15 comments/ 127133 views/ 5 favorites Obvious, in Retrospect By: angstypleasure It was obvious, in retrospect, what was going to happen when I volunteered to go back to the beach house with Taylor for the beer. The look on my wife's face as I see that she is straddling John on the beach, her newly tanned breasts swaying over him, his cock slamming into her thrashing body again and again - when she looks back in shock, that isn't a surprise. But when she turns aside and keeps going, her mouth open and her head thrown back in a silent climax, because she can no more stop herself now than I could have stopped John from starting all this a few days ago - that's what makes me wonder if she'll ever really come back to me. After they calm down, she gets up and walks back toward the beach house, not bothering to cover herself at all now. Semen drips down her leg as she goes. She doesn't look back this time, and I don't know whether to follow her or not. I look down at John, and back at Taylor, who takes a beer out of the festive little cooler bag, opens it like there's nothing else to be doing at a time like this, and sucks some down. Her lips move over the neck of the bottle suggestively. She spills some, and it drips down her chin, between her glistening, naked breasts, and down her oily belly. A little seems to follow the cleft of her newly-shaved sex. She looks at me again and smiles, more bravely this time. She feeds me the beer bottle like it's my mother's nipple, putting her arm around my naked waist while she does it. I drink some down, choking a bit, and she pulls me down onto a towel just beside John, just beside where John had my wife. *** We met John and Taylor at a neighborhood association party a year ago. They were the couple that was a little smarter than most. They dethroned us as "the young couple," but we were happy to let them have the title. It was wearing thin, especially when the retired couples asked us when we would be having their surrogate grandchildren, and laughed. My wife, Penny, had gone off the pill two years earlier, the year I got the Information Systems job that let us afford the neighborhood. They dressed nicely, and talked easily. Taylor would put her hand on John's shoulder while he sipped beer with one hand stuck in his khakis, and the muscles in her upper arms and deltoids would flex. At these parties, he tended to wear golf shirts or camp shirts; she would wear halter tops, or tight black tees that made her look like a ballet dancer, except that her breasts were way too large for a dancer's. Penny and I talked about whether Taylor had implants; they seemed too big for her, but they were just too perfect to be implants. I finally got up the nerve to say that to Penny when we were discussing it in bed, but I reassured her, as I praised her own breasts with lips and tongue, that those breasts were perfect to me. We saw more of Taylor than we did John, especially when she ran around the big circular road that connected all the streets in the neighborhood. She always wore a singlet, a heavy athletic bra to restrain her breasts, and short running tights. Her lean legs twitched with every stride. Sometimes, when Penny and I were leaving the neighborhood, I would slow down for a moment and Penny would chat at her through the open window while she ran. I would glance over every few moments to make sure I wasn't going to hit Taylor or a parked car, and I alternated between looking at her bobbing breasts and her blonde ponytail. John traveled about seven days a month, and after those days when he was out of town, they often asked us over for an evening cookout. On one such evening, we sat in the darkness on their back porch, sitting opposite each other in huge porch swings. John told us about some storm damage that a client's beach house had sustained. "It's probably minor," John explained, but the client was worried about it. John thought that some prompt work on the house, even if it was just done with plywood and the blue tarps that were now dotting the Florida coast, would spare his client a lot of water damage later on. Unfortunately, the client was in the middle of his busy season and couldn't get away. The four of us could go down there, John and I could make the repairs, and we could make it the long vacation we never seemed to have time for. The house was on a stretch of private beach a few miles long, John went on to explain, and in all likelihood, the adjacent houses were empty, as they were owned by snowbirds who were back north to escape the hottest part of the summer. Those houses were further off the beach, and escaped damage. "It's great," Taylor broke in, smiling and nodding at Penny like it was all up to her, which in a way it was. I was convinced the minute John started talking; I had just trained an assistant enough to get to take a few evenings every now and then where I wasn't on call, and I hadn't been able to be more than an hour away from a computer and internet access for over three years. Penny smiled back at Taylor, I grinned at John, and we shook on it like we were two frat boys starting a bar together. It took some convincing to get my boss to let me off for three solid weeks, but since I had six weeks accrued, he couldn't do much, other than get me to concede that I would take my cell phone. I made my assistant, Pam, promise to call only if things were desperate, and she was happy to oblige. "Bring us back a baby, Chris," she teased, and my frowning at her only made her laugh harder. I had made the mistake of telling her that Penny and I wanted a baby during a buzzed evening at a hotel bar in Pasadena. We had gone there to install new software at the branch office. Pam had made me a not-so-veiled offer to let me practice on her that night, and my turning her down had only served to make the subject funnier to her every chance she got to bring it up. I finally grinned at her, just to get out of the office as quickly as possible, and told her we would try, which reduced her to helpless laughter. Penny's doctor actually had told us that a long vacation would help things. "Every other night like clockwork," he had said. "Your sperm count isn't the best, and probably would be better if you weren't so overworked. But," he stopped and grinned at Penny, then me. "There's nothing wrong with either of you - you've just got to get together more often." That Saturday morning, we both drove our pickup trucks, loaded with our luggage, groceries, beer, plywood, tarps, toolboxes, and chainsaws, the 150 miles to the secluded beach in northwest Florida. There was a town with a Wal-Mart and a hardware store fifteen miles from the house, John had explained, but he had a personal goal of not having to go anywhere at all once we arrived. The girls would cook and lay in the sun, and the boys would stretch a few day's work into three weeks, and we would forget the problems of our high-priced jobs for a while. The house wasn't in bad condition when we arrived. A quick tour through the house revealed that power was on, and the DirecTV was working. There were only a few windows broken and some possible roof damage, but no sign of serious water damage yet. The pool was also undamaged, except for a lot of debris in it. "They're going to be so happy," John said, "and we could get all the plywood up and the tarp over the roof in one afternoon if we put our minds to it." An inspection of the grounds revealed a bit more in the way of tree damage; several pines had been bent over by the wind. "Why don't we give him his money's worth - cut down all these trees and section them up?" I asked. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Okay, but no rain forecast for two days, so first things first. Let's get this pool cleaned up so we can go swimming! We can work on the house tomorrow." The girls went into the house and started to put things away. John and I took off our shirts, found the pool equipment, and got to it. I was hosing down the deck and straightening up the furniture while John skimmed leaves and sticks off the surface. We were about halfway through when the girls emerged in bikinis. John gave out a wolf whistle at them; I gave them admiring looks, which I was careful to direct mainly at Penny. John put the skimmer down, walked over, and took Penny's hand. He raised her arm, twirling her around like a dancing partner. "Wow, Penny! You look great! Chris and every other lecherous bum in the neighborhood gets to see Taylor in her running outfits, but I've never seen you like this!" Penny was blushing with the compliment, but John was already back skimming. "There's some stuff down there that I'm going to have to dive down and get before we start the pump. Where did you put my suit, hon? I don't want to get these shorts in that water. It's full of chlorine and probably some saltwater slopped over in it." Taylor looked up from the chaise lounge where she laid down. "They should be in our room, John." John walked back into the house and came back out a minute later. "I don't see them, babe." "Oh goodness. Okay, come on. I'll find them," Taylor said, getting up. We were alone on the pool deck, which I had about finished, and I was spraying the hose at Penny's legs every now and then. She gave me a mock-annoyed look and held her book up defensively. I came over. "Kiss me," she sighed. She tasted like red wine. I was trying to decide whether to put my hand on her breast when I heard another wolf whistle, this time from Taylor. "We can't leave you two alone, which is too bad, because I think we're going to have to go to Wal-Mart," she said. "I forgot John's trunks." "Nah," John said. "Nobody's going to Wal-Mart this trip." And suddenly John was stark naked, having pulled off his shorts and briefs. For a brief, stupid moment, I wondered when he had taken his shoes off, and realized he probably did it when he went in the house. "John!" Taylor mock-scolded as Penny and I stared at him. I'm fairly well-endowed; Penny has to be pretty relaxed and horny to take all of me, anyway. But John's cock hung, completely limp, six inches long or so. Far more than mine. He jumped into the pool and started to collect a few large limbs and leaves that had sunk to the bottom. Returning to the surface with a handful of trash, John looked at me. "Okay, off with the shorts! I see how you're goldbricking on that deck job, so get in here and help me clean out the bottom." "I'll go get my trunks on; we're not such sloppy packers," I joked, but John persisted. "I'm not gonna be the only naked guy at this house party!" he laughed. "Go on, Chris," Taylor coaxed. "Don't let John feel so shy and awkward! You can see how inhibited he is." I looked at Penny, who was looking at John, then me, in a perplexed way. "Come on, Penny, it's only fair," Taylor said. "You get to see mine; now I get to see yours, right?" "Well, since you put it that way," Penny laughed, and I suddenly realized the girls, or Penny at least, had had one glass of wine too many. Defeated, I took my shoes off first, then quickly stripped and jumped in the pool. The girls were laughing at my awkwardness, and annoyance, at first, but after a while I sort of got used to the idea. They went back to reading and talking, and we were done before we knew it. "Okay, so I suppose you ladies don't want to get your suits wet, so take them off and come on in," I said, after John had gotten out and turned on the pump. "Nah, I don't want my feminine bits burned," Taylor said. "Besides, it might be too much for you boys to take all at once." "Well, we're both naked," John said as Taylor and Penny climbed into the pool and into our arms. "What's the difference?" "You have to ask?" Penny called back to him, surprising me with her forwardness. "Taylor and I were talking. We both have brothers. Men's bodies aren't much to look at." "What was it Elaine said on 'Seinfeld'?" Taylor asked, rhetorically. "Oh yeah. Men's bodies are like a jeep." I started kissing Penny, and she was responding pretty well. I stole a look back at John, and he gave me a quick thumbs up sign before returning to a methodical browsing of every inch of Taylor's neck and shoulders. But it was all pretty tame at that point. We all swam around a bit; I didn't get too close to Taylor and Penny kept away from John, but otherwise we were getting more comfortable, other than my being horny as hell from rubbing up against Penny and the occasional look at Taylor, whose bikini was really having a hard time keeping her pendulous breasts under control. I couldn't help it; I stole a guilty look at John's cock to see how it looked now that Taylor had been doing the same thing to him that Penny had been doing to me. I almost regretted it; even with the distortion from the water and waves I could tell he was bigger than I was. Much bigger. Maybe I was a bit thicker, or maybe I was kidding myself about that, but he was almost certainly longer than I. He started to turn my direction and I had to look away. "Oh, gosh. We need to get dinner going. Come on guys, get out before you get burned somewhere you don't want to be burned," Taylor said. They got out and went back in the house. John and I got dressed and managed to get on ladders and get the tarp over the area of the roof that was missing tiles. This also covered the damaged windows, but John said we still needed to fit plywood to them in case another storm hit before his client could get a contractor down there. Light was fading, however, and that was a big project for another day or two. We got showered and dressed. Penny and I took separate showers in the little half-bath in our bedroom, but when I was taking my turn I could hear bumping and moaning coming from the shower next door. We had seen the huge bathroom, bath, and shower in the master bedroom, and Taylor had tried to give it to us, but Penny had insisted they take it. "We're guests once removed," she had said. I could visualize John and Taylor in there now; perhaps John was feeding his long cock into Taylor's pussy as her breasts rubbed against the cold tile or the shower door. I had seen her tan lines from her sports bra, singlet, and tights when she wore her swimsuit, and I could visualize her naked, or I could try. I wondered what her nipples looked like - were they big and loose, or small, dark, and tight? Did she trim her bush, or shave it? Or did she wax it? I started to masturbate, but remembered I needed to be saving the sperm for Penny. I got the shower over with and dried off. I came back into the bedroom, where Penny was dressing, and put my hands around her waist. "Got a minute?" I asked. "Not enough time for that, I'm afraid. I told Taylor I'd start dinner and give her and John some time. I'll make it up to you tonight, lover," she whispered in my ear, and sucked on my earlobe a moment. Dinner was great; we had salad and steaks. My horniness was diminished by food, wine, and the fact that everyone had their clothes back on. We all walked up and down the beach a while before turning in for the night. The bumping and moaning next door had started before we could get our clothes off and get in bed. It turned Penny on; she responded eagerly as I slowly inserted a finger into her. When it was slick with her juices, I moved the finger to her nipples and worked them up to a couple of points, kissing one while I tweaked the other with my finger and thumb. She moved me onto her; she had been having trouble coming in this position, but it was the best for conception. I was rock hard and my balls were tight up in my body; she guided me in and we settled into a rhythm. John and Taylor were doing a duet next door; his tenor groans were slowing me down, if anything, but Taylor's moans became shrill little screams; Penny laughed into my shoulder and we suddenly became very serious about our rutting. She opened her thighs even more and guided my hips with her hands; our rocking motion became faster and faster. I realized the house was silent when I groaned and came deep inside Penny. She shuddered with pleasure and lay very still as I got off of her, keeping her knees up for a few minutes before we got under the covers and slept. We all slept in, tired from the trip and the late night, but John and I got started on the windows before lunch. Where he had talked earlier about stretching the job out, he now seemed driven to finish up and get on with the vacation. He had worked his way through college doing construction, and all I needed to do was be the extra back and pair of hands as he took careful measurements, set up plywood on saw horses, and cut out exact sections. He spent a lot of time on the problem of how to nail up the plywood so it would be as weather-tight as possible and keep damage to the window sets to a minimum. We had a fabulous lunch - the girls stayed in their swimsuits, and served lunch out on the back patio. They were slathered in heavy sunscreen, as were John and I - the heavy, white greasy type. I joked that they were never going to even out their tans that way, and Taylor said "I'm easing into it. It's going to be a long vacation, and I don't want to get burned." The faint smell of coconut hovered around the ham sandwiches, chips, and cokes. I was just beginning to feel a little tired and lazy when John urged me back out to the far side of the house, where the window project was set up. "Afternoon is a perfect time for painting," he said. "Painting?" "Yep. We're gonna paint these plywood covers. My client is gonna get sidetracked and all this might be up for two months. If we don't paint them, they might not last." "H-okay," I said, and we broke out the painting supplies. We had been at it a couple of hours when John said he needed to go wash out a brush. He came back a couple of minutes later, a grin on his face and a bit of paint on his nose. "Chris, come out here; you've got to check this out." We walked out as far as the pool; given the curve of the beach, you couldn't see anything until you got to the far edge of the pool deck. John put his finger to his lips, and gestured for me to look over. Penny and Taylor were lying on towels, now wearing nothing but heavy coats of sunscreen. Penny was lying on her stomach, but I got my questions answered about Taylor's nipples (small and dark) and bush (neatly trimmed) before she opened her eyes, saw us, and started screaming. It was a while before we finished up the painting. First, we had to have a bit of a group discussion, once the girls shooed us away and put their suits back on. Taylor was laughing at John the whole time, but there was a serious undertone, especially when Penny said that she would personally drive to Wal-Mart and get John as many swimsuits as he needed if he thought that yesterday's skinny-dipping was intended to set any precedents about who was going to be peeking at whom under what circumstances. John hung his head as if in shame, but we could all see that he was mostly trying not to laugh. In the end, of course, no one went to Wal-Mart, and it was understood that the late afternoon swimming pool session was again going to feature John naked (because no one was going to stop him) and me naked (because John goaded me into it, and Penny didn't seem to object), and the girls wearing their suits, keeping their distance from each other's husbands. That night was supposed to be an "off" night for the baby making process, but I was keyed up by the sexual tension, especially since we could hear John and Taylor relieving theirs next door. "It's supposed to help you recover," Penny said. I had never understood, throughout this process, how waiting a night was supposed to help, but Penny believed everything the doctor told her. I finally managed to get to sleep, tired and frustrated. The following day, John and I were much more careful when we took a break and snuck out to the edge of the pool deck. Lying on our bellies like snipers, we watched them rub each other down with sunscreen. They had decided to go with a lighter oil with a lower SPF, and their reddened bodies glistened with it. Our conspiracy to watch them seemed strange to me, as each of us got to see a lot of our own wives naked, so presumably each was mainly interested in the other's wife. But, I thought, even I didn't get to see Penny naked in the broad daylight whenever I wanted. She was usually under the cover, or in our shower with the room fogged up, or in our bedroom with the lights dimmed. Mystery was good, but the bright light was good too, when your wife's body was as good as Penny's was. Obvious, in Retrospect Ch. 02 (a continuation of "It was Obvious, in Retrospect") * I guess I could have just said "No" when Taylor asked me if I was pregnant. We had gone shopping together and were at a trendy little coffee shop. We had already had the scene, two weeks ago - not much was said, but we all agreed that it was time to put on our clothes and go home. It seemed best to pretend nothing had ever happened. Until I said "No, not by your husband or mine," in response to Taylor's question. Taylor looked at me over her coffee cup and shot me a wry glance. "Meowww." She was wearing an electric blue tennis outfit, and still looking even more tan than usual. The tight top emphasized her curves, her perky tits and nipples, always half-erect, at least. Her long brown legs stretched into the metal chair beside her. "Sorry. Well, how about you?" "Oh, I'm still on the pill. We had talked about having a baby, but not just yet." The college-kid waiter began to hover again, pouring another eighth inch of coffee into our mugs as he tried to peer down my blouse. "So that's settled, I guess," I said over the lip of my coffee cup, staring into space. "Aren't we a couple of Stepford wives?" Taylor said. "What do you mean?" "You don't feel any emotion about all this?" "I do, but oddly enough, the main thing is I'm disappointed I'm not pregnant. We've been trying for over two years." Suddenly I was crying a little. I wiped away a tear with a napkin. "I'm surprised John didn't manage it," Taylor whispered, and laughed. "They called him 'Mr. Sperm' in his fraternity, because of his frequent trips to the sperm bank. They loved him over there." "You're kidding. Well, thank goodness. Chris would have been furious. Wouldn't you have been?" "Well, John's probably fathered about ten children by now, so - not per se. I mean, you know - I waived my right to be furious just a few minutes later." "Let's not talk about that any more," I said. "Alcohol, sun - it's a hell of a combination," she sighed. Was she thinking about having Chris pumping deep inside her? I hadn't seen it - I had been crying in our bedroom, both from the guilt and from how good it had felt to have a man go wild with me like John had. Chris hadn't fucked me like that in ages. But even with his guilty conscience and with me having to pry the details out of him, Chris ended up making it sound like sex with Taylor had been the hottest thing he had done in a long time. And I was off on the guilt trip again. When would I quit replaying it all? Our eyes met. "Let's not talk about that any more," I said, evenly, but I couldn't help laughing, and then neither could she. "I hate to admit it, but you were looking pretty good on top of poor old John when we came back. You looked like a cowgirl breaking a bronco." I blushed furiously and looked around to make sure no one heard. "Let's not talk about that anymore!" I hissed. "Oh come off it. We all ended up going a little too far, but no one needs to get busted up about it. It was just sex," she said into her coffee mug. "A little too far? How much farther could we have gone? You wanted to see me end up carrying John's baby? You want to drive by our house and see John's boy or girl playing in our yard?" I wasn't mad at this point, just amazed. "There's more to being a parent than being a sperm donor. Or even an egg donor, for that matter, but that's a bit more complicated. As I said, John's already 'fathered' several children," she said, making quote marks in the air and picking up her coffee mug again in a sort of triumph. "They made him stop because of some silly rule about how many times his sperm could be actually used for a fertilization. Seems there's no stopping it," she giggled, taking a sip. "Just as well he retired from stud service," I said. "No way Chris would pay for in-vitro or the like. He's obsessed with two things along those lines; getting our house paid down, and being the actual father of his child. We started talking adoption, and he didn't want to talk about it. Same two reasons." "The cost of two beers is probably all it would take for John." "Let's not go there again. You're going to go home tonight and ask John to come by and do a repeat performance?" "Of course not. What would be the fun in that? But I bet you could seduce him no trouble. You have a great body, and the man's always ready to go. Hell, I could use the break." I put down my cup and stared at her. "You're serious." "Well, Chris is starting to travel more, now that he's got help at the main office, isn't he? Funny how that didn't work out exactly as planned. So, yeah, I'll invite you over some nights Chris is out. Two conditions: you don't tell him what we're up to in advance, and I get to be in on it, somehow, even if it's just watching." "Sorry, I'm not going to cheat on Chris again." "What he doesn't know can't hurt him. Doesn't he want a baby?" "Yeah, his." "Eh. He and John look enough alike. Kids don't look that much like their parents anyway. No one would ever know." "No one will ever know, because I'm not doing it." "So you wouldn't come over some night for us to cook out for you? I'm hurt," Taylor said, putting on the pout like the cheerleader she used to be. She was good. I knew what she was up to now, and still I almost believed her. Wanted to believe her. "To cook out, sure. But that's it." "We won't do anything you don't want to do," she laughed, flexing her pecs in that cute little way she has that makes her titties bounce, like she doesn't know she's doing it. The waiter appeared again, right on cue, which made me laugh along with her. Chris had to go on an overnight trip later that week. I didn't tell Taylor. It was just one night, so there was no reason for her or John to notice. I'd been fantasizing about her suggestion, including one memorable ride on my biggest dildo (the one I kept tucked away behind some old panties, separate for the ones I used to let Chris diddle me with when we were feeling kinky, back before sex was all about making a baby), hunched over it, almost in tears trying to fit it all in me. It was an "off night," and Chris was watching late night television, too frazzled from his day to sleep. But the phone rang the morning Chris left. "Hey, John and I are expecting you tonight." "How did you know?" "We were supposed to know because you were supposed to tell us, but John was talking to him and found out. Can you come?" "Just for a cookout, right?" "Sure," she giggled. "What else were you expecting?" When I showered and got dressed that afternoon, I picked a short, but demure wraparound skirt and sleeveless top. It wasn't until I put it on that I realized how hot I looked in it. My skin was still tanned from the trip, and I'd been losing weight from fretting about what had happened. I tried on heels, and sandals, and went back and forth. The heels were just a bit too dressy, but what the hell. I got there before John did, and Taylor looked me over appreciatively. "Give me a chance, girl! I said you could borrow him, not steal him from me!" "I didn't put this on for him." "Uh-huh. Listen. Don't come on to him. At some point, I'll start things off by letting him catch us doing some kissing and stuff. That drives him wild, but he won't admit it. You ever do any girl-girl action? He knows I swung that way a little in college..." By then I was wanting to run from her. It seemed surreal, but I turned away and looked stupidly back at her front door, trying to decide to open it. It had been Taylor's tanning-oil applications on the beach that had put me over the edge, making me want, stupidly, to see Chris put oil on Taylor. That started it all... she came up behind me and put her arm around my waist. She smelled like bath oils, like a garden. She said into my ear. "Nothing too heavy. But he'll take it from there. You'll see." I was still thinking about leaving, about telling her this had been a mistake, when the door opened. Taylor stepped away from me as it did. Just two suburban wives, waiting to greet a husband. "Hi, John," Taylor said, greeting him with a hug and kiss. "Look who's here!" "Hi!" John said, putting a hand on my elbow and kissing my cheek. "Where's Chris?" "He went out of town." "He's becoming as big of a roadie as I am. Would you like to stay for dinner?" "Yes, please do," Taylor said. "We bought a bunch of steaks this weekend." "Chris will hate that he missed those," John said, looking me over, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Not if we don't tell him," I said, and they both laughed. Everything seemed a little more normal now. Maybe we could just have dinner and be friends again. John headed to the back to shower and change, and we went into the kitchen to start dinner. Taylor opened some Merlot, poured three glasses, and gave me one. "Let it breathe a little before you start slugging it down," she said with a smile. We put together a salad and I put it on three place settings on their patio table, checking myself before I set up a fourth. She was in the kitchen, getting the steaks ready. She went out and started the grill; I was sipping the wine and looking out at their wooded back yard. "Nice, huh? Let's sit on the couch." She picked up the two glasses of wine and steered me back inside. She smelled a bit more like food now, the herbal elements mixing with garlic and a little sweat. We set our wine glasses down on the coffee table and she gently pushed me onto the leather couch. "I'm not sure," I began, as she opened two buttons on my blouse. "What a sexy bra. You're sure all right. Shhh," she said, closing my lips with hers as she reached in and ran a hand over one of my cups. I could feel it through the thin material. I took her hand, as if to move it away, but succeeded only in moving it back and forth over a nipple, which hardened to a point. I looked down, breaking the kiss, and sure enough they were showing now. "Now look what you've done," I laughed. I was beginning to feel the wine. "I'm looking," she said, and kissed down into the cleft that my opened blouse was exposing. She leaned over me, forcing me back down on the pillows. My skirt was riding up, and I tried to adjust it. As I did so, she sat up. "Oh, hi John. Ready to start the steaks?" John was standing in the doorway, now wearing a camp shirt and khaki shorts. "Sure," he said nonchalantly, but then he came around and took the glass of wine Taylor was offering. I wondered how long he had been there. Long enough. I tried to get up nonchalantly and adjust my clothes. I reached for my blouse button, and managed to get the lower of the two buttons done without being too obvious. My skirt came back down when I stood up, but I could feel a new coolness from my dampening panties. I downed some more wine, and John offered to go get me some more. When he went to the kitchen, I reached for the next blouse button, but Taylor took my hand away. "That's fine. A little cleavage, not too obvious," she whispered in my ear. I started to button it anyway, but then John was back with the wine. I thanked him as he poured. "To great friends, good wine, and fine meat," Taylor giggled. John shot her a look as we clinked glasses and drank. Too much wine before dinner. Far too much. Taylor kept things on a low simmer while John grilled the steaks, starting rice on a boil, cutting up vegetables with me for a quick stir-fry, touching my hips as she went to the refrigerator for some ranch dressing and baby carrots, a cold hand on mine when she took whacked-up cauliflower from me. "Here," she said, putting a tiny, pre-peeled carrot in my mouth which she had dipped in dressing. The little rounded tip was slick with it. I tasted garlic. "Get some food in you. You don't want to fall asleep later." John emerged from the patio. "Steaks are ready. How's everything else?" "Just a minute, hon," Taylor said. The domestic goddess. She fed him a carrot, as she had me, but with her arm securely around his waist. "Okay, Penny, grab the rice and I'll bring the veggies." We ate on the patio as the sun came down. John asked me where Chris went. I said I thought it was New Orleans this time. He made some jokes about Chris being loose in the big city. Taylor jabbed him in the ribs and asked him how his day had gone. He talked about work; he seemed to be avoiding talk about one particular client, and I guessed it was the client whose house we stayed in. I took it easy on the wine, and thought that maybe, after all, I would get out of there after dinner, virtue intact, and go home to a date with the big dildo. We moved back into the living room after dinner. I sat in a chair by the couch, where John and Taylor were nestling in. John had started some jazz on the sound system. "Sit over here," Taylor beckoned, then got up and dragged me over, sitting me down on the other side of John. It was a bit of a tight fit, and Taylor nestled in closer to John and began to make out with him. I could feel John's warmth, and I was already too hot. "I need to go," I said, and realized that I didn't sound like I meant it. Because I didn't. "John, we're being rude to our guest. Do you want to watch us, Penny?" They were both looking at me. I opened my mouth, but it just hung open. Penny leaned over and sucked on my lower lip. "I could get used to this," John said, and we became a tangle of arms and legs on the couch. John brought me to my feet, and we went down the hallway to the bed, which was already turned down. I leaned over to take my shoes off, and by the time I turned around John and Taylor were well on their way to being entirely naked. Taylor was down to a bra and panties, and John was wearing a pair of print boxers. They went back to it, hands all over each other. I ended up with Taylor between me and John, and they were too wrapped up in each other to notice me. I wanted to touch myself, to relieve some pressure, but the skirt was in the way. I took it off, and lay there on my back, one hand absently stroking Taylor's back, one hand down in my panties, slowly rubbing my clit. Taylor rolled over and turned my way. "Let me help you," she said, and reached into my panties. I reached into my blouse and bra and started rubbing a nipple, making it slick with my own juices. I felt my panties rolling down, and off, lost track of where they were. My legs were spreading wider and wider to make room for Taylor's hand. She had a couple of fingers in me now, and a thumb on my clit. She knew right where to put it. Ask the girl who owns one. I reached back, trying to return the favor, and found that her bra was off. By turning my head a bit, I could reach a nipple with my mouth, and I began to suck. Some long-forgotten college experiences of my own came flooding back, especially when she began to moan. I ended up underneath Taylor. Her pussy was arched over my face, and we were sucking each other's clits. Her nipples stroked along my hips. I thought I was going to come that way, and perhaps that would be it for the night. Maybe this wasn't quite cheating. It sure wasn't going to get me pregnant. I had lost track of John, until I saw his erect dick, huge from this angle, start to penetrate Taylor's dripping pussy. This pushed out her clitoris, making it even easier for me to get at it and lick it, and nibble on it gently. She began to thrash, and I angled back to start licking on John's balls, which were shaved and smelled clean and wonderful. I wanted to make him hotter and maybe slow her down a little, but they were both well beyond the point of no return. She lost all track of what she was doing to my own clit as she surrendered to her own bliss. When her orgasm shuddered to a halt, she climbed off. I figured John had come as well, but it was still rock hard; he angled it down toward my mouth. I realized they were naked and I was still wearing my blouse and bra. I started to suck his dick, which tasted like Taylor. I wanted to get out of the blouse and bra, and it was frustrating me, because they both had me pressed down, working on me - I lost track of who was doing what to whom, although I realized at one point that he had moved down, and Taylor was really just off to the side now. And finally Taylor took my blouse and bra off, and I was as naked as they were. That's when I felt what could only be John's cock at the entrance to my pussy, pushing gently at it. I squirmed away, half-hoping that maybe one of them would get me off another way and maybe I wouldn't feel like such a cheat, half-hoping he would pin me down already and fuck me. Which is what he did, in a manner of speaking. But it was so big. That time on the beach, I just sort of impaled myself on him, and it hurt like hell for a moment before the pleasure started flooding in. This time he was working it slowly in, and I was fighting it, then relaxing - for a moment I thought I was going to keep what was left of my virtue intact, but then it finally started making its way in, stretching my pussy and filling it like it hadn't been filled since - that one time, and even then, he wasn't as long and hard as he was now. He just couldn't have been. I finally accepted the fact that he was going to fuck me, and probably make me pregnant - if not this time, then the inevitable next time, or the next. About then, he started sliding it in and out, in and out, slowly at first. Soon he was bottoming out in me, brushing my cervix. I heard animal sounds that I realized were coming from me; Taylor leaned over and began to suck on one nipple and twist the other one in her fingers. Then she rubbed my breasts, and swung her leg over my face. I began to suck on her clit again, drinking in her juices, and began a wave of orgasms that were still going when John began to come, spilling up in my insides, wave after wave. Taylor started coming again just as we were slowing down, and I put my hands on her hips to steady her. We got dressed after that. I felt a little awkward, not to mention sore, and I needed to get home in case Chris called. A few days later, Chris was in town, but working a bit late. Taylor called to see if I wanted to go running with her and John. They ran over to our house, which is only a few blocks away from theirs, and we did the loop of the neighborhood. I'd only started running since the trip; Taylor got me interested in it. My running outfit wasn't as daring as hers, but the shorts were short and my legs were still tan. We started off at an easy pace. Taylor started going faster and got away from me and John. We did another mile after that, and as we neared my house John asked if he could get some water before continuing back to his house. We were standing in the kitchen, guzzling cold water, when he said "I've saved it up for you for four days now." "What do you mean, John?" I asked, knowing full well what he meant. My heart was already pounding. "I haven't gotten off for four days," he said, taking me by the hand to the old leather couch in the TV room next to the kitchen. He was bending me over the back of it, pulling my sweaty shorts down. The leather was cold on my clit. He pulled my arm behind my back, gently but firmly. "Lots of sperm here. Do you want it?" "Oh, yeah. Please don't hurt me," I moaned as he began to root around for my pussy. I could feel sweat trickling down my legs - mine and his. The head of his penis began to slide into me, and I held still, willing him to go further. We didn't have much time. Chris would be home any minute. I could tell John wasn't going to take long to come. It felt fantastic, but I couldn't quite make it up the hill. "Play with my tits," I begged. He slowed down his thrusting and reached under my top, rubbing rough fingers on my nipples. At first it was the same problem as before. I wasn't quite ready, I couldn't relax, and his invading cock was hurting me. And then we found a rhythm. I started thrusting my pussy back up to him, and he was stretching me in places I had never been stretched before. His balls were slapping my clit, and he was pounding my cervix - it hurt like hell, and I was screaming for him to stop, but he was relentless, and my screams started turning into animal moans. Some faraway part of my mind worried about the neighbors hearing, but I was too far gone to care. Obvious, in Retrospect Ch. 02 I was about to black out when we both came. My first rational thought, as I came down from waves and waves of pleasure, was that I would always be faking it with my husband from now on, at least at some level. "Sorry," John was saying, "I couldn't stop myself. Your pussy is so fucking tight. I love it." He was stroking my ass, and I was flushing with the compliment. His gentle touch felt more illicit than the rough fucking he just gave me. He broke the mood by slapping me on the ass as he pulled out. He threw me a towel from the kitchen on his way out. The next time Chris went out of town, I called Taylor right away. I was in a trance as we ate dinner at their house; I had been daydreaming about laying on top of Taylor, sucking on her tits while John slowly filled me up and then started pounding me from behind. But as I was helping Taylor load the dishwasher, she said "Mom called just before you got here. She's not feeling well and wants me to come over. She lives about an hour away, so I'd better get going. Enjoyed it..." she said, and I realized she was expecting me to leave. And then John was with us, and they both pecked me on the cheek as I made my way to the car, barely getting out of their driveway before bursting into tears. An hour later, I was lying naked in my own bed, reading a trashy book with my big dildo under my arm, trying to get it to warm up. The doorbell rang. I put on a robe and answered the door. It was John. I instinctively looked out to the driveway - no car for the neighbors to see. "Don't worry, I walked." I led him up to the bedroom. "Yeah, you're a little sweaty. Would you like a shower?" "That would be great," he said. Soon we were both naked and soaping each other up under the warm water. I had my back to him and he was playing with my ass, when suddenly he turned me around and we started kissing. This felt dirtier than anything we had done before. I started stroking his penis, which was only half-erect. "Taylor wanted me to do her before she left," he said, a little sheepishly. "But I've got some left." "What if she calls your house while you're over here?" I asked. "Transferred the calls to my cell phone. But she won't call until she gets to her mothers, if that's even where she's going." "Why didn't I think of that?" I said, kneeling down to begin what I hoped would be a blow job to raise the dead. "Because you're not a serial cheater like me," he said, already beginning to moan. "I'm a filthy cheater, all right." "It's about getting pregnant. Once you do, it'll be all about the baby and neither Chris nor I will get any for a year. I know your type," he laughed. The sound turned into a gasp as I tugged his balls. Not too hard, just enough. We got out of the shower and dried off. I led him to my bed. Our bed. He noticed the dildo, picked it up, and laughed. "I can't compete with that!" "You're the real thing," I moaned as he got down between my legs and began to suck my clit. Than he began to fuck me with his tongue. I spread my legs and pressed his head down until he was gasping for air. He moved around and straddled me in a 69. "Will you give me a titty-fuck? I promise not to come until I'm deep in you." "Of course," I said, pushing my breasts together and making a warm tunnel for him to rut in while he sucked on me. "But isn't Taylor better equipped for that?" "Yours are firmer. And they're different. I love different," he moaned. I felt his arm move around the bed, as if looking for something, and then I felt the tip of my dildo entering me. "Oww! That's cold!" I cried, but in a moment it began to feel great, and my first orgasm of the evening began to gather steam. "You think Taylor didn't really go to her mother's?" I asked, when I had pushed John off and we were cuddling side by side under the covers, me slowly stroking his cock while we talked. "I don't know." "Is she mad? Did she find out about that time you practically raped me after we went running?" "Yeah, I told her. She acted like it made her hot, but I don't know. I'm sure we'll have a threesome again. Sometimes I like to not have her stage-directing me." "I'll be honest; it made me hot." "Are you disappointed it's just me tonight?" I thought about it. "No," I said quietly. "Anyway, women are supposed to like someone directing them. They like being submissive; it turns them on. They're hard-wired for it." "Oh?" I said, reminding him that I had his dick in my hands. "I'm just kidding," he laughed. And I was straddling him, like I did the first time on the beach. It wasn't in me yet; I was sliding over it. I sat up and reached for a hairband, and John stroked my breasts while my arms were in the air, putting my hair back in a ponytail. "Sure you are. Well, lie back. I need to be in control of this big thing for a change." And with that I squirmed around until the tip was just inside. My hands were on his chest, like that first time, and he was gripping my wrists as a peaceful look came over his face. Little by little, I let him inside, and bent down to start kissing him. My tongue was in his mouth as his penis invaded my vagina, slowly, smoothly, wetly. I was relaxed and open now, stretched out from the dildo and ready for a nice slow comfortable fuck. He put his hands on my hips, like we were two teenagers at the prom and we were doing a slow dance and I was just a little too tall for him. He started to suck my tits, and the pleasure started to come pouring in again. This time, I wasn't climbing the hill very fast at all, but I was enjoying every minute of it. I don't know how long we went at it like that; eventually I could tell he wanted to go faster and harder, but I kept him pinned down as I gradually picked up the pace. When I felt his balls slapping against me, I realized I had him all the way in, and suddenly I was overwhelmed, like my mind couldn't accept it. My eyes rolled back in my head and I started screaming. When I calmed down, I realized he still hadn't come. "Okay, lover, your turn. I've had my fun; I'm ready. Fuck me as hard and fast as you like," I said in his ear as he flipped us over. He was in the saddle now, and he pushed my knees up against my chest. Suddenly he withdrew and reached for a tube of lubricant I had on the bedside table. "What? Oh no, you're too big for that," I complained as he began to lube my anus with his greasy fingers. "Besides, that's not going to get me pregnant," I whined. Truthfully, the idea was beginning to excite me. "Taylor got most of the sperm tonight. You just said I could fuck you as hard and fast as I liked." "You also promised you wouldn't come until..." I remembered what he said. "... I was deep inside you. Well..." he began to push into me. "Oh my godddd," I moaned, clutching the sheets with my hands. The dutiful housewife in me hoped I could get any stains out of the sheets before Chris came home tomorrow, but the wanton slut in me began to stroke my clit and stick fingers in my pussy. It hurt like hell, but somehow I wanted to keep playing with myself, to take my mind off the pain, and suddenly I was flying over the hill, but still not coming. And then he pushed my fingers aside with the dildo, suddenly in my pussy up to the hilt with it, maybe halfway there with his cock in my ass. "Ahhhh! You're going to tear me in two!" I begged. "Sssssh. Relax. I won't hurt you." And I was riding the wave, beyond pleasure or pain. I came to, and he was sucking a nipple. I realized both holes were still full, but he was slowly stroking in and out. "Have you come yet, lover?" I asked, suddenly relaxed, sweaty, one hand on my chest. "No," he groaned. "Do it for me. Come in my ass," I commanded, and he grimaced, in his own trance that signaled the end. He pulled the dildo out, then himself, and he lay across me like a sleepy boy. Like a baby, I thought. "You don't mind some direction," I teased. to be continued(?) Obvious, in Retrospect Ch. 03 You probably need to read the previous two chapters. Time-wise, this chapter begins just after chapter 2. If you're just looking for the sex part, scroll a bit - you'll get there! If you don't like illicit behavior in your erotic fantasies, find another story, please. :-) * I was doing yard work on a Saturday when Taylor drove by. She smiled and waved at me, and when I waved back she pulled to the curb and got out. She was wearing shorts and a red top - it was clinging to her breasts and firm abs. "Hey, Chris, what'cha doing?" she said, casually. "Just - about to get started trimming the hedges," I said, nervously. "We haven't seen much of you lately." "Penny hasn't seen as much of me as she used to. The job has me going out of town a lot." "We miss seeing you." "You and John both?" "Look, Chris, I thought we got all this worked out," she said, her pretty smile fading into an equally appealing sad look. "We did. Sorry," I said, putting down a hedge trimmer. "Where are you going this afternoon?" "I overslept so I'm heading off for a late lunch. Want to come with me?" "Better get started on this before Penny gets back from shopping." "Penny won't be back for two or three hours. You'll be starving before she gets back. Come on, live a little." I caught a whiff of her perfume in the wind. "Well, okay." I put down the hedge trimmer and took off the leather gloves. "Is John still in Tallahassee?" "Yep. He gets back Tuesday, with any luck. Sucks to be gone over the weekend, but it's a big job, and it's overdue." We were in a little Japanese lunch place not far from the neighborhood. I was trying to look casual, and trying not to stare too much at Taylor's chest. Something about the way she sat made that difficult, and the top wasn't helping. Our hands brushed when we both went for a sauce bowl about the same time, and she giggled as she smoothly withdrew her hand. "Of course, he'll be all frustrated when he gets back, and that's a good thing." "Excuse me? I guess I had a blank look on my face - she started laughing. "Pent-up demand, if you will. Doesn't take long with him. Sorry, too much information?" she said as she ladled some kind of spicy sauce on her food and licked her fingers. "Say, Chris, I've got to admit it wasn't sheer coincidence I drove by today. I'm glad you could come out with me. I wanted to make sure you were really all right. I'm still a bit worried about Penny." "Why? I mean, I know what you're talking about, but what do you mean?" "I think she still feels guilty about what she's - done. Me and John have done some stuff before - we didn't plan all that, but it wasn't that big a deal to us. But you two seemed really innocent. I'm sorry if it put a strain on things." Suddenly a memory I'd been trying not to think about came back - Taylor's pendulous breasts swinging freely as she walked around mostly naked that weekend; how it all ended up with Penny on top of John and, a minute later, me on top of Taylor. "It wasn't your fault. It just brought something out that apparently Penny and I both wanted and didn't want to admit. I guess everyone wants what we're not supposed to have. It's human nature," I concluded, bringing some rice and shrimp to my mouth to avoid looking at Taylor. "I guess so," Taylor said, exhaling. We tried to make small talk as we headed back in her car. "Could you take a look at my gate latch? John hasn't been able to get to it, and it's sticking every time I head back to the pool." The sun was getting a little lower, but the late summer heat was still high. I looked at the latch; the only problem was the gate needed a simple adjustment in the way it was hung. I found one of John's screwdrivers and fixed it. "Perfect! Thanks, Chris. Do you have time to sit by the pool a minute?" "I guess so. I'll call Penny and check." I called Penny and asked how her shopping was coming. I didn't say where I was, and it didn't come up in the conversation. But it was obvious Penny was still going to be gone a while. She sounded kind of out of breath. When I got off the phone, Taylor was walking back out of the house with a couple of beers. Having taken off her top, she was down to a running bra and her shorts. "Sorry, it's hot out here. Cheers," she said, clinking beer bottles with me. We sat down in pool chairs next to each other. "Not to keep beating this dead horse, but I've stayed in touch with Penny. I think we both want everyone to stay friendly. You guys are both gone a lot. We need an extra husband around sometimes," she giggled. "Sorry, I guess that came out wrong. Thanks for fixing the gate." Her nipples were hardening a bit; I tried to keep my eyes away from them. "Aren't you hot in those jeans? Do you want to go in for a swim? John has some trunks you could probably get into." A few minutes later, we were in the pool - I put on a pair of white trunks that Taylor gave me, and she reappeared wearing a one-piece black suit - it covered a lot, but pushed up her breasts magnificently. We swam around a bit, and wound up sitting next to each other on the pool steps, drinking what was left of our beer, which had gotten a little flat and hot. "Hang on," she said, and I saw a vision of flat lycra-clad stomach and tanned bare thighs, shedding water as she got out of the pool and came back with more beer. As we clinked glasses again I looked down at her cleavage; her breasts with droplets of water beading up and sliding down that marvelous valley. "It's okay to look," she laughed lightly. "That obvious? Sorry." "It's okay. I guess they're my best asset." "I don't know about that," I said, trying to deflect the tension but getting myself swatted. She was laughing. "Oh, really?" "You - actually I guess I like your hair the best. When you're dressed up, that is." "You're digging yourself a pretty deep hole, there, friend. No, really. Some girls give men a hard time for looking. But it's like a dog's nose being wet," she said, touching my nose for emphasis. "I guess that's how we got in trouble the last time." "But it was so much fun." She started kissing me; I resisted, but not very well. Her breasts brushed against my chest, and my hands began roaming all over her bare back. Her hands, meanwhile, ventured lower. "Oops, did I do that?" she said, coyly, as she fondled my growing erection through the swimsuit. She turned around and stood in front of me in the water. "I'm sorry. Let me kiss it and make it better." And with that she pulled my (or rather, John's) trunks down and began to lick all around my cock while she cupped my balls in her hand. It felt like heaven, of course, but the rawness of it all brought me back to reality. I pushed her away, and about the time I had the trunks back up she had half-way peeled out of her swimsuit, revealing those breasts in all their gravity-defying glory. The merest beginnings of tan lines, which only brought out their curves, and the small, dark nipples, hardened to points. I had to touch them. I pulled her to me, one hand on the small of her back and one palming a breast and nipple. "We've got to stop this," I croaked. "Penny - " " - isn't shopping. And John's not out of town," Taylor said, drawing me back in and dragging her breasts across my chest. I was half in a trance. "What are you saying?" "Your wife. My husband. In your bed." "How?" "That was the plan. When we went to lunch. I told John I'd provide a diversion. Besides, it's only fair." "We were trying to get her pregnant." "This will double her chances. At least. Meanwhile, or so I've gathered, sex with her has become about as much fun as a dry hump." By now Taylor had the trunks back down around my knees. "When's the last time you got one of these?" she asked, just before gathering my cock into her mouth. I had to admit she had a point, and I was losing the moral high ground while the blood flowed into my shaft. So I leaned back and just let her blow me, and it was incredible. I felt something warm and smooth against my balls, and realized she had started to titty-fuck me while licking the tip. The sight of it sent me over the edge, and I came, shooting strands of semen in her face. "How are you enjoying lunch so far?" she asked, leaning in to kiss me, smearing my own semen on my chin. "I guess I can't complain," I said, trying not to think of how John might be stretching Penny out right now, and failing at that too. "except for wondering if Penny will still feel the same way about me. I caught sight of John, you know - he's huge." "Men," Taylor said, stepping out of the rest of her swimsuit. "Relax a little while, then we'll see if John's stretched me all out of shape." Her idea of relaxation was to back up to me and rub her bare, wet, warm buttocks on my cock, and before long it was back at attention. She had left a towel by the side of the pool deck, and she pulled it over to rest her elbows and chest on it, pointing her ass skyward and wiggling it at me. I got up and rubbed my cock on the cleft between her legs while I massaged her buttocks with my hands. "Oh, that feels fantastic," she sighed. "Which hole do you want?" Her little tight puckered anus was tempting, but the slit below that was turning red, and shiny. I had to know how tight it was after John reamed it whenever he wanted. I pressed the head of my cock against her opening - she felt like a frightened virgin. I put my hand on the small of her back and felt her trembling. I leaned down and whispered in her ear "You're putting me on." "Do you want to analyze me, or fuck me?" she said with a smile. That was an easy decision. I raised back up and gripped her hips, inserting myself between her pussy lips. I'd come very quickly the last time I was here; it had been a release of tension that had built all week. This time I was wrestling with this temptation, almost literally with the way she was resisting my cock as it slid in an inch at a time. I was stroking the tip in and out, trying to force her back, but her toned legs kept pushing me away. The idea of John taking my wife like he had was both turning me on and making me angry. "John had Penny sort of like this once," she said, as if she was reading my mind. "Oh?" "Not exactly. He was nailing her on the back of that leather couch in the family room. He bent her over like this. He took her so hard and fast that she said it felt like a baseball bat... uuh, you're hurting me." "Sorry." "It's not you, it's the concrete. Come over here," she said, pulling herself out of the pool and grabbing my hand. She was soon on all fours on the chaise lounge, and I was again trying to penetrate her tight hole fully. She started moaning, and I began to look around for nosy neighbors. None that I could see, but the idea that someone could be looking out from second story bedroom windows occurred to me. "Do you have any nosy neighbors?" I grunted. "Just one dirty old man two doors down," she sighed. "He won't tell anyone. What's he going to say? John and I fuck out here sometimes." She had been resisting my thrusts all this time, pulling forward to disrupt my rhythm, but now she began to push back on me, burying me up to the hilt. I gripped her hips and she put a hand up between her legs, frigging herself and sometimes reaching back to stroke my balls. After a while of this she turned onto her back. I put my cock back in her, deep, and pinned her down hard. Now we went at it like animals; I was trying to give it to her as hard as John had been giving it to Penny. She began to shriek and dig nails into my back. I was gasping like the first time when I started to come. I pulled out so I could spurt on her belly and tits. "So has John stretched me out too badly?" she whispered, drawing me down to her. I lay on top of her in a sticky embrace. "No." "You've got to start giving it to her like that. Well, you'd better get cleaned up and go. Don't want Penny to get suspicious." "She doesn't know?" "John doesn't either, exactly. Oh, I told him if he took too long you might get a blow job, but I kept the details vague. Want to tell them?" "I think it's better this way." "It's going to be fun playing with you." Obvious, in Retrospect Or Taylor's. As John and I lay there, we compared notes, like we were sizing up two women in a singles bar. "Hey, man, your wife's got a nice rack," John whispered. "Don't quote me, but - you're kidding. Taylor's are huge. You've got to level with me - are they real?" "Yep. She's talked about getting them reduced. She says they hurt when she runs sometimes." "Can you tell her not to, for me?" John laughed. "I tell her every night. I like to - ah, man, I can't talk about that. Now, since we're getting personal, your wife shaves down there?" "Yeah. I don't understand it myself. She's a bit of a prude about some things, but she got into wearing thongs, at least when she dresses up, and then one day she decides to shave it all off. She keeps talking about waxing it, but hasn't gotten up the nerve." "Well, if you don't mind - how is it?" "Great the first day. Sometimes if it gets away from her - ouch." John laughed quietly, but we decided to sneak away after that before they heard us. We had a few beers after we finished the work, and that afternoon, John emerged from the house naked as the day he was born. He even waved his cock briefly at Penny just before getting in the pool. Penny laughed; she untied her top and lay face down on the chaise lounge. She asked me to come rub oil on her. I reluctantly got out of the pool and came over to her, trying to arrange myself so that my cock wasn't too much on display to John and Taylor. I also became aware of a growing problem when I rubbed oil on her back and my penis tended to slide along her leg. I stayed half-hard the whole time we were at the pool anyway; this was murder. I was afraid I was going to come by the time I got her back and legs covered and could get back in the pool. I was conscious of it being at a near-perfect 90 degree angle to my body as I walked back. I tried to hide it from Taylor but I got another wolf whistle from her. After a few minutes went by, John announced that he had to pee. Penny surprised me by asking "What's stopping you?" but John said he had just gotten the pH balance right and he was going to use the bathroom, or at least walk around the house. When he left, Taylor got out of the pool and got on the chaise lounge next to Penny, undoing her top and lying on her stomach. "Penny, can you put some oil on me?" "I'm afraid John will come back and I'll have my top off. Chris, can you put some oil on Taylor?" I tried to follow the logic of that, but my ability to reason was slipping fast. I got out of the pool and went to put my shorts on "Don't be a ninny. She can't see you anyway; she's face down." I began to pour the oil into my hands and tried to rub it on Taylor without dragging my cock on her leg. She might be offended, and worse, I might explode on her, wasting precious sperm on her toned, oiled calf. "Oh, that's great, Chris," she purred, and put a hand on my leg as she shifted, squirming into a better position on the chaise lounge. "Hey, what are you doing to my wife?" John called out as he returned. "Come on honey, I can't leave you alone for a minute." Taylor called him a bastard and asked me to make sure her legs were coated well up to the bikini bottoms, which were, at least, somewhat conservatively cut. That night I took Penny so hard and fast she didn't really come before I finished, but she still stroked me happily as I withdrew, leaving an oozing trail of semen that she smeared around on her slit. "Thank you, lover," she purred. "Did Taylor and I get you all excited today?" "Yeah," I admitted, laying down beside her. "You two sneaked up and watched us again, didn't you?" "Well..." I stalled. "It's all right," she said, her absent-minded smearing turning into a rhythmic stroking of her clitoris. "Did you like what you saw?" "You're both beautiful. But you're my beautiful girl." "That's right. And don't forget it. Save all that baby lotion for me." I stroked her nipples, which were hardening up. She began to breathe heavily. The second round of fireworks was starting in the next room, but it didn't seem as erotic as her, breathing while she got herself off, her legs up in the air, her full of my semen. John and I got our work on the windows done in about two hours the next day, and this time we made plenty of noise as we walked up to the beach. The girls raised themselves up, draping themselves with towels, and looked us over. "Kind of overdressed for swimming, aren't you?" Taylor called. We shucked our clothes and walked out to our wives. John took Taylor's hand and they ran out into the surf, diving into the water. I put my arm around Penny and we walked into the waves, floating and relaxing on the water. "Look," Penny said, and pointed over at John and Taylor. She was backed up to him, and when the waves receded I could see his erect penis, sliding up between Taylor's legs. He was rubbing her breasts, and her mouth was open. Penny giggled and turned into me. She kissed me passionately, and I kissed her back. My cock slid along her belly, and she began to stroke me. The seawater actually wasn't helping much, and we were being tossed by the waves. The moment passed, and we walked back up to the beach, followed in a few minutes by John and Taylor. That was an off night for Penny and I, and perhaps even for John and Taylor; we heard no strange sounds from the other side of the wall. I felt less over-stimulated now, and slept with Penny curled up next to me. Nudists claim that continued nudity desexualizes it, and causes us to return to a natural state where we aren't self-conscious of our bodies, but accepting of each other's individuality and differences. They may have a point, but most nudists haven't been on vacation with two oversexed friends. However, as the days went by, our nudity seemed to become more natural. The women continued to maintain some semblance of separation or cover most of the time when they were unclothed, with this strange double-standard about John and I, who could be free as birds. A couple of days after the incident on the beach, Taylor appeared topless, but wearing low-cut, brief board shorts, on the side of the grounds where we were cutting up tree limbs. She was bringing some drinks to us. John and I were clothed - there's something about a chainsaw that makes you want to wear pants and a shirt - but I gave her a frank look up and down, and she said, sheepishly. "I started my period. It'll be a couple of days before anyone wants me naked." But the shorts seemed to emphasize her belly and breasts, somehow, and her cunning hips. I stared after her departing form, and the line where her shorts rode the swell of her buttocks, until John cuffed me on the ear, laughing. That night Penny and I went at it like a couple of virgin teenagers. She seemed more pent up, somehow. I wondered now how much she had been getting off on seeing Taylor naked. She wanted to be on top, and I let her. She held my wrists down on the pillows and ground her way to orgasm, her breasts shaking. I noticed how brown she was getting, and told her so. "Oh yeah," she said, quickly rolling over to let the semen coat her cervix. "It's been great. Taylor and I are getting all over tans. Well, we were, but she's wearing these silly shorts now." "Yeah, we saw them." "You saw them? She said she was going in the house." "She brought out some cold drinks to us." Penny seemed jealous - of Taylor, not of me seeing Taylor. Me seeing Taylor half-nude didn't seem to bother Penny much anymore. She tried to cover it. "Okay. The tramp," she laughed. "Giving you a show, eh?" A couple of days later, Taylor was au natural again, but seemed to keep to the swimming pool, much as I had done the first day, trying to hide her sex. A couple of bright drops of blood were in the center of the chaise lounge when she got up; she was still bleeding a little. Penny saw it and mopped it up with the towel as Taylor slid into the pool. By now, the girls nearly had all-over tans, almost perfectly even. John and I still had pale regions where we wore shorts as we worked, but we were spending less of our time working and more time sunning, either split up as couples or John and I spying on the girls. By now, they knew we were watching them, and we knew they knew, but a certain amount of pretense about it held, even though we would later swim in the pool together, all nude. The girls seemed to spend more time oiling each other up, and one would straddle the other while she coated her back, buttocks, and legs. The one on bottom would look back and grin at the other, and then look up in our direction. They never quite kissed, but one would lean down and whisper to the other and laugh, her hair brushing the other's shoulder. The girls gave their husbands massages, lying on towels on the beach, and we gave our wives all-over rubdowns, just missing the clitori, just moving the cockhead around to get it out of the way, just avoiding the nipples, keeping it businesslike while our cocks stood up and drooled and their nipples froze into hardened points. We could do more on the beach; we were more circumspect in and around the pool, where we were in closer quarters. We were just far enough apart that we didn't have to look at each other; we were close enough that it was easy enough to do. One day, after the girls had been whispering to each other for a while, laying side by side, they got up and went into the house. John and I looked at each other for a moment, then we followed them, sneaking into the house. We could hear sounds coming from the master bath, and I nervously peered in as far as the bedroom. "Ow. Careful," Taylor whined from inside the bathroom. "Just relax. It's all got to be wet and soapy," Penny said. "Okay. Wow, that feels strange." "Spread your legs a little more." "I'll be honest; I could come with you doing this." "Hold still." "Let me see. Do you have a mirror?" "Here." Finally John got up and walked into the bedroom. "Hey ladies - wow. You're shaving Taylor? Hey, Chris, you ought to - nevermind," John said as they closed the bathroom door in his face. We got beers out of the kitchen and waited by the pool. "So what am I in for?" John asked. "The first time afterwards, she was almost too touchy. Then you kinda get used to it. It's no big deal," I said, fantasizing all the while about what Taylor's pussy looked and felt like now. When Taylor came back out John and I both whistled at her; she didn't really look much different, because her blonde bush had already been light and wispy, and trimmed down to the smallest little triangle when her legs were closed. But she kept rubbing it when she thought I wasn't looking, and her legs were gaping open as she leaned back on the chaise lounge. She couldn't keep her hands off of herself. We all saw it, and she tried to be casual about it, but she looked flushed and she kept passing her fingertips by her clitoris. That night the noises coming from next door were erotic and intense, and Penny got caught up in it. It was supposed to be an off night, but she let me take her from behind, and rocked back into me. She had freshly shaved her own pussy when she took her shower that night, and I fingered her until she came before I started slamming into her. We were both crying out, as loud as they were. I had this crazy, dreamlike thought that we might as well all be on one big bed, as close as we were. The following afternoon, which was when it happened, we were all a little tired; after the night's sex we had all put on t-shirts and sweats and drank beer in the living room until 1 a.m., trying to regain some sense of what was normal. Our vacation was over in a few days; Pam had already called a couple of times with minor issues, perhaps just to remind me she was back there on the job, and I couldn't help but think about all the things that were piling up on my desk. "Do you think they're going to be like this when we get home?" Penny asked when we were wide awake in bed at 2 a.m. "I don't know. I don't see them walking around their backyard, or ours, in the nude, if that's what you mean." "I wonder. I think they've been holding back. Maybe they've been playing us a little." I said that might be so, and finally drifted off to sleep. We ended up on the beach that afternoon, the blankets a lot closer than usual. John was off in the surf when Penny asked me to rub her and Taylor down with more oil. I had been half-asleep. I rubbed Penny down first, then approached Taylor. I had seen every inch of her body for days now. She was brown, and as lean as ever - she got up early and ran on the beach at least every other day. I rubbed her back, and legs. They were hard, almost rubbery in their slick, muscular consistency. "Come on Chris, you don't want me to burn my butt. All over, don't be shy. We're friends now; you've seen it all." Her glutes, when I rubbed oil over them, were a bit softer, but still I could feel the big muscles that drove her when she ran, or when she humped John. I had a knee between her legs, which were slightly parted; there was no other way to get to it all except straddling her. She pushed back, and for a moment I could feel her hot, wet pussy on my thigh. It felt like a volcano. She rolled over, and smiled up at me like a lover. She could have guided me right into her then and there; the parts were lined up and there would be no way for me to resist. "Do the front, please," she whispered. I stroked her thighs, shins, and feet with oily hands, replenishing from the bottle again and again. She seemed to be soaking it up like a sponge. I could feel my penis throb; at one point it was bobbing rhythmically into the arch of her foot while I rubbed the top. I got up and moved around to her head "The chest?" I croaked. "Nothing more painful than burned titties." I spread the oil around her chest and midriff. I tried to give it all equal attention, but I knew if I ever delved anywhere near her pussy I would never come back out, and her glistening orbs were so perfect to my hands. Nothing more painful than burned titties. Hers were warm and soft. Her nipples were hard. I looked down; my penis was rock hard, of course, and inches from her mouth. I looked over; Penny was staring at us, lust and fear doing laps in her own heaving chest. I stood up. "I think we need a break. I'll get us all some beer," Taylor said. I stupidly thought she was planning to carry them all in her slippery little hands. I forgot about the festive little cooler bag she had been bringing beer and sodas out in ever since we got here. "I'll go help you," I said. I was also thinking about getting in the house, getting cool. Going into the little bathroom and jacking off, baby or no baby. I walked off after her. "I got it. I'll put them in the cooler bag, see?" Taylor said when we got in the house. "Go on, unless there's something else you need to do." A little domestic scene, just like any man would have with another man's wife, except that we were both naked and she was covered with oil. The cold air was helping me come to my senses. We left John and Penny out there on the beach, and Penny probably thought we were in here, me putting a baby in Taylor for all she knew. "We should get back out there, don't you think - Chris?" *** What I can't remember, for all the talks that John and I have had on the porch swings back home, is that question of whether Taylor is on the pill. It seems they were going to start trying soon, but I can't remember where things stand. It seems they were going to try that very soon now. The girls had talked about it, but I can't remember if she had come off it. There's some time after coming off the pill where the doctor recommended that we use condoms, but that was a long time ago for Penny and I. To be honest, the question didn't really occur to me until I was coming inside Taylor, deep and strong, both of us gasping with need and relief.