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"Let's go to my place," she whispered. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I followed her to the parking lot where a limousine awaited us. We got into the limo and the driver peeled away from the club into the darkness of the night. Her hands were all over me as we kissed passionately time and time again. It was so wonderful. She placed my hand on her right breast and as if instinctually I began to caress it gently. I thought of the first time I kissed my wife. She was so young and we were so innocent. The long black limousine pulled up to a large mansion. The place was dark save a small light above the main entrance. As she walked in front of the house and into the dim light, she looked very plain, her hair was no longer shining. Her dress was so tight that she had trouble just walking to the door.

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"John! John!" She shouted. She saw me. The club was very extravagant. Drinks were $7.00 a whack! She insisted that she pay for everything. We danced to every song. She was tireless. Every once in a while I began to enjoy myself in spite of my guilt. The last song was for couples only. She pulled me to the middle of the dance floor and we danced cheek to cheek as though we were lovers. I think she wanted me to kiss her, but she could wait for me no longer. She kissed me passionately on the lips as though we were the only two people in the room. It was a long slow sensuous kiss. The kind of kiss that I had only dreamed about in the past. My thoughts turned to my wife once again. What would she think of me if she had ever known about this? How could I face her in the morning? We kissed again and again until the very last note of the song echoed into the darkness.

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Suddenly, the weather began to change. The sun hid its face behind a cloud that resembled a python. I began to think about my wife again. We had some really good times together. As the sun lowered itself behind the water it began to get a bit cold. "Do you like to dance?" she asked excitedly. I hadn't danced a step in fifteen years. "Love it," I said. "Great. I know this excellent little club in town. Would you like to go?" She asked. She waited for a response, but it seemed she already knew my answer. I met her at the entrance to the club. She had changed into a sexy red dress. It flattered her petite figure. Tight around the waist, and stretched to accentuate her chest. I was really feeling guilty. I had hoped she hadn't seen me so I could just leave and forget about the whole day.

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I looked at her lustfully and said, "no, I'd rather stay here." She mistook my lustful gaze as sadness and wrapped her arm around me. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked compassionately. "No!" I screamed. "Lets go swimming." We spent the next few minutes in the cold shallow water of the ocean. We had a fantastic time together. We splashed, laughed, and playfully teased each other. After we had worn each other out, we headed for the sand. As we walked back to our spot, I noticed her beautiful limbs. She had quite long legs. They were muscular, but just enough to make them firm and sexy. She was absolutely wonderful. A work of art.

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I began to think about the argument I had with my wife hours before. I just needed to get out of the house for a while. I came to the beach hoping to straighten things out in my head. I wasn't really sure what I felt about her. I began to wonder whether or not I had ever loved my wife. She changed somehow after our marriage, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was that was different. All I knew was that I had to get away for a while. I gently rubbed the sunblock on her side. As my hand rose up and down, I brushed against the side of her breasts. She shivered ever so slightly as I rubbed the cold sunblock on her bare skin. For a long time, we both laid in the blistering sun. Finally, she got up and said, "lets go swimming!"

“I’ve run out of lotion Do you have any that I could borrow?”
She asked politely.

I fumbled though my things and came up with a half used bottle
of sunblock. I held it out to her, but she simply turned around.

“Would you mind rubbing some on my back? I feel a burn coming
on,” she said calmly.

Actually, I did mind. I was suddenly very defensive. I was
hoping to spend a nice quiet day alone. I said nothing. I began to
massage the sunblock on her smooth white back. The smell of the sand
and the surf had combined with her perfume and her hairspray. I was
becoming more and more aroused by her.

“Beautiful day,” she said. “I sometimes wish every day was like
this.”

The sound of her voice reminded me of a small bird I heard
singing earlier in the day. The sun was still shining brilliantly
behind her. I could barely make out her face through the glare.

“Well, man does not live on bread alone,” I said foolishly.

Suddenly, she seemed very interested in what I had to say. I
propped myself up onto my elbow and for the first time I saw her face.
She was strikingly beautiful. She was the kind of girl that you had
to look at twice to make sure you weren’t seeing things. When she
turned away for a moment, I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t
dreaming. My eyes wondered down from her face to her small, but
perfect breasts. It was as if they were speaking to me. “Hello. We
are her breasts.” I thought. Before I could finish my lustful gaze
of her assets, she spoke to me again.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Gloryville. I remember the hot
summer sun shining on the vast ocean which lay before me. I remember
thinking that nothing could be more beautiful than the Gloryville town
beach that day, but I was wrong.

About midday, I saw her. I saw her walking along the beach with
a light summer shawl around her waist. She was far away, but I could
see the sun shining on her golden blonde hair as if she had a halo.
As she walked down the beach towards me, she stopped for a moment to
talk briefly with each person she passed. After what seemed like an
eternity she reached the spot where I was tanning. I tried to pretend
not to notice her arrival, but it didn’t work.

She took a finder in her mouth and languidly
rolled her tongue around it, tasting herself. As she nursed quietly on him,
Sara’s hand nestled between his legs as it often did, and was greeted by
a warm splash of fluid as he lost control. Oblivious, Sara slept on, and his
body slowly relaxed. Julie clasped his hand to her now-buttoned shirt, and
he slipped away. He could have sworn he heard the last ember of the fire
wink out, though he might have been mistaken.

As his middle
finger slid wetly over her clitoris she thrust upwards and engulfed him.
He reached inside of her and cupped her as he had her breast, rocking
his palm in slow circles. His fingers were deep inside of her pulsing
walls as he grasped her lips between his knuckles and held firmly.
With the heel of his hand he pressed downwards and fluttered his palm,
sending vibrations through her spine to explode in her brain. She clamped
her teeth on his arm as her thighs clutched at him and she trembled.
Minutes passed as they lay still. Sara stirred, rolling over to her
right. He turned with her, and the motion drew him from her with a soft
smacking sound. As Sara’s arm slid around his waist in her slumber, Julie
curled on her left facing him in the darkness. She drew his hand to her lips
and delicately licked it.

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His hand was nestled in a womb of moist, warm air as Julie began to roll her hips forward with each circle in vain to catch the fingers as they passed. She was aching, straining for the contact, but was herself afraid of waking the bed's third inhabitant. As he circled, he felt her wetness creep up the crotch to meet his fingers and he relented. At the top of his next circle he darted under the string which was the waistband of her panties. Arching his wrist, he lifted the damp cotton from her and danced his fingers through her hairs. Scratching lightly, his fingers burrowed inward to her center. Her thighs parted involuntarily to make room for him, and Julie's leg stretched over his. He lifted his left leg over hers in an effort to restrain her motion.

His palm lay against her belly, and he
discovered with a smile that Julie was an “outie.” His longest fingers just
crested the ridge of her pubic bone. A whisper of motion and he could feel
the smooth skin beneath the sweats. He drew his arm upwards, his elbow grazing
her warm breasts, and he set about to untie the drawstrings around her waist.
At this odd angle he was clumsy, and his fingernails too short to grasp the
tiny knot. He fumbled quietly for a time, until suddenly his hand was shoved
away. He recognized the tearing of a seam in his ears as she thrust his hand
through the torn waistband and over her mons. Now his fingers felt coarse
ringlets underneath sheer panties, and he scritched lightly in circles at
the top of the hill. With each circle he dipped somewhat lower, until he
was sweeping across the barest hint of a ridge of flesh. He stopped his
advances there, pressing more firmly but always only grazing that spot.

He gently squeezed his palm, grasping a fistfull of Julie and kneading it.
Her hips unconsciously shifted as her breath deepened. Her hand closed about
his wrist and pried him from her for a moment. He thought he had overstepped
his bounds and was about to withdraw. His arm was being replaced, though this
time his hand slipped under the soft cotton and he felt her hot skin touch his.
Her breast fairly burned as he stroked it, running his thumb over her swollen
nipple.
Julie rolled back against him and then slid slightly away, lieing on her
back. The move slid her chest beneath him and he met the other coral hill as
the shirt fell away. Still he could see nothing, but in his mind he saw them
laying there, Sara deep in sleep, he embracing both women, and Julie with her
bosom open to the room, growing warm beneath the blankets. After what seemed
several hours, she raised her head and pulled his arm from beneath it, laying
it across her body. Julie shifted the blankets, pulling their top beneath his
arm until it dropped beneath them.

Her faint sigh seemed to roar in his ears and his hand froze. Pressed
against him, he felt Julie shift slightly, and the motion pressed his hand
closer to her shirt, jostling his fingers. He waited a moment, unsure of his
next move, when a warm, sticky mass pressed against the webbing of his thumb.
Julie’s tongue slid agonizingly slowly over his knuckle and between his
first two fingers.
He resumed his inspection of the flannel of her shirt, confirming his
identification. He listened closely to Sara’s breath, feeling along his left
side for wakefullness. She slept heavily, as ever, something they had joked
about. He knew it would take a fire alarm to stir her before the morning light.

Once in the bathroom, she turned to face herself in the mirror. Two
crisp peaks in her shirt met her gaze, and she saw she was flushed. Hurriedly
flicking off the light she drew a drink of water and sat down, taking a deep
breath. Her fingers trembled as she drew the water to her lips to sip.
Counting to twenty, she tried to recall the meditations he had taught her.
She folded up her legs and found her center, her breath becoming normal.
Sara darted back into the bedroom and slipped under the covers next to
him, opposite Julie. He turned obligingly and she lay on his arm. This was
familiar, this was natural, she thought. Soon she drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to extreme darkness. The fire was dead, though some of its heat
remained. Concentrating, he found that he lay on his back, and felt Sara
curled up to his left, wrapped around his arm. With a mental start he realized
that the heat he felt came from Julie, who had closed the distance between them
and was now nestled with her back to him, around his other arm. Stretched but
comfortable, he relaxed, concentrating on the sensations of the room. There
was a low hiss emanating from the fireplace, almost beneath notice. The heavy
wool blanket weighed upon him reassuringly, and he felt Sara’s warm breath
dance along his upper arm. The fingers of one of her hands were laced with his.
His other hand felt a soft sponginess he couldn’t identify. He moved his
fingers gently, sliding the tips along and pressing slightly. As he searched,
a bulge formed underneath the surface of the cloth, and with another start he
identified the sensation. He was gently stroking Julie’s left nipple as his
palm cupped her heavy breast.

They all were rocked lightly as they shifted into place. Sara in the middle
slept on her right side, and he cupped her body in a spoon. Julie lay on Sara’s
right, her head close. Sara could feel his hardness pressed against her back,
and began to feel a small core of heat inside of her. But she cautioned
herself that they were staying with a friend, and she was uneasy with another
person so near. Though it was hard to be
Julie was so sweet. They had been friends for several months now. Julie seemed
very comfortable with herself, something Sara envied. But she was coming out
of her shell, as he would say.
Sara turned her head and kissed his arm, which was threaded beneath her
neck. It streched out further still, and Julie lay her head in his hand. She
did look awfully pretty in the dim orange light of the remaining embers in the
fireplace. Julie was slowly tracing circles on the back of Sara’s hand. She
felt herself being slowly mesmerized. But there was a tension instead of the
growing relaxation she was hoping to feel, was afraid of feeling. She
became restless, and shifted about. He whispered a question into her ear,
nuzzling it in the process, and she drew herself up. Sliding over him, she
murmurred “bathroom,” and slid out of the room.