearing into the countryside. Charlotte finally broke the kiss and started unbuttoning my sweater. As she did, I kissed my way down her neck and heard her moan of pleasure at the touch of my lips on her skin. Once my sweater was gone, I stood and quickly removed my slacks, then rejoined Charlotte on the bed, taking her in my arms as we slid, side by side, to a horizontal embrace. And we kissed. And caressed. Charlotte was obviously new to this and it was apparent that she was fascinated by the novelty of it. Her hands were everywhere – my shoulders, down my arms, along my outer thighs and up to my bottom, which she squeezed and kneaded with mounting urgency. Then she lowered a bra strap from my shoulder and pulled the cup back until my very-erect nipple was revealed. She stared, then kissed it, and began to suck, gently at first and progressively harder and with more slurping sounds until I was moaning, begging for more. Soon, both of our bras were gone and we were alternating attacks on exposed nipples. Charlotte's little breasts and their firm, coral-colored nipples were heaven to suck. I found I was taking almost her whole breast into my mouth and she was loving it. As I sucked, she was first kissing and then sucking on my neck, down near my collarbone. I remember thinking, "This is rough! I've never had such urgent, hard sex before." And it was thrilling in its perverse way. I gave up my hold on Charlotte's breasts and moved lower, trailing kisses down her trunk to her navel, which I licked as I found the waistband of her panties. She arched her back to help me slip them off and it was Charlotte's hands on the top of my head that told me where she wanted me to go. I slid lower as the panties did the same and, like a snake, my mouth slithered through her dark brown pussy hair and found its target. Charlotte's softly moaning voice barely registered as my hands met at the top of her thighs and pulled apart, revealing dewy-wet lips of multiple folds that begged to be explored. And explore I did, starting with a long, slow south-to-north lick that drew a shudder from far away, near the headboard. Then darting pecks and in and out thrusts, and finally, with my hand gently working the hood upward and away, contact with Charlotte's clit. I gave it my all – swirling wet lashings of varying degrees of contact and it must've worked because Charlotte was a sobbing, screaming, rolling mess, in a trance of lust as she ate it all up. Actually, it was I doing the eating but she was a willing subject. And so wet! My goodness, my face was coated with Charlotteness, a taste subtly different from Caroline but every bit as thrilling. I added a finger to my act, easily sliding it into her and settling into a smooth liquid rhythm in concert with my tongue. At one point, I looked up and saw Charlotte's head rolling from side to side while she tugged on her erect nipples with both hands. This intense physical reaction had my rapt attention. With noise and movement, she made it obvious that all the right spots were being hit and when the crest was reached, she practically levitated. She came in a spurt of wetness as I sucked her nubby clit for dear life. And then, she fell back to the bed, gasping. I quietly moved up next to her and watched as her breathing returned to a normal state. It took a while. Then, we lay next to each other, both of us looking up at the ceiling wondering what the heck we should do or say next. It was Charlotte who gathered the courage to speak up. "Holy shit." It was a barely audible whisper. I didn't respond. "I mean," she paused, searching for words, or strength, or both. Then a sigh. She looked across at me. "I . . . I'm sorry. But . . ." "Stop," I said, as I sat up. "Did you like it?" A wide-eyed nod indicated that, yes, of course she had. "Well, then, let's not talk. Just lie back and enjoy the feeling." More silence. And then, Charlotte spoke without turning to face me. "I don't think I can do that. What you did, I mean." I was confused at first but it dawned on me that she was referring to reciprocation. The poor thing felt she had to go down on me now but it was beyond her physical, or emotional, capability. "You don't have to. Really. It's fine. Probably better that you don't." I was struck by the intense silence in the room every time I paused. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 04 "But, I should," she answered. "I mean, you did that for me . . ." "Charlotte," I searched for words which finally came slowly, separated into carefully formed thoughts. "Can we just say this happened and move on? I'm so incredibly sorry you found out and were hurt and I love you so much . . . I don't want this to be crazy for us. So, please, can we just . . . be best friends again? Please?" This whole speech came with my eyes still firmly glued to the ceiling and the big fan that was motionless on this winter day. Charlotte sat up and kneeled over me. She waited until I finally found the courage to look at her. "Okay." I had never in my life felt so naked as she stared at me, and not just my face. Her eyes traced a path down to my breasts and to my pussy all the way to my toes before making a return journey. "Just one problem," she said. "I really, really enjoyed this." "Oh, dear," I whispered and once again realized, I knew nothing. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 05 The first four chapters can be found in the 'Lesbian Sex' category. Reading them first will certainly help explain a lot. Thanks go out to my friend C. who suggested the central idea for this chapter. I decided I needed to come clean. It was all just too much what I was carrying inside, hiding from my husband and now Caroline, my lover. The complication that was Charlotte had me experiencing sleepless nights and just waiting for the shoe to drop. I felt like I was going to have a break down. So, I started with Caroline. I related to her what had happened with Charlotte – the whole episode. Her reaction really didn't surprise me. She was a bit upset that we had been 'outed' but Charlotte's confrontational insistence that I introduce her to sex with a woman got her attention in a hurry. Caroline wanted all the sordid details and I could tell that she was extremely turned on by it all. I half expected her to suggest a threesome a.s.a.p. Caroline got a lot more serious when I told her I wanted to tell my husband. "Emily, that would be a terrible mistake. You have no idea how he'll react. For all you know, he might explode, demand a divorce, try to get custody of your daughter. This is a huge deal and you need to reconsider. Not to mention that I don't want my husband to know. So please think twice." She looked on the verge of tears which shocked me because Caroline was always so in control and self-possessed. "I'll think about it," I answered. "But I'm hoping I can come up with a way to tell him that would be safe, maybe imply rather than admit to anything. I don't know . . ." She looked at me and then seemed to go deep into thought. She snapped out of it and said, "Maybe you need to involve Charlotte in this. Perhaps the three of us could find a way to soothe your conscience." So, the next day found the three of us sitting at my kitchen table. Charlotte was a bit uncomfortable at first to learn that I had told Caroline about our encounter but Caroline's easy manner soon had her calmed down. We then told her about my angst over the situation and Charlotte agreed with Caroline that disclosure had the potential for disaster for all three of us. We were a sorry group sitting there without any easy solution in mind. It was Charlotte who came up with an idea. "How about we have a get together – the three couples. Instead of you breaking it to Richard alone, Em, maybe there's a way to bring it up in a giggly, light-hearted way. See how the guys would react to it without saying that we'd done anything. Like, we could refer back to Peter Willis's comment about a lesbian President and see if we can get them to admit that they think women with women is a hot thing or something." Caroline smiled and interjected, "Yeah, Peter and his comment. That's what blew our cover in the first place. But you may be on to something, Charlotte. At least we'll get an inkling of where Richard's head is at and David and Will, too. We could even have a signal where if any of us thinks it's not working, we drop it." "Yeah, abort! Abort! Code Red!" I said with a laugh. "We'll have an elaborate series of hand signals." "Actually," Caroline answered, "I'm serious. We'll be able to tell if somebody's sending out negative signs and again I'll remind you just how potentially serious this is. So no joke." We brainstormed for a moment and decided to go with Caroline's rather out-there suggestion of 'Costa Rica' as our Abort Word. "Okay. How's this Saturday night for everybody? My house will be fine," offered Charlotte. We both agreed and our conversation over coffee took on a much more relaxed air. * * * Charlotte welcomed us on Saturday night at 7:00 and we repaired to their wonderfully comfortable family room. The six of us sat chatting about any number of subjects over drinks and snacks. We women had decided to take it easy drinks-wise as we wanted to be in control of both the situation and our wits. We were quite happy to see all three of our husbands had no desire to take it easy. They were all putting away Scotch with regularity. My husband Richard and Charlotte's David had known each other for years as Charlotte and I had been bridesmaids in our weddings. The two guys occasionally played golf together and had a solid, although not best of friends, relationship. Caroline's husband Will fit easily in the group conversation. He was very outgoing and charming and I sensed that both of the other two men in the room were very happy to be in his company. After a while, we decided to play a card game that Will suggested. He and his fraternity brothers had made it up and it was easy to learn and great fun. The women were pitted against the men and there was loads of bluffing and crazy twists. We were all roaring with laughter as the two teams threw insults at each other, insisting that they had the upper hand. Fueled by all the Scotch, the men gave as good as they got. I was happy that they were 'happy' because it played into my hoped-for 'reveal'. The girls against the boys situation offered a good opportunity for us to bring up the subject of the evening. At that point, Caroline took the lead. As David shuffled the deck, Caroline mentioned a movie that she had recently rented. It starred the beautiful Penelope Cruz and Caroline made it clear what she thought of her. "I find her incredibly exciting. She just radiates sensuality, you know?" "Oh yes," replied Charlotte. "She really is gorgeous. I love her lips, her eyes . . ." All of this was true, but it was all planned in advance. None of the guys pitched in with their thoughts so I took the floor. "Mmm . . . and a body to kill for. Can you imagine what she must be like in bed? So Latin, and smoky, and . . ." "Geez, listen to the three of you," interjected Richard, finally taking the bait. "It sounds like you all want to make love to this woman." Caroline smiled and purred, "I can think of worse things." She upped the ante. "Tell me, Richard, haven't you ever found a man sexually exciting? I mean, come on . . . George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Paul Newman, Cary Grant. You don't find them arousing in the least?" "I admire them as actors. And, sure, they're attractive but, I've never looked at them, or any male actor I can think of and thought, 'Gee, how I'd love to lock lips with him'." Will and David nodded and chuckled in amused agreement while we three women shook our heads negatively. "Well, that's sad," said Charlotte. "I guess none of you are very secure in your masculinity." Her husband answered as he dealt. "It's not that, Charlotte. It's just different for men. I can understand women finding another woman's look appealing and provocative to the point where she might consider . . . you know, what a sexual encounter might feel like. But men . . ." He paused and gathered his thoughts. "Those of us who aren't gay, I think we look on men being with men as reserved for . . . the less masculine of our gender." David was really trying to voice his feelings without a bit of irony or jest. "So, all gay men are . . . forgive me . . . fruits, in your opinion?" Caroline asked. "Don't you follow the same stereotypes with women? You know, flannel shirts and Doc Martens and builds like linebackers?" "This brings us back to Peter's crack at my party. When men think of lesbians in their fantasies, none of them look like that. They all look like Victoria's Secret models," I said. Everyone laughed but no one denied it. Since the cards for the next hand had been dealt, we suspended the conversation and concentrated on trying to trounce the opposition. We girls won another hand (the liquor-addled brains of the men seemed to be taking a toll on their acumen) and Charlotte started shuffling. David went right back to where we had left off. "Okay, we'll admit it. Lesbians turn us on. But, I'm curious. Does the idea of two guys making out get your juices flowing? Would you enjoy watching two male superstar actors kissing or . . . the other stuff?" David was adorable. He couldn't bring himself to refer to acts that he thought icky by name. Icky, that is, when a man was doing it to a man. "I think it would be hot," answered Caroline. "Yes, I'd love to watch the kissing and the other stuff. "Me, too," added Charlotte. The eyes of the group were all upon me so I nodded my agreement and said, "Oh, yes. Big, handsome, masculine men making out. That would be quite the turn on." Richard looked at me as if I had just denounced mom, baseball, and apple pie. "Really? I've never heard this before. You'd get a kick out of watching a couple of guys go at it?" "A couple . . . or three. Three gorgeous men. Oh, yes." Caroline's ears perked up. "Hey, now there's an idea. We've been playing this silly game without any stakes on the table. I propose a wager. If you win, we girls will put on a show of lesbian erotica for you. You can just sit back and enjoy while we get all cozy with each other." "I'm afraid to ask," said Will. "But what if you win?" Caroline took her time for dramatic effect. Her mouth betrayed a hint of a smile and she finally suggested, "Then, we would watch you guys kiss each other and . . . the other stuff. Namely, we would watch you give each other oral sex." "In your dreams!" roared Richard. "Sweetie, that just ain't gonna happen!" His answer was echoed by his teammates. "You know, darling," I said, "I really find your disgust interesting. I don't think I'm betraying any great secret when I state that I know you absolutely love being on the receiving end of fellatio. But the thought of a man doing it to you, for you, really bothers you. You really think you could tell the difference?" "Yes, of course I could. A woman's mouth is a woman's mouth. It would be an entirely different feeling." Richard nodded for emphasis and looked to his fellows for support. Their response seemed just a wee bit tepid. "I think Richard's probably right," stated David while Will just looked on silently. "Hmmm . . . forget my original wager," said Caroline. "I think we have a new challenge on the floor. Richard, exactly how convinced are you in what you just said?" "Totally. But I don't think I like where you're going here." "Well, if you're so sure, you shouldn't be at all hesitant because I've got an offer you really shouldn't want to refuse. Here it is. I propose a blindfolded taste test." Caroline was creating this on the fly because neither Charlotte nor I had discussed this with her or anticipated it at all. "Richard, we blindfold you. Everyone here will take turns on your wonderful manhood and you will have to identify who gave you the greatest pleasure. Of course, that will be a woman, according to what you say you can do. Now, whether you're right or wrong, you will then return the favor to the person you've chosen. So, if it is a woman, you will have the opportunity to taste one of these three beautiful women's . . . ahem . . . pussies. But if it is a man, you will have to administer oral sex on him until he is fully satisfied." There was an instant of silence before the room exploded with noise. David was exclaiming that under no circumstances would he take part. Charlotte and I were laughing and calling Caroline crazy. But again, Will seemed less involved in the protests. "Will," David finally said, "Your wife's insane, really. Is she always like this?" He was laughing as he said it but he really did seem shocked by Caroline's suggestion. "My wife never ceases to amaze me, David, but this one really does take the cake." He then turned to Richard, smiled, and shocked all of us with, "So, what do you say, big guy? Care to put my mouth where your money is?" I could only speak for myself, but I know I was flabbergasted. Will appeared to be willing to take part in this contest and seemed more than happy to watch the settling of the bet. My shock only increased when my husband looked at him and replied, "I know I could do it. I know I could tell. Yeah, I'm in if everybody else is." "Sorry, love," I interjected. "Not me. I'll be the referee. We'll need someone to keep track of the contestants and their order." Caroline nodded. "You're right, Emily. You can keep track of the proceedings and you can physically support the . . . um . . . equipment. It would be a giveaway if we all put our hands on it. What about it, Charlotte, David? Are you in? Remember, Richard'll be blindfolded and won't know who's who." Little Charlotte looked at her husband and very quietly mouthed the words, "It could be fun." David looked at his wife and then the whole group. "I've never. I mean, I've never even thought of this. God, we really must be plastered!" He laughed and finally made up his mind. "What the hell. In." And so, shockingly, the contest was on. Caroline acted as organizer as we prepared for the challenge explaining exactly what would happen as though she had been anticipating this her whole life. We all headed to David and Charlotte's bedroom except for Richard who decided he wanted to freshen up in the bathroom. A nice clean penis for the contestants to suck on. When he came into the bedroom, Richard had removed all his clothing, right down to his socks, and was wearing a terrycloth robe that David had provided. I blindfolded my husband using a small towel and two of David's neckties. When I was finished, there was no way that Richard could possibly see. Caroline then handed out four playing cards – an ace, a two, a three, and a four to determine the order of participation. We were just about ready to go. "All right, Richard," announced the self-appointed Commissioner. "This is the last time you'll be hearing from me. After this the only voice you'll hear will be Emily's. Emily will announce the number of the contestant and they will begin to give you oral pleasuring. Emily will support your cock (Caroline's choice of word. I find it really vulgar but that's just me.) while the sucking takes place. She will also announce when it's time for a new player. I think 30 seconds a round sounds good. We'll keep going as long as Emily decides or until nature takes its course. Okay, Richard?" Richard, sitting upright with his legs hanging off the side of the bed, nodded and said, "Bring it on. I'm ready." I reached over and untied the terry belt that surrounded the robe and moved the robe off Richard's shoulders. His body came into view and, I can proudly say, it was a beautiful sight. Richard is tall and lean and has always maintained an active life featuring lots of physical exercise. There were no rolls of fat around his middle and his skin was clear and naturally tanned. His penis when first revealed was quite small but I knew it would become really impressive in no time. I figured he must've used ice cold water on it as a last stage of preparation in the bathroom. Shrinkage, you know? I put two pillows on the bed and gently guided his head down to them. His legs were bent at the knee and those knees were right at the edge of the mattress meaning his feet were almost reaching the floor. I stood up and took hold of his knees and spread them, wide enough that someone could take position between Richard's legs. "All right, Contestant Number One," I stated with a quivering voice, "please come forward." I scanned the room and saw four faces that gave off a variety of emotions. Excitement, trepidation, bemusement – this was crazy. We all knew it but we had all signed on. Funny, this had started as a plan to allow me to reveal the secret encounters that I had had with the two women in the room but had somehow morphed into orgy-like behavior that none of us (at least to my knowledge) had ever engaged in. Now, the moment was at hand and no one appeared ready to blow any whistle – except for Richard's. The first contestant slowly moved to the foot of the bed. I put my hand at the base of Richard's penis and the top of it, in its very much flaccid state, barely showed above my fingers. The contestant moved in and gave a soft kiss to its tip and gently surrounded it with wide-open mouth that tightened and fitted itself to the still small target. A few sucking motions and Richard's penis began its inevitable extension. By the time the first contestant had finished the 30 second segment, Richard had grown to a respectable length. He also was stirring beside me, showing that he was enjoying the tactile nature of what he was experiencing. I caressed him, nuzzling his neck with butterfly kisses. At my direction, Contestant Two came forward. I now had a base that was easy to grasp. The second player took no time, diving right in and going down to where my fingers supported Richard. My husband was fighting it, I could tell, but his hips showed a surrender to what was happening. He was meeting the slurping pulls on his penis with an involuntary rhythmic response. By the time contestant two finished, there had been a dramatic increase in the size of his member. This was the penis I loved and knew so well. Upright, long, moderately thick, and red with increased blood flow. Watching Caroline and Charlotte, I knew they had to be impressed. This was all having quite an effect on me as well. I felt my nipples rubbing against the front of my blouse right through my bra. I needed some relief so I unbuttoned two buttons halfway down the front and inserted my free hand. I heard a moan escape my lips as I moved my hand inside the cup of the bra. Finding the nipple, I tweaked it, almost sobbing at the pain/ecstasy combination it yielded. I continued playing with myself, all the while watching the next contestant work on my husband's throbbing penis. Contestant Three took a gentle and erotic approach, licking along the underside and applying lips just above the helmet before sliding down slowly and loosely before tightening the lip grip for the return upward motion. Contestant Four, though, upped the attack with powerful, tight sucking motions that had Richard's breaths coming in short, staccato bursts. He was getting close, I knew it. So was I. I took a moment to force my available hand down through the waistband of my slacks, into my panties and on down through my damp pubic hair. For just a moment, I buried my middle finger in my sopping slit. Oh dear God, I thought, have I ever been this worked up? Those just watching and waiting their turns were mesmerized by what they were witnessing. I saw Charlotte put her arm around Caroline at one point and whisper something in her ear. Caroline responded by taking Charlotte's chin in her hand and kissing her full on the mouth. David saw this happen and didn't seem bothered by it. In fact, he looked like a very contented man with a very large bulge under his khakis. For my part, I held my grip on Richard's penis, also cupping his balls at times while occasionally bending down to kiss his cheek and stroke his hair while encouraging him to, "Just enjoy yourself, darling." The second round went quickly as it was obvious things were coming . . . um . . . to a head. Number One: gentle and artistic. Number Two: powerful, faster. Number Three: smooth but insistent, and bringing Richard to the very edge. I could tell he was on the verge of coming but he left no doubt by announcing it. "Oh, God, I'm really close," he panted. Number Four: just time to move in, surround Richard's penis for one last downward thrust before Richard again cried out, "Oh, Jesus, now! Now!" Contestant Four made the decision to release lips from penis just in time and Richard's cum flew in a long arc up over his trunk, just about reaching his nipples. I held on for a moment but then released him and watched with everyone else as what seemed like a stunning amount of release took place. My dear husband's chest was coated with his cum and finally he took a deep breath and released a long, contented, "Whewwwwwww." I leaned down and kissed Richard tenderly and whispered, "You are so handsome. That was amazing, love." With that, I removed the blindfold. Richard's eyes adjusted to the light as the four players all joined in a round of applause. Charlotte came forward with some dampened towels which she handed to me and Richard for some much-needed clean up. The time for Richard's decision was at hand. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 05 "Well, Richard, allow me to say . . . you were fabulous," exclaimed Caroline, her voice refreshingly free of sarcasm. "And, it must be said, you seemed to enjoy every contestant's ministering equally. Is that fair?" Richard smiled and responded. "Okay, Caroline. I must admit, with a blindfold in place . . . yeah, it all felt good. Make that great. But, I stand by my original statement. I know who the women were. I'm sure of it." "Okay, drum roll. Richard, please reveal the winner of Sucker Bowl I, he or she who is about to receive your repayment in kind. Who did ya best?" Caroline absolutely was loving this. "Well," answered Richard. "First let me make it clear that if Emily had participated, it would've been no contest. But among these outstanding participants – one and all – I am going with . . . Contestant Number Three. So, either Caroline or Charlotte, please come forward, remove your pants, and prepare to be exported to a state of heavenly bliss." Each of our four friends stood with hands behind their backs, apparently hiding the playing cards that would reveal their contestant numbers. No one gave away the result. So, Caroline again took the stage. "Well, let's see. To heighten the drama, let's start by seeing who Number One was." David brought his right hand forward showing the ace of clubs. Richard smiled broadly, happy to see that he now had a two in three chance of being correct. Caroline nodded and continued. "Yes, Number One was David. Now, let's see who Number Two was." A long pause for dramatic effect and then, Will revealed the two of hearts. Looking like the proverbial canary-swallowing cat, Richard positively glowed. He was in the clear and it would be female parts with which his tongue and lips would make contact. "Okay, now for the magic moment. Let's have Three and Four show their cards." Caroline and Charlotte's hands remained behind their backs as Richard strained forward to see who the 'winner' would be. His focus entirely on the women, Richard barely noticed as both Will and David reached into their trouser pockets. Will removed the four of diamonds and David the three of clubs. As they held them up, Richard finally noticed and his look was first one of confusion followed by the dawn of realization and a consider dose of pique. "Are you serious? Are you telling me this was a fix? Caroline, this had to be your idea and I've got to say, I'm not too amused." Indeed, Richard was looking none too happy and totally unlike someone ready to 'pay off' his end of the bargain. "If you expect me to . . . well, it's not going to happen." "Sweetie," I said, "now don't blame Caroline . . . entirely. It was her idea but we were all in on it. And it did prove a point, didn't it? You obviously loved the feeling, even though you had no idea it was just the two guys doing it." "When did you come up with this idea?" asked Richard. Caroline answered, "I proposed it while you were in the bathroom. At first, David and Will balked but they agreed to go along to see if I was right. And Charlotte was nice enough to give her support. Now please don't be angry, Richard. It was all in fun. And, of course, you needn't follow up on the bet because it was indeed rigged." Richard took it all in and responded in a considered manner. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, you got me. You're right, Emily, I did enjoy the sensation and Caroline, point proved. But it seems to me that any referee would reward me with a penalty of some sort, based on the heinous injustice that was done." The twinkle in his eye gave him away. I knew Richard was having fun in the spirit of the occasion. "A penalty, Richard?" asked Caroline. "Why, sir, whatever do you mean?" "There are two ladies in this room who chose to sit on the sidelines and not take part as I had been led to believe they would. It seems only fair that they now both open themselves up to participate." Smiling at his choice of words, Richard looked to me for acceptance. "Emily, it's my turn to sample the goods, if you're okay with it." "How can I say no, darling?" I replied. "Yes, Caroline, I agree with Richard. It is his turn." "Of course," answered Caroline. "As soon as you pay off the winner. David deserves to be rewarded." "That's if he wants to be rewarded. David, it's up to you, old buddy." David looked more than a little uncomfortable. He sighed and said, "Look, I'm still drunk enough to be enjoying myself here. I can't imagine how I'll feel in the morning or if I'll ever be able to look at any of you in the future but here we are. What I did to you tonight, Richard, I'd never in a million years have thought of as possible. But, here's the shocker. It wasn't unpleasant. As a matter of fact . . . hell, I'll say it . . . I enjoyed it. It was a tremendous feeling of power and control and I think you maybe should experience it once as well." Richard had listened intently and now he nodded. "You know, here I sit in this terry cloth robe while all of you are fully dressed. I'm getting damned sick of being your party toy. So if I'm going to start with David and proceed on to Charlotte and Caroline, I suggest you all get a bit more comfortable." Again, a barrier had been broken and our night in Bizarro World was ready to move to another level. David moved toward the door and stated, "I'm going to follow Richard's lead and go get ready." Just as he reached the door, he noticed that Caroline and Charlotte had stood up and were starting to disrobe. "Um, maybe I'll wait a second," David added, obviously not wanting to miss a little erotic disrobing on the part of his wife and her very statuesque friend. Caroline slowly unbuttoned the lovely embroidered white blouse she had on, opening it to reveal a lace-trimmed bra that had obviously crossed the Atlantic from some high-end French boutique. It elevated her gorgeous breasts and barely covered the nipples that topped them. Next to her, Charlotte pulled her light blue short-sleeved sweater over her head. Her bra was much simpler and looked a lot like a casual bikini top. Next to the showgirl-like Caroline, Charlotte looked more like a high school cheerleader and that was no knock. She was adorable. Both women, fully aware that they had the attention of a rapt male audience, took their time as they unbuttoned and unzipped the casual slacks they were wearing. Not surprisingly, Caroline's panties matched the bra with lacey panels surrounding a central patch of silk that concealed her most private parts. They were cut just below her navel and were really stunning. Charlotte's panties were white boy cut and looked wonderful next to her perennially tanned skin. Standing next to each other, my two friends presented a contrast in appearance while showing just how gorgeous these two looks could be. "I think your job just got easier, Richard," announced Will. "Check out the bulge in David's trousers." David's khakis could not hide it, he had obviously been aroused by the side by side striptease. "Yeah, I'll be going now," said David, failing to hide an embarrassed smile. "So, Will," I asked, "what are you and I supposed to do while this is going on? Do play by play, or work like corner men in a boxing match with spray bottles at the ready? I'm not a big fan of spectator sports." Will looked at his wife and Richard before answering. "Well, Emily, we may start as watchers but I can't imagine that'll continue too long. You two have any problems with the behavior of the crowd?" Richard and Caroline could hardly complain considering what had already transpired and what was about to occur so they both agreed to allow us to let happen what would happen. Caroline and Charlotte were now sitting on the bed awaiting David's return. Caroline said, "We won't be needing these," and reached around to Charlotte's back, unclasping her bra and removing it. Charlotte returned the favor and Caroline's boobs spilled out prompting Charlotte to sigh and state that, "I'm looking pretty sorry right about now." Caroline frowned her disagreement. "Nonsense, your breasts are beautiful. Just a perfect size." As if to prove her admiration, she reached over and cupped one in her hand while lightly massaging the nipple with her thumb. It was an extremely erotic tableau that Richard, Will and I took in. It had only just begun when David strode in wearing nothing but a pair of blue Oxford boxers. Boxers which barely contained a penis that was itching to escape its confinement. I knew my husband was uncomfortable with hesitation. He was a very decisive man, a trait which served him well in the business world. In this decidedly social situation, he again showed that he wasn't about to waste any time. He crossed the room to David and said, "Okay, sport, how's it going to be? You want to stand up or lie down?" David answered with actions, inserting his fingers inside the waistband of the boxers and lowering them to the floor. His penis, well on its way to full erection, sprang out. The four of us who weren't participating moved into positions where we could watch as Richard knelt on the carpet in front of David. Richard reached up and took hold of David's penis and moved closer. He hesitated for a brief instant, looking the impressive member in the eye, so to speak, and then opened his mouth wide and gingerly surrounded the helmet. He stayed there briefly, not moving, and then pulled on David's cock (Okay, I'll use the word.) making an audible suction sound. He seemed to be convincing himself that he could do this as he took a breath and continued. This time, his mouth went farther down the shaft and worked in concert with his hand that was doing slight twists at the base. I smiled, realizing that my husband was mimicking techniques that I used on him and that he greatly enjoyed. David stood, with feet spread fairly wide, his eyes closed and his faced somewhat flushed. As Richard continued to move his lips up and down David's cock, I snuck a look at everyone else. Will was on the bed next to Caroline and had his arm around her, cupping her breast as the two of them watched intently. Beside them, Charlotte's eyes were hooded as she appeared almost overcome by lust. She then stood and walked over to the two men who were the center of attraction. She knelt beside Richard and, without a word, she reached her hand under Richard's mouth and David's cock, taking hold of David's balls and softly massaging them in the same rhythm that Richard was using. The effect on David was instantaneous. He threw back his head and moaned in pleasure. "Oh, yes, baby, that feels so good," he purred. "Please don't stop." Charlotte needed no such encouragement. She not only continued to rub, but added her tongue to the process. Richard backed off slightly giving Charlotte room to partake in the attention to her husband's cock. The two of them were now sharing space on it, almost kissing each other as they sucked in unison. It really was the most shockingly erotic thing I'd ever witnessed, especially considering this was no porn film. This was my husband and my best friend giving incredible oral sex to her husband. I felt on the verge of an orgasm just from what I was watching not having even touched myself. It was that hot. Richard then moved away. He obviously felt he had done his duty and wanted Charlotte to finish the job, which she did in precious little time. David's legs half-buckled as he came, holding onto the back of Charlotte's head as she swallowed all of what seemed to be a large amount of David's semen. She finished, stood as she took a noticeable swallow and then kissed her delighted husband on the lips. Charlotte then turned and wiggled her panties down her hips, finishing up quite naked before us. She smiled and said, "I want to be eaten." The suddenly decisive Charlotte moved to the bed and performed the same action with Caroline's panties, leaving her naked as well. The two of them sat side by side on the bed and used matching grins to indicate to Richard that it was his, and their, turn. The women did a right angle turn and each put a pillow under their head. They were holding hands, I noticed, and looked like two sacrificial virgins awaiting their fates. Richard gave a quick glance toward me, saw my nod of approval, and moved onto the bottom of the bed between the two women. He traced a path with his fingers up their inside legs as he approached his targets and then straddled them. They had opened their legs and had bent their outer ones slightly, providing enough upturn that their glistening vaginal openings were exposed and ready to be licked. David stood to one side of the bed while Will and I were positioned on the other. He was behind me, looking over my shoulder, and there was no room whatsoever between us, making it terribly obvious that his erection was poking against my rear. His hand rested on my shoulder and was softly rubbing it. As if what I was watching wasn't enough, the effect he was having on me just heightened the sexual tension coursing through me. Richard moved in. He kissed first Caroline's inner thigh, then Charlotte's. He stayed with Charlotte and used his hand to gently open her lips before using his tongue on her for the first time. Charlotte sighed at the contact and looked extremely comfortable as Richard ran his tongue over her slit several times. He then moved to Caroline and repeated the movements. The scent of musky sex hung in the room as my husband spent his time going back and forth between the two rapturous women. Again, I was drawn to their intertwined hands, pressing in a cadence that corresponded to Richard's efforts. Another hand was busy, that of Will who had moved from my shoulder down over my right breast which he kneaded with increasing urgency as we watched. I turned my head enough that he could kiss me and realized that this was the first kiss of passion I had shared with another man since my marriage. If I felt guilt, it passed in a millisecond as I reflected on what was going on all around me. I turned fully to face Will and the kiss got deeper and more powerful, his hands rubbing fervently along my back at the same time. In moments, we went from fully clothed to standing in our underwear and I truly don't remember how that happened. I do know that it was I who removed Will's tee shirt and briefs as he was practically ripping my bra and panties from my body. We stood naked, kissing and stroking each other, now oblivious to what was going on mere feet from us. Moans of pleasure drew our attention back though as both Charlotte and Caroline obviously were deeply enjoying Richard's efforts. David had decided he wanted to do more than watch so he was sucking noisily on his wife's breast at one moment and kissing her at another. My own breasts were now being suckled by Will who went back and forth between them with an urgent and powerful pull. I loved it but wanted him lower as my need for release was really profound. I therefore put pressure on the top of his head and he got the message, soon covering my pussy was long, wet slurps that quickly focused on my swollen clit. I was the first to explode, coming with cries of release that surely got the attention of everyone else. I didn't care, I just gloried in the feeling. Apparently, my verbal performance spurred on Caroline because she soon followed with her own orgasmic cries. I could see that Richard's fingers were now part of his attack and knew them to be highly capable of taking a woman over the edge. Immediately upon finishing, Caroline sat up and moved to Charlotte's mouth with her own. Dear Charlotte now had three people working her: Caroline's mouth covering her lips, David's tongue swirling around her nipple, and Richard's fingers buried deep in her pussy. It was more than she could resist and she came in an exhalation of oaths. "Oh, God, oh God, oh God!" she screamed and waves of passion swept over her. Finally, there was silence. Except, that is, for some rather ragged breathing on the part of all three women present. Fortunately, Charlotte and David had invested in a king-size bed which allowed Will and me to join the four already on it. We all sat with similar smiles on our faces of the sort one sees on the face of a child who just told a whopper and got away with it. It was left to Richard to break the silence. He started with a chuckle and then said, "Well. What the hell was that?" "That, my dear," I replied, "was the six of us going waaaaaay outside the box." "And, wasn't it great?" posed Charlotte. Shaking his head slightly, Richard answered, "I can't deny it. It was unbelievable. But, is everybody okay with this? And like David said earlier, how're we going to be tomorrow? Oh, and one more thing. I can't help wondering if this was just a little bit . . . premeditated. Did you girls come here tonight with this in mind?" "Us? Richard, come on. It just happened. And as far as tomorrow is concerned, we'll just have to wake up tomorrow and find out," answered Caroline. "Penelope Cruz," intoned David. We all looked to him for more. He continued, "When you brought up Penelope Cruz, that got things started. I think Richard's on to something." After a beat, I admitted, "Well, yes, bringing her up did have a purpose." "Costa Rica. I forgot to tell you. Madelyn and Greg are going to Costa Rica." It was Charlotte who had blurted it out and the guys looked at her as though she had just flown in from Mars. Caroline and I burst out laughing and eventually were able to convince Charlotte that if ever a point of no return had been passed, this was such a moment. So, we shared. Caroline and I told, in greatly abbreviated form, the story I related in my earlier chapters and Charlotte joined in to explain her involvement. As the husbands listened, I reflected on the fact that we were all sitting there quite comfortably in varying states of undress. At one point, I worried that Charlotte's Costa Rican moment might have been a good idea after all when David learned of Charlotte's behavior. But, by the end, Will seemed to sum up the husbands' points of view when he said, "I'm glad you told us. I love my wife and it's obvious to me that I'm not the only one here who feels that way. Something happened to the three of you that caught you off guard, much like what happened here tonight. Hey, I had a blast. Everybody had a blast. Life goes on." Richard gave me a look that relaxed me enormously. It told of his acceptance of everything he had heard and experienced. The way David was hugging Charlotte left no doubt about his feelings. "Two things, if I may," I said. "Will, you're the one person here who didn't . . . you know. That hardly seems fair." "Not to worry, Emily," he responded. "I enjoyed this more than you can possibly imagine." Caroline smiled an elfin smile and added, "He's going to do just fine, Em. As soon as we get home, I'll take good care of my sweetie. Now what was your second point?" I hesitated but decided to forge on. "For some reason, Will, I'm guessing this wasn't your first time being intimate with a man. Am I prying too deeply to ask if I'm right?" Will glanced at Caroline before answering. "I don't know what gave it away, Emily, but you're right. Caroline is aware of the fact that in college I . . . tested the waters, so to speak, with a good friend. Mutual curiosity more than anything, really. But actually, a nice memory that meeting Caroline brought a sudden and sharp end to. Now . . . how about some decaf? I think it's time." And with that, we rose, found our scattered clothing, and walked to the kitchen . Life goes on. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 06 Once again, you'd be well advised to read the earlier parts of this story, particularly Chapter 5 which is referred to below. It's been several months since I wrote here but I thought you might like to know what happened after that crazy night when three couples went totally around the bend and experienced that which would have been previously unimaginable. The Monday after 'The Event', I invited Charlotte and Caroline over for coffee. Our husbands were back at work and we were free to discuss the aftermaths. Once we were all seated around my kitchen table, I got the ball rolling. "So. How's everything on the home front? Any divorce papers being filed as we speak?" Charlotte and Caroline both giggled. "Hardly," said Charlotte. "David woke up yesterday morning, shook his head, laughed, and climbed all over me. I don't think I've seen him so fired up since our honeymoon." "Will wanted to talk first," stated Caroline. "He was curious about how we made the decision to broach the topic and then he wanted more details about how you and I had become . . . entangled, Emily. So, I told the story slowly, with details, and let's just say, it had quite the effect on him." She smiled and pretended to fan herself as if overcome with the vapors. I was happy for my two friends because I really had been worried. When Richard woke up on Sunday morning, I had already been lying there with worrisome thoughts coursing through my brain. Richard was fun-loving and adventurous but I couldn't help thinking that he might reconsider his willingness to engage in open, sexual activities with friends – female and male – two of whom he really didn't know at all well. Plus, now that we were alone, would he admit to me that the thought of his wife making love to another woman (make that two other women) was more than he could bear? I was basically freaking out, much as I had been in that New York hotel room when Caroline and I were just embarking on our adventure. I watched Richard stir and as his eyes opened, I looked for signs of how he was feeling. Through hooded eyes, he turned toward me and whispered, "Morning, Baby." I leaned across to his pillow and kissed him as I whispered back, "I love you." Richard slowly began to wake up and I waited for some sort of sign that he even remembered what had occurred a mere eight hours earlier. It took a moment but finally, he pursed his lips, shook his head a bit, and softly exhaled a barely audible whistle. "Jesus. What a night." "Are you okay?" "Yeah," he answered. "I think so." I let him take his time and eventually he continued, "Never in a million years." Another pause and a head shake. "I woke up a few hours ago and laid here thinking about it. I . . . I don't know." He had been avoided eye contact as he spoke, but now he turned and looked me in the eye. "Em. We're not in trouble here, are we?" My heart truly skipped a beat as I focused on the fact that I might have brought pain to this man, the love of my life. "Oh, God, no, Richard. No, no, no . . . I love you more than ever. Please don't be angry at me. This whole thing . . . it just happened and I'll stop, I swear, I'll stop right now." My voice was a bit frantic, I could detect that, but I rambled on, pretty much begging him to forgive me. "Calm down, Love. Really. I'm okay. Actually, I'm a lot better than I expected to be considering . . . everything. Last night, hell, that was just drunken craziness and I can live with it." He smiled. "I don't see myself becoming a danger in the locker room at the golf club, hunting down unsuspecting male prey, but really, that's all over. The more important thing is you and Caroline. And you and Charlotte. I need to come to grips with that." All I could do was stare at him. I'd never in my life felt so guilty to have caused this darling man discomfort. My eyes welled up and I began to blubber my promises that I would never again . . . But he interrupted me. "Emily. No, no really. I've thought about it and I'm okay with it, really. It's weird, but I'm not nearly as bothered by it as I thought I'd be, or maybe as I should be. Trust me, if it was another guy, I'd feel totally different, but, for some reason, this just seems to me to be the absolute definition of pure fun . . . recreational sex. I don't know." He shook his head. "I don't think I care to hear about it, but I'm glad you decided to tell us and . . . if you want to continue, if it really brings you pleasure, just . . . be discreet and make sure nobody finds out about it who shouldn't. Okay?" What a man I married. I continued to tell him I wouldn't and I believed it when I said it but within minutes, I knew that I might not have the strength to deal with this new found addiction. The good news was that Richard had dealt with it and had let me know he still loved me and trusted me to behave. And that, dear readers, is pretty much exactly as I related it to Charlotte and Caroline at my kitchen table. Their reactions matched mine. "Well, that's that, then," stated Caroline. "Fun is one thing, but your marriage takes precedent. There will be no more." Her expression betrayed the sadness she felt. "Yes, of course," responded Charlotte. "There's nothing else to do." Then, after a pause, she continued, "Damn. One lousy time. I mean . . . one spectacular time, for me. Oh, you know what I mean – I feel cheated!" We all laughed and raised our mugs in a toast to a period of our lives that we'd never forget. End of story. Um, no. Not quite. Several months went by and we were good little girls. We continued to socialize, now a threesome - shopping, visiting museums, eating out. But all our behavior was above board, even when temptation thrust itself into our paths. Once, while clothes shopping, we ended up in a large dressing room trying on various items that required stripping to our barest skivvies. The moment came when we all happened to look up at once just in time to see: Charlotte holding a sundress in front of her, perky little breasts exposed and boy-cut panties of a highly diaphanous fabric providing a tempting, teasing view of her pubes; Caroline reaching for a dress on a hook while sporting the most gorgeous bra (her gloriously round breasts shown in splendid profile) and panties combo of smoky gray; and me, 100% buck-naked about to step into a shear ice-blue nightgown. A freeze frame moment that stretched on for perhaps three seconds but felt like an eternity. Caroline sighed and broke the silence with, "We look so pretty." "Touchable, even," was Charlotte's contribution. I just shook my head. Such a waste, I thought. Such beautiful, touchable, kissable flesh. But behave we did and even resumed three-couple socializing. Everything was fun and comfy, with no mention of 'That Night'. It was an unspoken, agreed upon taboo. It turns out, though, that planning was taking place, behind the scenes, unknown to your narrator. * * * I celebrate my birthday each year in mid-March. Because it generally falls in the middle of my daughter's school year, we don't make a big deal of it – no exotic vacation trips or anything – just a quiet celebration of an event that, quite honestly, no longer thrills me as it once did. I mean, really. How many women do you know who revel in the passage of time and the accompanying gravitational pulls? So, a gift or three, a cake with candles, and let's move on. That's what I was thinking. Charlotte had called a few nights earlier and had asked if she could drop over mid-morning and take me someplace special for lunch. I, of course, agreed and looked forward to a nice lunch out, destination unspecified. She rolled up around 10:30 which had me wondering just how far we'd be going for lunch. Our children would be home from school by 3:15, I reminded her, but she insisted that I wasn't to worry. "Just relax, listen to the pretty music, close your eyes if you'd like, and leave the driving to me." Okay, I thought, can do. After about a half hour of driving, I had a pretty good idea of where we were heading. Sure enough, we pulled off a lovely fir tree-lined road and headed up a long driveway that led to a country inn of considerable renown in our area. It consisted of several natural stone buildings that included the inn itself, a restaurant, smaller guesthouses, a spa, and an indoor swimming pool. Although it looked like it had been part of the countryside for centuries, in fact it was fairly new and had built a reputation for excellence throughout our part of the country and beyond. "A bit early for lunch, no?" I asked. "Uh huh," Charlotte replied. This response coincided with her driving right past the restaurant. She parked in a space beside the spa, a lot entirely devoid of other cars. "Too early for lunch." Charlotte jumped out of the car and I followed. We walked up to the impressive front door and entered an absolutely deserted lobby. There was no sign of life anywhere to be seen. My quizzical expression led Charlotte to smile and state, "Closed on Mondays." "Um . . . Charlotte, it's Monday." "I know. But it's open for us." "How?" "Well, it helps when your husband runs a bank and handles most of the financing for a project like this," she explained. "Provides one with certain perks, when one requests them." We were walking down a hall that was barely lit and reached a door that Charlotte pushed open. It was a gloriously tasteful room, done in soft, soothing colors (mauves, and taupes, and buffs, oh my!). Large free-flowing abstract paintings covered three of the walls while the fourth was dominated by a modern gas fire pit that was aglow on this chilly late winter's day (Hmm, I thought, someone had readied this room.). Barely audible music was being piped in and, no surprise, it was ethereal in nature. This was a haven – a place to chill and, pretty obviously, a place to be massaged. The long, tan-leather covered table that stood squarely in the room's center kind of gave that away. "Happy birthday to me?" I asked. "That's right, sweetie," answered a smiling Charlotte. "Today is all about you. Now, go right through that door and you will find the most wonderful of showers. Enjoy it . . . fully. Towels and a plush robe await. In fifteen minutes time, your masseuse will be here, ready to take you to relaxation-ville." "Someone you know?" I inquired. "Someone who's kneaded you personally?" "Trust me, you will not be disappointed." With that, Charlotte went to the door and vanished. I actually liked the sound of it. And I trusted Charlotte completely. Certainly, she wouldn't put me in an uncomfortable situation. So, I headed to the shower and loved what I found. It was huge with jet sprays in abundance from all levels of the sides and the top. Utterly elegant and welcoming in a glorious tufa-like stone. I removed my winter coat and rapidly stripped off my dress and underwear. Once I got the shower fired up and operative, I honestly thought it would require a team of Marines to drag me out kicking and screaming. It was that good. I was assaulted with jets of water that I was able to vary in intensity and it was all I could do to keep from moaning my pleasure. Trusting that I was indeed alone, I took special interest in the cleanliness of my breasts and that soft, slippery area where my legs met. Recalling Charlotte's fifteen minute comment led me finally, reluctantly, to turn off the shower and dry myself with a big, ultra-fluffy towel. Donning the soft, pure white robe and stepping into matching slippers, I took a deep breath and returned to the massage room, taking a seat in a gorgeous cushioned chair beside the fire pit. Bring it on, I thought. I sat for all of two minutes before I heard a faint knock on the door. Entering was not one masseuse, but two, clad in matching tight gray uniforms. And rather than strangers, I was looking at dear Charlotte and equally dear Caroline, apparently masseuses-for-a-day. "Hello, Madame," intoned Caroline. "It is our pleasure to serve you on your special day." She looked like everyman's ideal of the perfect French maid: tall, statuesque – the zipper down the front of her uniform straining to contain that which lay behind it – and made up with just enough cosmetics to look the slightest bit tartish. Beside her, little Charlotte rather looked like her apprentice or intern, so much smaller was she. But not at all unappealing. Charlotte could've been mistaken for a high school cheerleader and likely would continue to be into her 50's. The fact that her uniform barely reached her knees, showing off her perfect legs (that I had envied since our college years), made the package utterly adorable. So here they stood in front of me, apparently ready to treat me to a special birthday rubdown. My ear to ear smile let them know how happy I was with the idea. "Well, look at you two. And here I was hoping for a Greek God in a Speedo. Silly me." "Dear girl," said Caroline, "Spiros Rubalopolous has nothing on us. Now, get your ass up on that bench. I'm raring to go." I stood and grabbed the lapels of the robe. "What should I do with this?" I asked coyly. Charlotte approached me and began to untie the belt. "Allow me," she said in what was barely a whisper and, I had to admit, sounded extremely erotic. She came around behind me and slowly lowered the robe from my shoulders. I was quite naked but the room was comfortably warm. Caroline stood in front of me and took time to check me out from head to toe, as if she hadn't seen my body before. Her joking manner of a few seconds ago was gone, replaced by a buzz of lustful electricity. She extended her hand, which I took, and she led me to the platform. I lay down on my stomach with my head resting comfortably in a donut-like opening at the head of it. Neither of my friends bothered to cover my bottom with the traditional towel. I felt exposed and very sexy. Both Charlotte and Caroline hunched down on either sides of my head. Caroline whispered, "Happy birthday, Emily. Just relax and enjoy it." Charlotte actually kissed me lightly on my ear and added, "There's nobody here but us, Em. We're going to do our best for you." The room got darker as one of them rotated a dimmer switch. I detected a smell of incense as well and the music, eastern in nature, fit perfectly. Without warning, a trickle of warm liquid softly struck my spine, starting at the top and going lower, all the way to the top of my ass cheeks. And then it began. Four hands slowly rubbing said liquid into my skin. Two hands on my shoulders and pushing downwards, two hands cupping my bottom and rotating into it. I couldn't see who was who but it was discernable that the two women were mimicking each other's movements and acting in tandem on the upper and lower segments of my back. I could also tell that it felt damn good. Warm and smooth and heavenly. The sounds coming from my mouth, quite involuntarily, gave away my deep pleasure. Was that me or a mewing kitten, I wondered? They took their time and eventually got all the way down to my toes, after paying particular attention to my calves. I was an oily, slippery mess and was glad to have them on both sides of the table figuring they would likely be able to keep me from sliding onto the floor. Now they went their separate ways and I could see Charlotte in front of me as she kneaded my shoulders, digging in with enough force to bring on what I would describe as delightful agony. From below, Caroline stayed busy. She was working her way northward from my ankles and as she reached my mid-thighs, her hands applied barely enough pressure to move my legs apart just a tiny bit. I heard my heartbeat for the first time and that beat intensified as she rubbed higher and higher, all the while separating. I heard her as she climbed onto the table between my open appendages and when her hands arrived at the very top of my legs, I squealed a bit. That didn't stop her. Her fingertips were now invading me, working into my highly lubricated center, all the while spreading, kneading, thrilling. As if it had been planned, the music's rhythm built and Caroline went with it. Charlotte wasn't an observer. She had worked her way down my arms and was now kissing my right wrist, moaning as she did so. Next, my fingers were in her mouth, one at a time, being sucked on, amazingly, in that same throbbing rhythm. I was a pulsating mass myself, my bottom writhing along with Caroline's gentle but urgent entry into my flowery folds. "Oh my goodness, this is . . . just . . . incredible. Ohhhh." I could barely form words. Caroline responded, "I think it's time you turned over now, Emily." Her voice was as smooth and syrupy as the liquid honey that coated the back of my body. She didn't have to repeat herself. I edged over, wondering what I must look like in my semi-frenzied state. Standing over me, my two friends stopped for a moment and just smiled at the sight of me. Apparently, I looked relaxed and more than a little wanton. Charlotte leaned over and, taking my head in her hands, softly kissed me. And then again, using her tongue in widening circles in my mouth as Caroline began her work with that warm, smooth oil. The kisses went on as hands massaged my stomach and the undersides of my breasts. I wondered if they had rehearsed or discussed this because the coordination of their movements was so sublime it seemed that they must have given it some prior thought. And on it went. Charlotte left my mouth and kissed her way down my neck before adding her hands to the action. She cupped one breast and started making soft circular rotations of the nipple which had long ago come to full attention. Suddenly, Caroline was across from her doing the same thing to my other breast and together they lowered their heads and began sucking, pulling on my nipples. My legs were beginning to move, rhythmically luxuriating in this glorious assault. And down. Down they moved. I watched as their heads reached my hipbones, hands leading the way, rubbing my thighs ahead of them. Two hands on my inner thighs, opening me. Two hands searching for, and finding, my core, fingertips meeting within my welcoming pussy lips. My knees rose and my toes dug into the matted surface, my body begging this to go on and on. It got better. I looked down at the sexiest sight I had ever witnessed. Caroline and Charlotte, still actively using their left and right hands respectively deep in me, were now kissing, meeting over the table, lips locked, their spare hands behind each other's head. I thought of yelling, "Hey! It's my birthday!" But how could I complain? I mean, really! With their absurdly sexy uniforms spotted in a combination of sweat and oil, Charlotte's hem riding way up on her upper thigh, Caroline's nipples outlined against the blouse portion, they were a sight to behold. It really was all just too too much and my mounting excitement could resist no more. I felt the orgasm start and, perched on my elbows, drinking in the thrill of it all, I surged over the edge, a guttural moan escaping my lips. But, there was more. Caroline moved up the table and even as I barely reached the end of my trembling, throbbing cum, her lips were on mine, kissing me deeply. She broke the kiss and, looking me in the eye, said, "Charlotte wants something. She says she's never tasted you. It's time, birthday girl." Looking down the table, I saw Charlotte, up on the table, her hands on my knees, her head approaching its target. The look on her face was one of commitment and desire, no hesitation as she approached a first time experience. She kept her eyes open, and on mine, as she touched her tongue to my labial lips and in a slow sweeping movement, onto my clit. If she was new to this – and she surely was – one would never have guessed as she swirled and lapped and sucked in deeply, all the while driving me toward another dam-bursting moment. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 06 Caroline was now at my breasts, sucking and caressing. It was a sensory assault and I was powerless to resist. "Oh, God, now! Now! Now! Now!" I screamed and , indeed, 'now' arrived. Again. I lay there, breath slowly returning to something resembling normal. My handmaidens on either side, lightly stroking my arms, barely making contact. Silence. Somehow, they had even killed the music. Just silence. And then, two voices. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Emily, happy birthday to you." Sung sotto voce. Or something like that. I wanted to say something but was at a loss. Fortunately, Caroline wasn't. "My birthday's on June 11th. It's a Monday." Unquestionably, a tradition had been born. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 07 For quite some time, we went on as 'good little girls', holding to our pledge not to endanger our marriages with any overt sexual behavior among the three of us. We did celebrate both Caroline's birthday in June and Charlotte's in October with a repeat performance of the Super Spa Day and, in both cases, the experience was fabulous. Not being on the receiving end still provided me with a great thrill as I helped my two friends to episodes of spasmodic rapture. I knew, deep in my heart, that contact with female bodies was something that I still craved and these two celebrations only reinforced that knowledge. But, nothing was more important to me than my marriage so I lived by our decision and assumed that my two friends were doing the same. Things took a turn on a summer day that found the three of us on Caroline's deck -- the same deck where this craziness had begun in the first place. We were enjoying a relaxing day in the sun, reveling in the glorious privacy that the deck afforded. All three of us had stripped down to nothing at all as we were now totally comfortable in revealing our bodies to one another. Caroline had provided fruity cocktails and had refilled our glasses once, so we all had a mild, happy buzz going on. It was quite lovely. And, as in past experiences, it was Caroline who opened the door to a new adventure. "I have a purely hypothetical situation I'd like to discuss," she announced. Charlotte and I looked at each other and mouthed a soft "Uh-oh" in unison. "Hey - I did say hypothetical," Caroline continued. "Don't worry. It's nothing I'm actually proposing. Just something to get the juices flowing." Now I knew we were heading into dangerous waters. "Go on. I'm sure we couldn't stop you even if we wanted to." "Okay." She smiled slyly and gazed off into space before continuing. "Let's just say that we wanted to . . . initiate another woman into our little club. If you could, what one woman would you most like to seduce?" Charlotte reacted first. "Are you talking celebrity or just someone we know?" "Oh, definitely someone we know. I'm looking for a realistic fantasy here." At that point, I realized this could be tricky. Once Caroline got an idea in her head, there was little chance of stopping her, whether she claimed it was hypothetical fantasy or not. And since she was talking about real acquaintances, the possibility of carrying through on it was there. So, I decided to stay close-lipped, at least at first. Charlotte, however, was intrigued. "Okay, I have an idea. But, you first, Caroline. I'm betting you have someone in mind. Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought this up. Spill." Caroline grinned. "You know me so well. Truth is, though, I haven't been all that successful. The only one I could come up with was Paula Jennings." Paula Jennings was a fellow member of our charity group, an attractive woman a few years younger than us. We all knew her a bit but I had always found her to be a bit off-putting due to her habit of flaunting her considerable wealth. "I don't see that at all," I interjected. "She's obviously lovely to look at but her personality would drive me right up a wall." "Yeah," said Charlotte, "I can't stand her uppity crap. Nice boobs, though." That got a laugh from Caroline and me as we both pictured the lovely Paula romping with the three of us. Charlotte broke the reverie by continuing, "Ooh, I've got someone!" She seemed genuinely excited. "Mmm. Pray tell," asked Caroline the instigator. Charlotte coyly smiled and half-whispered, "Mrs. Adams." It took a moment for the name to register but I finally got it. "Sara Adams? The principal?" Sara Adams was the principal at the elementary school that our children attended. She was a bit older than us, always impeccably turned out, and quite charming in an educated, stylish way. I had never, however, thought of her in a sexual way. Never. And apparently, neither had Caroline. "Really?" she said. "Wow, that's out of left field. But, she is attractive, I guess. And I do love her accent." "Oh yes," smiled Charlotte. "I'm a sucker for a British accent. And hers is so elegant. Hey. I've always thought she was dreamy." "Well, dreamy or not," I put in, "just remember this is a fantasy. Good Lord, just imagine the scandal this could cause if we followed through. Sex-crazed school moms attack principal lookin' for lesbian lovin'. Caroline, don't even think of it." Caroline just smiled. A coy, sardonic smile that told me her brain was already working at warp speed on a potential plan of operation. She wasn't even bothering to ask me about my nominee. Poor Principal Adams was smack dab in the middle of her horny little crosshairs. "So, what do we know about the lady, Charlotte?" she asked. Charlotte was the one of us most actively involved in school matters having served as PTA treasurer and as a class mother, so she had a familiarity with the staff and often clued me in to mini-scandals (rumors of affairs, divorces, parties with drinking, et al) that she heard of. She didn't disappoint when she began her lecture on the lady of the hour. "Okay, she's married. I think he's in investments. She has a teenage son, either a junior or a senior. Her teachers love her, and fear her a bit. She's incredibly well-organized and expects the staff to stay on top of things, too. I'm told that she is brilliant at mediating situations where a parent is unhappy with a teacher. She doesn't take sides but listens to both points of views. She --" Caroline interrupted. "Enough, Charlotte. We're not doing an FBI report on her educational policies. Tell us about the woman. Any dirt at all? Does she like wine? Does she have a sense of humor? What could we use to get at her?" "Okay. I have gotten to know her a little. We've chatted a bit at dinners and she's really cool. She has a great sense of humor and I get the impression she's just a tiny bit naughty, but, of course, she has to be careful about exposing that side of her personality." "Give us an example," Caroline posed. Charlotte thought a moment and came up with a memory. "Once, we were watching a PTA fashion show and I happened to be right beside her at a large round table. One of the parents modeling had on a dress that showed off her figure nicely and Mrs. Adams leaned over to me and quietly whispered, "If I had that body, that dress wouldn't last five minutes with my husband." "Hmm. That is a bit provocative. I mean, for an elementary school principal to say that to a parent she doesn't know well." Caroline looked encouraged. "I thought so, too. And, once she said it, I got the impression that she almost wished she hadn't. She blushed a bit and made sort of an 'oops' face." As I sat there listening, I could tell that both of my friends were enjoying the conversation. I could actually use Charlotte's nipples as a barometer of the level of excitement she was experiencing. As her story progressed, they got more and more erect. With Caroline, every time she presented a comment or question, her voice got steamier. At one point, her hand brushed across her chest, lightly providing a mini-caress of her breasts. Interesting, in light of the fact that the conversation to this point had hardly been x-rated. "Well, ladies," I decided to enter the conversation. "I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Just remember -- not gonna happen. Do not even think of trying anything here." Charlotte looked at Caroline. Caroline looked at Charlotte. And I knew I had absolutely no shot at stopping their mission of seduction. *** The next time that I heard of it was a week later in Charlotte's kitchen. I avoided the topic but she brought it up, explaining that Caroline had come over to her house the very next day and, while totally sober, they had discussed methods that they thought might work. I made one last feeble attempt to reason with Charlotte but she had a ready response. "Look, Em. We're not going to do anything stupid, I promise. We're going to see if we can figure out a way to get her into a social situation. Just have her over for a girl talk deal and see where it leads. We'll read how it's going and react accordingly. If nothing's there, she'll never know what we were thinking. And, of course, we want you to be there." She made it sound quite rational but I still hoped it wouldn't come about. Hence, when I learned, a mere week later, that it was all set, I just shook my head and hoped we all wouldn't end up on the six o'clock news. Charlotte had called on the good lady at the school. Even though it was summer vacation for the students, she was there working. Our Charlotte presented herself as a concerned parent who wanted to offer her services in any way she could to help make the school a better place. Mrs. Adams appeared appreciative and they brainstormed over things Charlotte might do to help. After a bit, Charlotte mentioned her two friends, both parents of students, who had extensive fund-raising experience due to their work on a charity organization. She knew they'd love to help as well so perhaps Mrs. Adams would like to come over to her house one day and have a chat? The principal jumped at the idea. So it was that the four of us were at Charlotte's house on a rather gloomy, humid day. I felt I had to attend, if for no other reason than to 'reel them in' should the need arise. The three of us were casually dressed in shorts and summer tops while Mrs. Adams looked the professional in a smart sleeveless Indian cotton jumper. We spent the first half hour chatting, getting to know her, and she really was a delight. She shared some of her personal life and asked us about ours, never dominating the conversation but appearing to be genuinely interested in us. As I listened, I came to see why Charlotte would find her so attractive. Her English accent was indeed mesmerizing and she was not only physically attractive, but she knew how to work her beauty to the fullest -- with just the right amount of makeup and restrained use of accessories. A very classy woman, indeed. Our talk began to center on the school and we actually came up with some positive suggestions for ways to raise money that could be put to good use for school materials and activities. Sara, as she insisted we call her, positively glowed at the idea that three women of good social standing would be so willing to assist. I, for one, was happy to leave it at that but I knew my two schemers were sitting there wondering how to move the conversation elsewhere. The opening came when Sara complimented Charlotte on her beautiful home and Charlotte asked if she'd like a tour. She said she would and off we went, Caroline and I tagging along even though we knew the house quite intimately. Of course, the tour ended up in the master bedroom, scene of that crazy, unforgettable night involving three inebriated couples, and it was Caroline who fired the first salvo across the bow. "Lovely big bed, Charlotte," she purred. "Wish it could talk." "Caroline, please. Sara will get the wrong impression about us," Charlotte scolded. "Sara," said Caroline, with a look that reeked of innocence, "You're not a nun, are you?" Sara smiled and, like a moth drawn to the web, unwittingly played along. "No, hardly. And just because I'm a school principal, ladies, don't think I'm not human. That does look like a place to get good and busy." We all laughed and nodded our confirmation before leaving the room. Back in the living room, we sat and chatted on all sorts of topics, none related to the little school on the hill. Sara filled us in on her personal life, telling us how she came to America for a college semester and decided this was where she wanted to live her life. She married the first man she ever loved and some 20 years later, felt it had been the best decision of her life. Caroline was itching to take the conversation to more adventurous ground, so she asked, "Is it still as good as it was when you were younger? I mean, and please don't take this the wrong way, because you're absolutely lovely, but you are, I believe, a tiny bit older than us and I'd love to know that the passion doesn't have to fade as a marriage goes on." I'm pretty sure Sara saw me rolling my eyes at Caroline's forwardness, but she took it in stride. "I can't speak for others, Caroline, but I'm certainly lucky in that regard. We, um, do just fine, thank you very much." Our chat went on a bit longer and, thankfully, focused on more mundane topics. Sara left first, thanking Charlotte for her hospitality and reminding us that she planned to follow through on our offers to help. Since nothing of note had happened, I felt some relief and hoped that my two friends would just admit that it wasn't to be. Charlotte disappointed me. "Isn't she just lovely? She just radiates style and elegance and I wish this wasn't a hypothetical game because I want her." She said want with such emphasis that I knew she wasn't done. Caroline smiled and answered, "Well then, sweetie, consider today groundwork. We made contact, we got just the tiniest bit forward. All right, I got the tiniest bit forward but it was all in a good cause. And you heard her. She is no nun." So. Was I surprised two weeks later when I turned up at Caroline's house for some sundeck sunshine and saw Sara Adams lying contentedly on a chaise lounge wearing a lovely hounds tooth patterned bikini? Yes, actually, I was. But I had long since learned that Caroline pursued ideas with a single-mindedness that would've served military generals well. And in this campaign, she was not alone, for on another lounge, Charlotte was busily applying sunscreen as I arrived. Interesting, I thought, that I hadn't been told about Sara's attendance. "Well, Mrs. Adams," I exclaimed in greeting, "so you're a sun worshipper." Sara smiled up at me and practically purred, "Really, Emily, how could I resist? This approaches paradise." Paradise suited her because she looked quite lovely reclining before me. She was a tall woman, right around 40 years old, I guessed, and I was close -- 41. She was a typically pale-skinned Englishwoman with raven tresses and a trim, athletic figure. "I do hope you've slathered on the sunscreen. You're so fair." "Oh, yes, Caroline made sure of that." She smiled toward her hostess and I couldn't help but be struck at the similarities between this day and the one that Caroline and I went through which quite changed our lives. So, when Caroline headed into her kitchen for drinks, I was on her heels. "Em, you look so . . . quizzical. Whatever's on your mind?" she asked. "Quite a bit, actually. For the first time, I'm wondering if that first day, on your deck, was one that just developed spontaneously. Or, is this something you've done before, and since?" Caroline looked surprised and hurt. "Are you serious?" She suddenly looked quite concerned. "Emily (whole name, for emphasis, I figured), what happened between you and me was a glorious, unexpected miracle for me. I hate to hear you saying that you think I could've been . . . conniving with you." "Well, let's admit it," I responded, "you and Charlotte are certainly conniving today." Caroline paused in her addition of vodka to the fruity drink base before her and gave a bemused shrug. "Guilty on that count, but really, never before. And between our day and now? Never. Now, lighten up. Let's go have some fun." We returned to the deck to find Charlotte and Sara chatting about England. Sara had grown up in a resort town on the south coast and was telling Charlotte about the English love of beaches and the sun. "Of course, we did get our share of bleak days but when it did shine, folks would come out in masses. It was hysterical to see all those albino-like Englishmen and women looking like lobsters after a day of soaking up the rays." "Any nude sunbathing done over there?" asked Caroline as she refilled her guests' glasses. "Yes, actually there is. It's condoned in specified areas." Caroline the spider spun on. "Now, be honest, Sara. Did you ever?" Her quarry was happy to oblige. "Well, when I was of an age that might do so, it wasn't so readily accepted, but, yes, once or twice I slipped off my top. Felt wonderful, really. So liberating. What about you three? My goodness, with the way this deck is configured, I'd think you'd have done it right here." Dear God, I thought, was this really a seduction? Or was this woman a willing participant in a little afternoon fun with the girls? She certainly wasn't bashful about sexy topics. "Actually, we have," offered Charlotte. "I mean, it's just us girls, after all, and it feels so good to really feel the sun's rays . . . um, everywhere." She smiled coyly, looking so innocent, and I almost giggled aloud as I watched her guile at work. "Well," answered Sara with a grin, "please don't let me be the one to stop you." Charlotte giggled softly and immediately lowered the straps of her bikini top and tugged a bit so the cups dropped below her breasts. In one movement, she rotated the garment and undid the clasp. She casually tossed it to the deck surface and settled back down into a reclining position. Done and done. I noticed that throughout this process, Sara watched for a bit and then made an exaggerated show of casualness as she looked away. She did, however, make sure to sneak a final peek before closing her eyes and resuming her sun worship. What she didn't do was remove her top. Caroline had released her glorious boobs from their restraints while I, having gotten down to my one-piece suit earlier, chose to keep my girls under wraps. We quietly lounged for several minutes before I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came out, I found Sara in the kitchen finishing off a glass of water. We exchanged smiles and she then indirectly cut to the chase. "So, Emily. I sense you're worried for my safety." I was forced to reply in my 'I have no idea what you mean' voice, saying, "Sara, I have no idea what you mean." She shook her head and purred, "Oh, I'm quite sure you do. You are under the impression that I'm quite unaware of the little game your two chums are playing." I said nothing, hoping she'd continue, which she did. "Caroline and Charlotte are in the act of attempting to seduce me. Now, I don't know if it's some sort of a bet or if they seriously want to get cozy with me but, rest assured, I do know what's underway." After a short pause, she added, "And I sense you are either an unwillingly participant or someone totally against their endeavor." A principal she may be, I thought, but she could've done just fine in a British court of law wearing one of those silly wigs their barristers wear. It was all I could do to stop myself from crying out, "Yes! Yes! You're right, we're all so guilty!" Instead, I bit my lip and considered what to say. "You're way too smart for them. Although, they really are transparent, aren't they?" We shared a soft laugh and I continued, "I'm very curious as to your plan of response. Trust me, anything I can do to assist in reducing them to shamed little girls, I'd be honored." Sara thought for a moment and eventually said, "Let me give it some thought. For today, I'm going to gently encourage them -- make them think I'm . . . attainable. And then, perhaps, you and I can decide on some course of action to catch them in their own game." "I like the way you think. I'm on board." So, we returned to the deck, resumed sunning, both of us remaining under cover. After a few minutes, Sara sat up and softly called out, "Charlotte, would you be a dear and let me use some of your lotion?" Charlotte nodded and rose from her chaise, tube in hand. I doubt if she was expecting to see Sara Adams reaching around to the middle of her back and unclipping her bikini top as Charlotte approached. But that was what was happening. Sara worked the clip loose and seductively cupped the underside of her breasts as the straps fell from her shoulders. She smiled up at Charlotte with a look that I can only describe as wanton. From my seat, I could see her lovely breasts just about exposed but Sara was masterful in the buildup -- slowly, oh so slowly, she relaxed the pressure of her hands until, nipples and all, her quite beautiful pair were there for the looking. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 07 I thought Charlotte was going to pass out. A soft gasp escaped from her lips and the hand that extended to hand Sara the suntan lotion was visibly trembling. Far in the background, Caroline was working hard at pretending to be disinterested, but I could detect eyes that were more open than closed. For my part, having had the conversation with Sara, I was aware that this was, in all likelihood, a staged come on. But, I couldn't deny that it was incredibly sexy and that Sara truly was desirable. Sara took the lotion and purred, "Stay here and talk to me while I apply this stuff." Charlotte reacted like a puppy, practically wagging her tail as she sat at the bottom edge of the chaise. The conversation was forgettable but Sara's actions weren't. She squirted a trail of the gooey white lotion in an arc over each breast and then commenced to use both of her hands to cover the orbs using slow circuitous motions that ended with her 4 fingers cupping the undersides while her thumbs worked in tandem on her noticeably erect nipples. Staged or not, it was mesmerizing and I, for one, was reacting, right where I live. Charlotte, poor dear, was trying her best not to be obvious, but there was precious little eye contact between the two ladies sharing the chaise. Her bottom squirmed and I'd have loved to have had a heart monitor handy to measure what would have certainly been a rapid little race. Eventually, she returned, albeit reluctantly, to her seat and we all got back to the serious business of soaking up rays. But, Sara had planted a seed just as she had said she might and now, she was the puppeteer and my two silly sisters were being strung along but good. The next day, I was home alone when the phone rang. It was Sara and I could practically see her smile through the receiver. "Well, how was that?" "You mean your topless counterattack? Oh, I think you know quite well how that went over. Poor Charlotte was in your thrall. I'm almost afraid to ask what's next." And I meant it. I really didn't see where this was heading. "Well," replied Sara, "I do have an idea but I will need your help. Would you be available to come over this afternoon for tea? We could discuss it then." Having nothing on my docket and loving a good-natured double cross, I answered, "Sure. I'd love to. Especially if you're offering one of those English teas with scones and strawberry jam and . . ." "Yes, and clotted cream, too," Sara said, laughing. "We'll do it right proper," she added, really laying on the accent extra thick. "How's 3:00?" So, at five after three, there I was at Sara's lovely home. She met me at the door, wearing a lovely pale pink linen dress, and we shared the briefest of greeting hugs. Inside, the home was comfortably stylish and a bit sloppy. There were books everywhere, in bookcases, on side tables, and even piled on the floor here and there. She offered no apology for the disorder and led me to an overstuffed couch where I waited as she fetched the tea tray. It was all very comfortable. We shared some innocuous chit chat as we had our tea and treats before the conversation turned to those crazy friends of mine. I started. "So, when did you get wise to what was going on?" "Well," answered Sara, "it was hardly difficult. Remember, I've been in education for years and I've grown quite used to youngsters lying through their teeth to cover their tracks. So, Caroline's cheeky questions and comments were pretty transparent for me. At first, I thought she was just a horny lady who wanted dirt about my private life but, the more she probed, the more I realized she was flirting. Charlotte began to chip in and that's when I was sure they were up to something. I couldn't figure you out, though. You never took part and, honestly, it looked like you disapproved. That's why I decided to talk to you about it." She smiled and went on. "So, was I right? Or are you part of this scandalous conspiracy?" I returned the smile and said, "Just an observer, ma'am. I tried to dissuade them but, perhaps you've noticed, they're rather persistent once they get an idea." "Well, I must ask," Sara responded, "Is this out of leftfield, or do your friends have a history . . . with women, I mean?" The time had arrived. I had to decide whether or not to share our rather interesting history. A few seconds passed, but they felt like an eternity. Could Sara be trusted to be discreet? I figured we were in pretty deep already, so I spilled. I told her all about the steps -- my initial visit to Caroline's deck; our magical trip to New York; Charlotte's discovery and decision to come aboard. I did not, however, tell her about the crazy night where our husbands learned our secrets and joined the party, so to speak. That one stayed in the vault and always would, I felt. My audience was rapt. Her eyes were on me the entire time, she fidgeted as the story got hotter, and I swear her jaw dropped when I tossed in a few salty illustrative terms. Her response? One word. "Goodness." I sighed. "So, now you know. I, um . . . I'm comfortable with this. It's become a part of who I am and I've felt it was something that would stay in this small circle. My friends' decision to try to involve you has had me worried but I hope you can maybe defuse the situation and bring them back to earth. That's why I'd be happy to help in your plan in any way I can." Sara looked a bit flustered. It almost seemed like my revelations had taken her off her game and maybe she was reconsidering whatever it was she had in mind. She finally took a breath, and a sip of tea, before carefully choosing her words. "I wasn't expecting this. I mean, I guess I didn't think you were all so seriously committed to . . . your activities. Suddenly, it's not so frivolous." She paused, took a sip and continued. "You see, I, too, have a bit of a history." Whoa. Now it was I who was hanging on every word. Sara's hand went to her throat and she looked as if she was trying to compose herself. "Emily, you've shared a great deal with me today, showing enormous trust. I need the same trust from you." I didn't hesitate. "Of course. Whatever you choose to tell me goes no further, not even to Caroline and Charlotte, if you so desire." With that, she went on. "You've kept things from your mates, well, so have I. My husband knows nothing about my past . . . my personal past . . . in England, before I came here to go to college. He doesn't know that I had a very serious relationship with a school friend whilst in preparatory school." Considering the context, there was no doubt that this school friend was not of the male gender. So. Things were rapidly changing before my eyes as Sara went on. "I won't bore you with the details. (Ha! As if she could!) Just be aware that my friend and I experimented, like many young girls do, and it grew into love and, really, quite incredible passion." Sara's wistful expression seemed to indicate that she was looking back and reliving a very special part of her life. I spoke up. "It sounds as though it is something you cherish. Are you . . . are you telling me there's something in you that wants to . . . rekindle? Like, maybe the idea of re-experiencing . . ." I stopped, fearing that if I had misjudged, I could really be making an ass of myself. Sara's look eased my fears. She locked eyes with me and nodded, ever so slightly. Then, the tiniest hint of a smile. "That's it exactly. I've never forgotten it. I've never gotten over it. It was . . . it was enough that I thought I was a lesbian." When she paused, there was such a depth of silence in the room. I waited, not wanting to overreact. "It's really one reason I came to America, a big reason. I had to find out who I was. I stayed open to whatever developed and what happened was, I met my husband and fell deeply in love. And, that was that." I probed. "But, it was always there?" "Yes. Exactly. I would meet an attractive woman, someone who sent out a certain sensuality, and I'd have this realization that I wanted her. I wanted to have that experience again. And, lo and behold, along come your two game players. I brought you here intending to see if I could set up some charade to make it seem to you that I was stringing them along, but, in truth, I was thinking there might be a way for me to satisfy what has become an enormous craving." So, there it was, cards on the table. Caroline and Charlotte had accidently stumbled on a somewhat willing participant! Oh, happy day! Yeah, right. Now, what? "You say you intended to have me serve as some sort of co-conspirator. Have things changed?" I asked, wondering as I did, where was this heading? Sara answered, clearing up all possible misinterpretations. "Yes, Emily. Things have changed. If I'm going to take care of this itch (Goodness, what a choice of word, I thought!), I want it to be with someone I trust, and who I like, and who turns me on enormously." Hmmm. It dawned on me that Sara was not talking about Nicole Kidman. Her unwavering gaze was on dear little me. I was it. And, as luck would have it, this advance did not repulse me. No, not in the least. On the contrary, I was already imagining myself undressing the lovely school principal and helping her to some remediation. But, I knew, despite pounding heart, it was best to stay cool. So, I returned the gaze and quietly said, "Anyone in particular who fits the bill?" Sara nodded. "Yes, she's right here, in this room." She stood and smoothed her dress. She crossed the few feet between us and beckoned me to stand. I did so and she took both of my hands in hers. "Will you help me, Emily? Will you take me back in time? I want this so." My mind raced. I noticed our heights were identical, that she had a scent of gardenias, that her hands were trembling -- or maybe, it was mine. And, I committed. Spur of the moment, no time to think deeply, I just let my heart, or my loins, take me over the line and I kissed her. Right then and there, I moved into her and kissed her, soft and slow, and eventually deep, breathing in the taste of strawberries and cream that we had just tasted minutes earlier. All thoughts of giving this sort of thing up for the good of all concerned simply disappeared. "How much time do we have?" I whispered in her ear. "It's after four," she answered. "My husband will be home by six." "No earlier?" "Never." "Then we had best get busy," I purred. "Take me to your bed." And she did. I had a moment's fear of leaving behind traces -- scents, wetness -- but, as we climbed the stairs and entered the master bedroom, I thought that if Sara wasn't worried, why should I be? She had my hand in hers and I could hear her breathing, aroused and excited. At the foot of her bed, Sara turned to me and put her arms around my back. "This is a dream. It's been so long and I've wanted this ever so badly." Her eyes filled and she pulled me in for another kiss, harder this time, accompanied by a guttural moan that told me just how needy this woman was. Her lips were full and soft and scented while her tongue gently probed my mouth until I took if between my teeth and sucked, causing her to gasp slightly. I considered the time constraints and knew that this was going to be quick and hot. The kissing was so nice, though, I certainly was in no hurry to bring this stage to an end. At last, I broke free and moved back just far enough to give me room to attack the buttons which covered the front of Sara's dress. They extended down below her waist and I found myself on my knees, spreading the linen garment as it slipped from her shoulders and slid to the floor, pooling around her feet. Chaste white panties and a simple white cotton bra were all that remained of Sara's clothing and I drank in the sight of her as my hands held her at the waist. It was awfully easy to move them down and around to the back giving me a handful of bottom to dig into with my fingers. Apparently, this met with her approval as Sara sighed softly from behind a very satisfied expression. Her hands locked together at the back of my head and gently pulled me to her, the result being that my cheek ended up pressed against her tummy, right above the waistband of her panty. I stayed there and gradually lowered the garment over her hips and down her legs until it rested in a puddle around her ankles. I inched my face lower until my lips were buried in the silky tangle of coarse, dark brown pubic hair that concealed Sara's feminine jewels from my sight. "Oh. Fuck. Yes." Sara's voice above my head again told me of her urgent needs. I decided to make this all about her, and to be quick about it. My right hand found her right knee and began a steady ascent up the inside of her thigh. I encountered a wet trickle before reaching my ultimate target and pressed on. Her pussy lips were puffy and positively coated with her aroused wetness. I spread them with two fingers and lightly pinched the hood that concealed my target. Sara shivered and swooned a bit at that point. When my index finger found and traced the outline of her clit, while my pinky and ring finger slid into her, she made a sound that was otherworldly. Her knees buckled and I saw her hand reach for the edge of her bed in order to keep herself upright. Between gasps, Sara found enough control to beg, "Oh, Emily. That feels . . . incredible. Go deeper, please. Make me cum." Good. We agreed on the mission statement. I figured it wouldn't be hard and decided to add a tongue to the digital attack. Spreading her lips wide by using both my hands, I dove in with a long, slow, wet lick. And then again. And again. I've always responded well to words during sex so, while coming up for air, I purred, with as much heat as I could muster, "Oh, Sara, you have a delicious cunt." Then right back to work. I could hear Sara's response above me, a long, low moan which went on and on, building in intensity, in tandem with forward hip thrusts, rhythmic and stronger and stronger and then, a jerk, a convulsive push and then wetness all over my mouth, a drenching liquid coating of female. My God, I thought. So quick. How badly had she needed this? How long had she thought about it? Whatever, here I was, still entirely dressed and now, there was Sara, looking quite the sight -- bent at the waist onto her bed, panties at her feet, bra still on -- and breathing as though she had sprinted through a marathon. I was still on my knees at the foot of the bed and, except for some badly smeared makeup, I probably could've answered the front door and nobody would've been any the wiser. But, of course, I had no interest in doorbells or makeup. I wanted mine. Sara's intense reaction had wound me up pretty good and I hoped that lady throbbing on the bed wanted to relive what it was like to give, as well as to get, female pleasuring. I stood and walked to her, then gently lifted the rest of her onto the bed. She started to speak but I put a finger to her lips. Without a word, I stood over her and undressed. I pulled my polo over my head and undid my bra, all the while attempting to maintain eye contact. For her part, Sara looked mesmerized as she struggled to regulate her still-labored breathing. I arched my back a bit, trying to show off my boobs, as I unzipped my khaki slacks and then slithered out of my lace-trimmed panties. I stood naked above her and, on the spur of the moment, cupped my breasts and asked, "Do you want these?" I lowered both hands to my privates, spread my legs slightly and asked, "And this. Do you want this?" Where this wanton woman had come from I will never know, but I felt totally in control and quite wicked. Sara merely nodded, as if to say, "Oh, yes. You know I do." I climbed onto the bed and straddled her at waist level. I lowered my arms until my hands were either side of her face and slowly approached her face with mine. "Here. Taste what you taste like, " I whispered and kissed her, putting as much of my mouth and tongue on her as I could. She moaned into me as we kissed and as our breasts mashed together. My knee had worked its way between hers and a delicious rhythm started as our female parts ground together. I liked being in control, on top, and instinctively, pressed my advantage, breaking the kiss and pushing up away from her with my arms extended. Again, I stared at her hard and sat above her briefly before beginning to move. Up. Higher along her body until my crotch had cleared her breasts and now was poised above her jaw. "Look at me, Sara. Look at my pussy. See how wet it is." I paused and spread my knees a bit wider on either side of her head, bringing my private parts closer to her wide open eyes. "I want you to taste me now, Sara." I could barely see Sara's eyes but it was easy to imagine the lustful look they would have betrayed. Her arms came up and her hands took firm hold of my ass. She pulled me down to her and began hungry, long slurps all over my pussy, using her lovely, long tongue to invade me, finding my clit and greedily sucking on it. It was heavenly. I, meanwhile, was able to remove my extended arms from the headboard and spend some time pinching my nipples, in rhythm to the way I was grinding myself into Sara's willing mouth. For an instant, I realized that I had crossed the line back into this taboo behavior that I had sworn off of, but I was hardly in any mood to stop it. Particularly since I felt an enormous orgasm welling up quite close to the surface. That moment was triggered by words. Sara's words. Pulling away from her attack briefly, she half moaned, half gasped, "You're fucking delicious!" Then back at it, that magnificent tongue piercing me like a cock, in and out, in and out, until there was no stopping it. I came in a torrent, falling forward as I sobbed. Rubbing into her without a thought of how I might be scratching her face with my pubes. Pure, raw passion -- it'll take you right out of your senses. I was finally able to come down and climbed off her. Breathing like a freight train, I lay beside her. "Welcome back," I murmured. Sara just purred. She, too, had been taken to another place. After a few minutes, our breathing slowly returning to normal, she spoke. "Emily, thank you. That was . . . glorious." Her expression showed she meant it. "Now promise me, you'll be discreet. In my position, any word of behavior like this . . ." Suddenly, she really did look concerned. I thought back to my own panic attack when Caroline and I visited New York City and my life changed. "Sara," I spoke softly. "You have nothing to worry about. I will tell no one of this, I promise. Not even Charlotte and Caroline. You have my solemn oath." And, I meant every word. "As a matter of fact, it might be a good idea if I were to tell them that I came over here today, at your invitation, and you told me you knew what was going on. You told me how upset you were by it and asked me to somehow let them know that they had to stop." I smiled. "How does that sound?" Sara had been looking up at the ceiling but now, she turned on her pillow and faced me. "That makes great sense, Emily." She paused, and added, practically purring, "Or . . ." "Or?" Uh-oh. "Or . . . the four of us could go for a girls' weekend to the shore. My husband and I have rented a lovely little cottage there before. Two bedrooms. Might be fun." Damn. What next? I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 08 At the beginning of my first entry, I said, "I'm not a lesbian." Well, that's still true. But, based on everything that's been going on since that declaration, I'd have to say that there's certainly some bisexuality going on around here. In reflecting on all of this, I really can't believe what's happened over the past several years. I never - NEVER - saw this in me. And yet, I now look on all these experiences that I've had with my female friends as an integral part of who I am. I wouldn't give them up for anything. And, sometimes, they come from out of the blue, when least expected, and are every bit as sweet. This chapter does not concern my dear Caroline and Charlotte, nor does it continue the recent dalliance with Sara Adams, that randy school principal who used me (as a willing subject) to re-kindle long dormant urges. No, this story takes place far away from home, fanned by deliciously warm tropical breezes. It happened in February. My daughter Julia was headed to Florida with her school band during school vacation to take part in a series of concerts and, more important to her and her friends, several visits to amusement parks of note. My husband and I had great faith in the school personnel acting as chaperones and trusted our girl to behave while having the time of her life. Once her trip was firmed up, Richard decided there was no reason for us to deal with winter's blasts while Julia was enjoying the sun, so he suggested we head south ourselves. Some years earlier, we had spent a week on the island of St. Martin in the Caribbean and had loved it. As a matter of fact, I think I made reference to that trip in an earlier chapter - something about going topless on a very French beach. Anyway, I suggested we return and Richard happily agreed to set the plans in motion. He made some enquiries, found a place to stay that sounded heavenly, and secured flight, lodgings and rental car for Monday through Saturday. Julia would leave on Saturday and come home the following Sunday, by which time we'd be back. Lovely! The weather cooperated for our departures. Julia flew out, armed with clarinet and an ear to ear smile and, 48 hours later, it was our turn. We arrived at the St. Maarten airport (Funny little island - half Dutch and half French) shortly before noon, got our car, and hightailed it across the central part of the island to our hotel. It was an interesting place. It consisted of more than a dozen separate buildings, each of which had accommodations for up to four families. The best feature was that each building had its own pool, not enormous but more than sufficient for quick laps and cooling off in the scorching tropical sun. Now we just had to hope that the other rooms in our unit were occupied by convivial folks. Not cloying, not loud, just pleasant. Hopefully, not too much to ask. Our room was comfortable, with tile floors, a king bed and quiet air-conditioning. Within seconds, we had both stripped down into what would become our uniforms for the week: shorts, tee shirts, and flip-flops - that is when I wasn't in a comfy little bikini. This was close to my idea of heaven. Richard made a quick run to a nearby grocery store and, by mid-afternoon, we were poolside, savoring gin and tonics, and cheese and crackers. I had slathered on the necessary sun screen and was just getting into a lightweight English mystery when our first building mates made their appearance. They were Ted and Mari-Ellen from the Midwest. They looked to be in their early to mid 40's, Ted tall and stout, Mari-Ellen mid-height and ... shall we say, pleasantly plump. Just a nice, sweet-looking couple from America's Heartland by the look of it and, sure enough, after engaging in conversation, we were quite taken by their personalities. They shared without gushing about their lives and asked discreetly about ours. As a bonus, they broke away after a few minutes, moving to the other side of the pool. The message? We know you probably want your space, we certainly want ours. Perfect. As it happened, Ted and Mari-Ellen were the only other occupants of our bungalow for the length of our stay which meant our pool was a haven of peace and quiet. We settled into a glorious habit early in the week. Up early for a walk along the magnificent Atlantic beach that was but a few minutes from our door; back for a leisurely breakfast on our deck; some time at the pool; lunch at one of the many beachside restaurants and snack bars; some beach time on comfy lounge chairs under a pastel-hued umbrella; back to our room for a late afternoon nap (which invariably led to activities other than sleeping. Oh, what that tropical heat does for the libido!); drinks by the pool; drive to a restaurant for dinner at one of the many establishments for which St. Martin is rightly renowned. Again, my idea of heaven. Each day, I would talk to Julia on my phone and was thrilled to hear of her adventures. Now it was just trying to find a way to make time stand still. We continued to engage in friendly conversations with Ted and Mari-Ellen. Ted and Richard really hit it off, having several common interests. Mari-Ellen was sweet and shy but comfortable enough in her own image to wear a tight one-piece bathing suit that showed off her ample curves. She was no 21st century stick-figure model that was for sure but carried her weight well. Her breasts looked like they were making a serious effort to avoid containment and she giggled more than once as she pulled on the top of her suit to bring them back to their proper place. On Wednesday, we extended an invitation to the couple to join us for dinner and they happily accepted. We drove to nearby Grand Case and had a delightful meal overlooking the tranquil waters of a bay that looks across to neighboring Anguilla. Over coffee, Ted had a proposal. He and Mari-Ellen were scheduled to go on a sailing trip the next day. A company had purchased sailing yachts and took folks out to act as crew members as they raced. While Ted was thrilled at the prospect, Mari-Ellen was less so. She was convinced it was going to be an exercise in sea-sickness and was hoping to opt out with Richard taking her place. They didn't want to intrude on our plans but wondered if Richard might enjoy such an adventure. I know my husband and I acknowledge his love of sailing so I knew what his response would be. It was comical to watch him trying to contain his excitement as he waited for my reaction but I didn't make him suffer. "Richard would be thrilled," I said, "and it's totally fine with me. How awful can it be to spend the day relaxing here?" Richard beamed, gave me a hug and a peck, and plans commenced concerning departure and return times. Mari-Ellen and I agreed to spend the day together finding ways to entertain ourselves. I swear, it never entered my mind ... My husband, however, was all too aware of the possibilities. As we lay in bed that night, reading prior to lights off, he put his book down and leaned toward me on one elbow. "So, might you have an interesting tale to tell me on my return from the high seas tomorrow?" he asked. At that point, I was still clueless. "Tale? What do you mean?" "You're going to be spending the day with a pleasant, attractive woman. I just wondered ..." Richard's look was one of bemusement. Eventually, I caught on. I'll admit to being flummoxed. I knew, of course, that Richard was aware of my activities as a result of a crazy night we had had in which all was revealed and wildness ensued. But we hadn't talked about it since and I really worried that he had been hurt by the whole episode. "Sweetie," I began, "I promise you, it never crossed my mind. I just plan to have a relaxing day tomorrow and Mari-Ellen is just someone I look forward to hanging out with." I paused and decided to press on. "Do you think about this whenever I'm in female company? God, what have I done? How have I complicated your feelings toward me?" I must have looked quite troubled because Richard immediately tried to dismiss my fears. He took my hand in his and said, "Emily. Calm down. I told you before, everything's fine. I'm totally comfortable with you and your friends. For whatever reason, it just doesn't bother me. And, I've never admitted this to you before but ... it even excites me a bit." He smiled a somewhat goofy, totally endearing smile and continued. "I am a guy after all and things like this are, frankly, more than a little erotic to imagine. So, don't worry. Enjoy. And, hell, feel free to share." My jaw was hanging so low I could've caught flies by the bushel. This was something I never expected. "Richard, you devil! All this time, I've been feeling guilty and it turns out, you've been turned on!?" My head was shaking left and right. "I hardly know what to say." My handsome husband reached across and took me in his arms. "Life is short, Em. Grab for all it offers." But, after a pause, he added, "Just stay away from other men. That I couldn't handle." He then kissed me, softly, tenderly. An object pressing against my thigh, growing more insistent by the second, told me this kiss was destined to lead to more. Taking his beautiful cock in my hand, I broke from his lips and whispered, "There's just one man I want. Now and forever. But, especially, now." Our travel alarm went off at 6:30. Still feeling woozy following some truly splendid sex, I found it hard to push myself from the bed but knowing that Richard and Ted needed to get an early start, I did so and went to the kitchenette to prepare a light breakfast. My sailor was out the door by 7:15, leaving me with a kiss and the words, "Have fun." My answer was, "I'll try. You be careful." Ted was waiting for him and Mari-Ellen was standing beside him, wrapped in a light bathrobe. I asked her in for a cup of coffee and she took me up on the offer. I couldn't help it. After Richard's bombshell of the previous night, I found myself looking at her differently. I noticed for the first time just how rose-colored and full her lips were. The robe was cinched so tightly that it highlighted those splendid boobs of hers. I had to reel myself in thinking how embarrassing it would be if she caught me staring. I asked if she had taken a morning walk on the beach and she hadn't so I said, "Oh, you must. The light is amazing and the scenery is fascinating." I explained that it was common to see several guests of the nudist resort from the far end of the beach walking in the early hours. While such behavior was discouraged during the day by the gendarmerie, it was generally tolerated before 9:00 a.m. "You mean totally naked? Women and men? Really?" Mari-Ellen looked somewhat aghast. When I nodded in the affirmative, she giggled and said, "Then why are we sitting here? This I've got to see!" She stood, took one last sip and headed for the door. "I'll get on my suit and be back here in five minutes. Yes, I am wearing my bathing suit." I quickly slipped out of my shorts and tee and donned my favorite two-piece, threw on a loose-fitting caftan over it and prepared to take Mari-Ellen to the promised land. We were on the sandy strand by quarter to eight. It was such a glorious place, particularly when one realized it was February. The waves created a rhythmic din to our left as we dug our toes into the firm, soft grains. There were other walkers heading in our direction and a few in the distance were approaching. I half-jokingly told my companion, "Now, behave yourself. Stare if you must, but be discreet. And, under no circumstances is grabbing allowed." Mari-Ellen giggled like a school girl and responded, "I'll do my best." Then she asked, "What do the men do if they ... you know ... get excited? Are erections allowed?" "I've never seen one in this situation," I answered. "I really think experienced naturalists don't think of this as anything sexual. But, if it did happen, there's always the ocean to dive into." We laughed at the thought. Within two minutes, the first nudists approached. A relatively fit, middle-aged couple, tanned from tip to toe, passed us, interrupting their conversation to nod a polite hello. Mari-Ellen waited until we were at a discreet distance before commenting, "Well, that was nice. And, he seemed quite relaxed. Everywhere." I smiled and said, "Mmm, that's the norm. She had a really nice body, didn't you think? Trust me, you see people here who really should stay covered up. But that's wrong of me. If they're happy and comfortable, God bless 'em." Mari-Ellen nodded in agreement. The farther we walked, the closer we got to the nudist resort, and the frequency of encounters with the resort's guests increased. As I had indicated, we saw all sizes and shapes, some strikingly attractive, most just normal men and women who would never qualify for beauty pageants or the silver screen. Mari-Ellen seemed to take great joy in providing a running commentary, rating that which we had just passed. The highlight of the walk was a tall, thin fellow who, even in his apparently relaxed state, had a penis of truly impressive length. One could only imagine what it would have been like erect, a thought that my new friend took great pleasure in visualizing. "Wow. I'd pay to see that thing." My Mid-American farm girl obviously had a lusty side to her. We reached the low rock boundary that separated the nudist resort from the rest of the beach. "Care to cross the rocks?" I asked. "Oh, we can't. We're dressed." Mari-Ellen seemed somewhat disappointed as she voiced the words. "Actually, I believe it's clothing optional. I don't think we'd be breaking any rules. We may annoy those who don't care to be stared at like zoo creatures but I don't see any sign prohibiting our using the beach there." I smiled and gave a little head bob, indicating my desire to forge on. Mari-Ellen answered with a silent giggle and on we went. Truth be told, I did feel a bit uncomfortable, like I was intruding on private turf. I think we both made an effort to seem like we were deep in conversation and unaware of the sun bathers we passed, but, at the same time, I knew Mari-Ellen was treating herself to discreet eyefuls at every opportunity. We did about another 200 yards before turning and retracing our steps. On the way back, the best looking couple we had seen cut right in front of us on their way into the surf. He was dark-haired and exceedingly well-muscled while she was the prototypical California blonde with locks trailing to the top of her ass cheeks. His penis flapped a bit and her pear-shaped breasts bounced in a similar rhythm as they moved hand in hand to the waves. Other than on their heads, they were both totally hairless. It was actually quite lovely, like a Roman statue come to life. Mari-Ellen let out an appreciative sigh as we moved past and softly stated, "There go the chosen ones." We stopped for a bit of breakfast at one of the beach cafes and Mari-Ellen commented, "That was really fun, Emily. Thanks so much for suggesting it. It's funny how used you get to nudity after a little while. They all looked so at peace." "Thinking of trying it?" I asked, grinning slyly. "You know, there's nobody around at our pool and it's quite secluded." "Hmm. Let's start with suits on but, who knows? Give me something tropical and icy to sip on and I might surprise even me." We paid our bill with a hotel card and headed back to our place. As always, our unit's pool was deserted. A row of medium sized evergreens provided a screen from passers-by and, once by the side of the pool, you felt like you were in your own private Eden. We settled down into beach chairs and relative silence. I felt that I had found a real friend in Mari-Ellen, someone with whom I was truly comfortable, which meant we didn't have to fill the air with constant chatter. It was simply pleasant being together. After about twenty minutes, Mari-Ellen got up and walked down the steps into the pool. The expression on her face spoke volumes about how relaxed and happy she was. I stood up and asked, "How about something cold and frosty? I'm ready." "Oh, that would be great, thanks," she answered while floating on her back, the round mounds of her breasts topped by erect nipples poking through the bright blue top of her swimsuit. I smiled and went off to play waitress. We sipped relatively tasty pina coladas side by side in the lounge chairs. Mari-Ellen looked over, smiled, and said, "I will if you will." My quizzical look indicated my lack of cognition. So, rather than wait for the meaning to sink in, she sat forward and lowered the two straps from her shoulders. And didn't stop there. Her bountiful boobs were released as she continued down, stopping below her navel. A wide grin let me know that she was having a great hoot of a time. Who was I to let her stand alone? So, I reached around the back and unclipped my bikini top. I was staring at Mari-Ellen's great set as my girls made their appearance. "Very nice, Em. They're perfect." "Thanks, Sweetie," I responded, "but I'd love to trade you, if just for one day. Yours are magnificent. Feels good, doesn't it?" "Oh, my, yes. Heavenly. I'd love to take it all off but I guess we'd better not." She actually looked disappointed. "Yes, I think we'd better not. The hotel probably has rules, even here on the French side." So we sat there, breasts on display just for the two of us, sipping our drinks and getting happily buzzed in a Caribbean mid-morning. I watched Mari-Ellen as she wisely applied lotion to her breasts and it certainly seemed like she was enjoying the process a bit more than might be expected. We had had refills of our coladas and had entered into a fuzzy, utterly relaxed state. It wasn't that surprising when Mari-Ellen re-opened the topic of beach nudity. "All those men, with their ... things just hanging out. That was really something." She stretched a bit and went on. "I have to admit, that really got me a little turned on." "Just a little?" "Okay, a lot. I'm still warm just thinking about it." Her hands were slowly rubbing up and down her thighs as she spoke and I was sure she wanted to rub higher. So, I decided to move the issue forward a bit. "You're not alone, Mari-Ellen. I'm working really hard to stay composed and ladylike over here." I smiled and made a discreet but unmistakable swipe with my right hand from my neck and down diagonally across my breasts. Mari-Ellen's eyes caught it and her look grew even more glazed. "Tell me," I asked, "do you ever touch yourself?" She nodded timidly and half-whispered her words, "Sure. Now and then." I sat forward, so that our faces were separated by only a couple of feet. "Well, I'm going inside. I need some release. It might be fun if you came with me." I smiled as I heard my words. "I guess that had double meaning. Come." I stood and turned my back on her, wondering if I had pushed too hard. The sound of her rising from her chair behind me answered that question. We walked silently into the coolness of my room. Glad that I had made the bed and straightened up a bit earlier, I pulled back the brightly-colored bedspread and smoothed the top sheet while Mari-Ellen stood watching. "It's a big bed," I said. "We have plenty of room." The muted whirring of the ceiling fan was the only sound in an otherwise incredibly still atmosphere. I took the lead, lowering myself to the bed, propping up a pillow behind my back, and removing my bikini bottom by hooking fingers into its two sides. All the time, Mari-Ellen stood above me, watching intently. No more giggling now. Instead, she gripped her bathing suit which clung to her waist and, with effort, inched it down her body, finally stepping out of it and posing before me. I examined her fullness. She was a big woman, no doubt, but not unfit, just large and rounded. I thought of Renoir's nudes for a moment but realized there were no rolls of fat on Mari-Ellen, just firm flesh. I sensed she didn't quite know how to proceed and feared that she would panic in embarrassment, so I felt it was time to comment. I Just Don't Know . . . Ch. 08 "Mari-Ellen, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" She beamed. Her eyes were on my hands as I had consciously moved them down my body to the junction of my legs. I was now using those hands to softly caress my pubic hair. "Why don't you come lie down?" She walked around the foot of the bed and settled herself beside me, careful it seemed to keep a few feet of space between us. We were upright, legs spread out below us, her hands taking the same position on her puffy mound as mine were. A wafting scent of female sex was now noticeable and soft sighs were coming from my bedmate. I watched as she scooched down so that she was flat on her back and, dropping any pretense of decorum, she dipped the middle finger of her right hand into her spread pussy lips while her left hand took hold of her right nipple. "Oh, this is ..." Her voiced trailed away but it was obvious where she was heading. I decided to get a better look. I got up on my knees and turned so that I was looking up from the foot of the bed. "I want to watch you cum, Mari-Ellen," I purred. "Cum for me." I leaned in closer, my face now mere inches from her active fingers. She had a beautiful pussy, curly dark locks in abundance but neatly trimmed away from her clitoral lips. A dark pink slash between fleshy, wet lips. A substantial clit that had emerged and was being worked furiously by a woman who badly wanted release. "Think of all those beautiful cocks we saw. Imagine your hands on them, stroking them as they got harder and harder and became coated with her juices. Oh, yes, Mari-Ellen, make them cum with you." She was loving it, nodding as I spoke. "Spread wider, let me see your beautiful pussy. I want to see you gush." Goodness, I was a regular Anaïs Nin the way I was spitting out the sex talk. The truth was, it was all I could do to keep from diving between those substantial legs are surrounding her clit with my lips. I would have had to hurry though because, right before my eyes, urged on by my words, Mari-Ellen exploded in a shivering, moaning, heaving series of spasms as she came to high heaven. On and on she rolled, uttering one continuous syllable, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," until finally, she gave one last shudder and collapsed back down to the mattress. I stayed were I was, and started to rub my hand up and down her near leg. Her breathing, which had been labored, slowly returned to normal. Finally, after at least three or four minutes of masturbation afterglow, Mari-Ellen lifted her head and said, "Oh, wow. Emily. I don't know what to say." "I do," I answered. "That was wonderful. For me, to watch, and for you, I hope, to enjoy. Pure pleasure, Mari-Ellen, nothing more, nothing to regret." "Regret?" She chuckled. "Hardly. That was incredible. Thank you for helping me." She took a breath and continued. "Are you still turned on?" It was an invitation, pure and simple, one that I was happy to accept. I decided to continue in my rude little sex bomb mode. "Why don't you see for yourself? Come close and look. I'm practically dripping." I leaned back on my elbows and spread my legs in a truly wanton manner, using my index and middle finger to spread my pussy lips. My God, who was I? With a soft "Ohhh" escaping her lips, Mari-Ellen sat up and approached my open sex. I took a chance. "Would you touch me, Mari? Would you help me get there?" A momentary look of doubt on her face made me think I had crossed a taboo line but it was only momentary. She moved closer, her hand met my leg at the knee and moved upward. I moaned in encouragement and on she came, inch by inch, closing in until, there it was, fingers feeling me, softly rubbing in a circular motion, twirling my curly dark blonde pubes and then lower, lower into the wetness. And, oh was I wet, as Mari-Ellen became more confident in her actions, soon finding the way to dip two fingers into my throbbing vagina. I couldn't help it, I sobbed. "Oh - dear - God - don't stop!" I pleaded. She didn't. Instead, she stroked me, finding a rhythm with those thick, sturdy fingers - in and out, swirling - and it was heaven. So good that I lay back, hands on my breasts, softly tweaking my erect nipples, eyes closed while soaking in the pleasure. Oh, those fingers ... But then my eyes popped open. Wait a sec - that wasn't fingers alone. There was a soft, lapping activity going on, unmistakable. I lifted my head and looked down. Sure enough, sweet, chaste Mari-Ellen was busily lapping at my lady parts with a seemingly quite-educated tongue. What a sight. Her hands were now gripping my ass cheeks and her own bottom was up in the air as she worked on bended knees, sucking and licking and inhaling my juices fervently. Wow! It was all I needed. I ground myself into her, loving the way she was tickling my clit and mixing in long laps along my slit. I pinched my nipples harder and felt It coming. Unstoppable, overpowering, a cum for the ages. My moans were unchecked - I didn't care if they heard me on the Dutch side. "Ohhhh, Mariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!" I was just starting to come down when I felt her index finger deep in me and slowly, at a glacial pace really, making its way outward. I looked up just in time to see Mari-Ellen take said finger into her mouth and make the same slow move from the back of her throat to open air. This woman was a revelation. Breathing heavily, I rose to my elbows and just stared at her, shaking my head. She smiled ever so slightly and, in a voice right out of Fargo said, "Yeah ... I probably should of told you I was bi." All I could do was sit there, open mouthed. Finally, I rallied and responded, "Actions speak ... you know. My goodness, Mari-Ellen, that was incredible." "So, you're okay?" She sighed. "Whew ... I'm so glad. I'd have hated to ruin this nice new friendship we have. Emily. The truth is, I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you. You're so lovely and sweet ..." I interrupted her tribute by moving to her and kissing her on lips that tasted of me. It grew into a long, quite tender kiss that lasted for minutes. The type of kiss that usually serves as a prelude rather than a culminating activity but there it was. We lay on the bed for several more minutes and I took great joy in caressing her rounded belly and quite massive breasts as we chatted about our backgrounds in female relations. She was as shocked to hear my stories as I had been to find her tongue inside me. It was a case of mutual "Who would have guessed?" We eventually exited the bed, showered together (great fun, that) and straightened up the disheveled bed top. We then walked back down to the beach for lunch and were back, sitting at the pool, when the mariners returned from their adventure. They had had a blast and we were happy to listen to tales of grinding and tacking and all that stuff. We again went out to dinner with Ted and Mari-Ellen, this time in the French capital of Marigot, and made plans to eventually visit each other. Whether it was one of those vacation-friendship-invitations that never come off remained to be seen, but I knew some potential time alone with Mari-Ellen might just be the dangled carrot that would lead me to pursue the idea. For what it's worth, Mari-Ellen seemed extremely enthusiastic about the idea. In bed that night, Richard again interrupted his reading to ask me a question. "Well? So tell me, how was your day with Mari-Ellen?" The look on his face made it quite obvious that he was hoping for details of something salacious. I think I would have made something up if I had to, just to give my dear man a thrill or two. But, of course, that wasn't necessary. Making him swear to keep this private and not to breathe a word to Ted, I told all. By the end of my story, I was interrupting my narrative to apply kisses and licks to the penis that I held firmly in my right hand, a penis that was growing longer and thicker and redder and warmer with every detail. Really, what is it about men and lesbians? But, again ... I'm not a lesbian. Honest. I Just Don't Know . . . It was my chest that was now heaving as I slowly came down. Caroline was still kneeling at my side and her expression was one of satisfaction and joy. She had done her job, remarkably well, and seemed to be savoring the moment with great, peaceful satisfaction. I tried to talk, but words stuck in my throat. "Take your time, sweetie," Caroline said softly. "Just take your time and enjoy." And so I did. I lay there as she returned to her recliner. I watched as she used her fingers on her own cunt now. It took little time for her to cum and I watched with fascination as her body pulsated in spasm after spasm of release. I think we both nodded off briefly because it was suddenly almost 5:00. It was also 'another place'. The moment had passed and I felt exposed and . . . in the wrong place, somehow. "I really need to go," I said, failing to voice the 'thank you' that Caroline so richly deserved. I think she sensed my sudden shyness and cleverly answered, "Yes. You've come, now you should go." I grabbed my panties and bra, quickly put them on, and followed with my skirt and blouse. Caroline donned her robe. She asked, with some concern, "Are you okay to drive?" "Yes. I think so," I answered, realizing that drunk or sober, right or wrong, I really needed to leave. We stood up and walked to the deck door, through the kitchen, and reached the front foyer. "I . . .", I started, but no words followed. With sudden soberness, I just felt I had to leave. "I know," Caroline said. "We'll talk soon. Next meeting is on the third, isn't it?" "Yes," I replied. "I'll . . . I'll see you then." I opened the door and walked to my car. Looking back I saw Caroline standing there, watching me. "Thank you," I said and, on still shaky legs, got into my car and drove away. I barely remember driving - I'm just glad I didn't run anyone off the road. When I got home that day, I prepared dinner and my husband apparently sensed nothing out of the ordinary. We've made love a few times. It was good. And, yes, Caroline's face and Caroline's body flashed into my head several times as Richard was writhing over me. At the next board meeting, Caroline and I exchanged hellos, but nothing more. She smiled warmly, but every time I looked at her across the table, if her eyes met mine I hurriedly turned away. I just couldn't comfortably look at her or let her look at me. Yesterday, the phone rang. It was Margaret Evers, the president of the league. She said she needed a huge favor. One of two members scheduled to attend a charity conference in New York City had to cancel and could I take her place? It would require an overnight stay. "Yes, I think so," I answered. "My sister can help out with Julia (my daughter)." "Oh, thank you, my dear," answered Margaret. "You're a life saver!" "Who else is going?" I asked, even as I secretly hoped I knew the answer. "Caroline Smith. I know you probably don't know her that well, but she's very nice." "Yes," I said. "Yes, I know her." We talked a bit longer, Margaret filling me in on the details of the conference and the hotel arrangements. I half-listened as my mind raced at the thought of being alone with Caroline in the big city. I could barely hold the phone in my trembling hand. What in heaven's name was happening to me? I just don't know . . .