Obvious, in Retrospect

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. 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. 221 4.50/512345