The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

minutes Susan stood. “I think I’m getting waterlogged. Who wants to move to the sectional?”

As we were all rising to leave the pool, Marci tapped my leg and mouthed that I should wait with her. The rest of them headed to the stack of towels on the bar to dry off.

“So,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“What I want to know is, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Fuck, Ryan. I was just holding Harold’s dick, and he was sucking on my tits, and I kissed him. God, I’ve never held two dicks at once before, and…”

“I completely understand, Marci. It’s okay.” Her stress on kiss put it higher on a scale of intimacy than holding a man’s cock, which I found interesting.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. When I saw you holding his cock I couldn’t believe how much I wanted you. I don’t have the words.”

“God,” she said. “What’s happening here?”

“I don’t think any of us knows for sure.”

“It would never have happened without you, Ryan. Never.”

“I know,” I said, then took a beat. “Marci, what was it like to hold two men’s cocks at the same time?”

She thought about it. “I felt powerful and really naughty, and I wanted to get even naughtier. I wanted to get down and lick your balls, both yours and Harold’s. I wanted you both to fuck me right there. For a second, I almost climbed up on the bar so you could, taking turns…”

“Jesus.”

“I know. I was almost right there.”

“That would have been something.” I quickly imagined it. I could see Harold pounding into her while she gasped and moaned deliriously. My cock, which had been on break, quickly conformed to its primary mandate. It now ached. The idea of Harold fucking Marci with me right there watching placed me right on the edge. I wanted to make love to Marci on the spot.

“I want you to fuck Meg,” she said, in the tone of an afterthought.

Earlier that evening, she said she wouldn’t mind if I slept with Meg. Now she was instructing me to. Was this a strategic suggestion meant to balance the ledger? Did she mean to soften the earlier blow of saying she wanted to fuck Harold right on the bar? Would it excite her to see me making love to Meg? I wasn’t sure of anything.

“I don’t know if that’s in the cards.”

“Ryan, I think I’m going to fuck Greg tonight, and then Harold. I want both of them to fuck me, and I want you to watch me do it. I want to look you right in the eye as they’re fucking me. Then I want all three of you to fuck me.”

“God, Marci.” I didn’t really believe her. I couldn’t believe her. I also knew I wanted to believe her.

“Let’s just do this, okay?” she said. “Let’s do this and get it out of our system and then after, it’ll just be us and Susan again.”

“And Greg.”

“But it’ll always be us, right? You, me and Susan. Tell me that.”

“There’ll always be the three of us.”

We kissed like I was going off to war. It lasted until we were interrupted by Susan.

“Hey, you two. Are you ever getting out of there?”

“We were just having a word,” I said. “We’re coming.”

Chapter 33: Escalation Of Desire

PLEUROTHALLIS ASERA

As a young teen, I came across a selection of prints from a collection entitled “Roman Baths”. Under siege by the hormonal hurricane of puberty, I was fascinated by the communal nudity, the women lying naked on a bench, or loosely and poorly concealed by the hazardous wardrobe properties of togas. In many of the images, the women were completely nude and undeterred by modest intentions. Sitting in languid pools or sprawled over what looked like Roman daybeds, they socialized without inhibition.

I was reminded of these puerile obsessions reviewing the rooftop scene. Harold was loosely wrapped in a towel sitting on the outdoor sofa next to Susan, whose own towel had fallen from her breasts. Greg, equipped like Harold, was sitting next to Meg, who hadn’t bothered with a towel at all. The two couples sat on opposing ends of the U-shaped sectional. As sectionals go, it was small, so it was a cozy scene. A gas fire pit in the center was lit for effect, not heat, and cast a flickering light.

Marci and I stood by the bar drying off. Once dry, we grabbed fresh towels and wrapped them around our waists. They really had done a good job providing a surfeit of high-grade linens.

Marci looked at the sofa but opted to sit at the bar. I went around it to make us fresh drinks.

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked.

She surveyed the blue-green glow of booze stacked on the two glass shelves behind me. “Hey, how about something cognacky?”

“Like, say, cognac?”

“Yeah, that’ll work.”

I opened a bottle of Grand Marnier, found Greg had supplied proper snifters under the bar and poured us two cognacs.

Having cooled down from the pool, Marci’s nipples looked taut. It was hard not to notice as they were right there. Beyond her, I could see Susan had moved over to Greg and Meg. Harold was nowhere in sight. A restroom break no doubt.

Rather than sitting on the other side of Greg, Susan was next to Meg, whose right hand was now occupied in his crotch. There was evidence of a grand erection in progress.

“This is yummy. Is it expensive?” asked Marci.

“It’s not cheap. Maybe $300 a bottle, less in duty free. Why? Would you like to steal it?”

“We could take it back to our room. I could pour some on your cock and lick it off.”

“I could do the same with your lady parts.”

“Ew. That might sting a little.”

“We could just drink it out of glasses too.”

She laughed.

Harold reappeared and joined us at the bar.

“Cognac?” I inquired.

“Sure, great. Thanks.” I poured him a drink. He glanced at his wife, who was now kissing my wife. Susan’s hand was on Meg’s breast. Meg’s right-hand action with Greg continued and