Happy New Year?

As my eyes traveled lazily upward, I noticed that she had untied the strings that held her top on so as to avoid tan lines on her back. I also noticed that I was developing another potentially-embarrassing hard on.

Just as I was getting ready to assume my familiar position on my stomach once more, Trish turned over unexpectedly. From her reaction, I'm pretty sure she already sensed that I was behind her. As she turned quickly and sat up, it was as if she'd forgotten her top was untied. The unsecured top slipped down, and before she could reposition it, she'd revealed almost all of both breasts as well as her left nipple.

"Oops!" she giggled, as she caught the top with her forearms and brought it back to its proper place. And then she noticed my erection, which by now was in its full glory, making a tent out of my swim trunks. Trish' face flushed a little at the sight, but she didn't look away. Her eyes simply traveled leisurely from my crotch, upward over my still relatively flat stomach, across my chest and to my face, where our eyes locked.

Her gaze never wavered and she seemed to intentionally hold the eye contact an uncomfortably long time. Even at that, she didn't look away. Her eyes simply retraced their original route and wound up at my erection once more. This unexpected situation did nothing to tame it. If anything, I was harder than ever. The way she studied the bulge in my trunks, I half expected her to make some sort of comment.

Instead, she broke the uncomfortable silence with, "Dan, would you mind putting some of that lotion on my back? I think I may be getting a little too much sun." Without waiting for my answer, she turned back over on her stomach and lay there waiting with her arms crossed beneath her head.

"Uh, sure," I stammered, as I knelt beside her, squirted some lotion in my palm and began to tentatively apply it to her soft skin. I did my best to stay as far from her as I reasonably could while still being able to reach her back.

"You really are getting warm," I noted as I massaged the lotion into her skin.

"You have no idea," she purred huskily. And with that, she moved her arms from beneath her head and put one at each side. The problem was, as she repositioned her left arm, the back of her hand brushed against my cock, which was still in its full state of excitement.

"Uh oh," she said teasingly. "I guess you're enjoying yourself as much as I am."

"I, uh . . ." I responded haltingly, guess as close to speechless as I could remember being.

"The vacation," she laughed. "You know, surf, sand, all that."

"Oh, yeah, sure. It's been a lot of fun," I said, not knowing for sure if she really was talking about our vacation or commenting on my cock. I decided not to ask for clarification.

"Could you do my legs, too?" Her voice couldn't have sounded more innocent.

"I don't know," I mumbled. "I think I should . . ."

"Please," she whined, drawing out the word to sound like a little girl.

"All right," I said finally, "as long as you stop that whining. It doesn't become you," I continued. "I'm sure you typically get what you want without having to beg for it." I wanted to show her she wasn't the only one who could throw around a double entendre.

Without even hesitating, she shot back, "Not everything. But I'm working on it."

I didn't have a comeback for that. I wasn't even completely sure what she meant. I never put the lotion on her legs either, as Cathy and Scott came trotting back from the water about that time.

I can't say I wasn't a little disappointed at the interruption. But I did realize it was certainly for the best.

That night, Cathy and I fucked like we hadn't since the first few months of our marriage. Our sex life had been okay recently, but just okay. Some of the passion from the early days was just not there anymore. It was probably a combination of our hectic schedules and taking each other for granted. We just didn't work on keeping things fresh.

But that night, it was like old times. I had been in an almost constant state of arousal since we left the beach. Interestingly, Cathy was particularly enthusiastic, as well. Not only did she let me fuck her doggie style, something she never seemed to like much, she actually ASKED for it. I didn't bother to analyze the experience. I just enjoyed it.

Afterward she rested her head on my shoulder as we lay there enjoying that blissful post-orgasmic glow. I was on the verge of dropping off to sleep when Cathy said, "I'm thinking about shaving my pubes." She wasn't exactly talking to me, I don't think. It was more like she was just throwing something out there to see what happened.

Of course, I became very interested very quickly. I no longer felt like sleeping. "Oh?" I responded. I thought I'd wait to see where this was going before I committed myself.

"Yeah, a lot of women are doing it," she explained. "I think I might want to try it, just to see if I like it. It's not like it won't grow back if I don't."

Her remark about "all the women doing it" tempted me to ask if she got the idea from Trish. Fortunately, I quickly realized that I'd be crazy to indicate that I had even THOUGHT about whether Trish's pussy was bald. "Yeah, it'll definitely grow back if you don't like it." I tried not to be too enthusiastic, even though I was getting hard again imagining what Cathy's pussy would look like bald. What I really wanted to say was "Yessssss!" It would be like sleeping with a new woman, which would do wonders for our sex life.

"Well, baby," I said calmly, trying to conceal my enthusiasm. "Whatever you decide will be just fine. After all, they ARE your pubes." I turned toward her, smiling, and kissed her softly, expecting that we'd roll over and drop off to sleep.

Instead, Cathy started licking my earlobe and nuzzling my neck . . . a sure sign she was "in the mood." She let her hand trail down my chest, over my belly until she found my cock. When she discovered I was already hard again, she just said, "Mmmmmm," and began to stroke me slowly up and down. "I think someone else likes the idea of a bare pussy," she teased.

"It is a sexy idea," I agreed. "Go ahead and give it a try."

"Oh, I will," she said huskily. "Believe me, I will."

And with that, Cathy got up on her knees, put one on either side of me, and slid my cock into her hot tunnel, still dripping with the mixture of our cum from our earlier lovemaking session. As she began to ride me, I looked up and saw passion that I hadn't seen in a long time. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, nostrils flared. Her hands massaged her breasts, stopping only to pinch her rock-hard nipples.

For an instant, I wondered to myself what had gotten in to her. But that thought vanished almost immediately as she began to fuck me more vigorously, grinding herself against my pubic bone to stimulate her engorged clit. I couldn't think about anything but how good it felt.

* * * *

The night before we were to return home from our trip, I sat in the living room of the condo alone. I always have trouble sleeping the night before I travel, so I decided to start a book that I might be able to finish on the flight back to Oklahoma. Cathy was already in bed, asleep I'm certain. She could fall asleep quicker than anyone I'd ever known.

But I hadn't even read the first page of my book. For the past hour or so, I'd been concentrating on the sounds of Scott and Trish having sex. Since the bedrooms were on opposite sides of the condo, any sounds from one bedroom could not be heard in the other. However, I discovered that night that sound carried very well from bedroom to living room.

I had been listening intently as moans, whimpers, heavy breathing and the squeaking of bed springs drifted seductively through the bedroom door. A couple of times I found myself getting up from my chair and walking toward the door to see if I could hear better, or better yet, to see if I could catch a glimpse of any of the obviously heated action.

Each time I caught myself, sat back down and tried to remember that these were my friends. It would be wrong of me to intrude on their privacy. But my cock did not display such a considerate attitude. I had another raging hard on that was straining to escape the confinement of my shorts.

"Yessssss! Fuck me with that big cock!" Trish screamed. Those were the first words loud enough for me to distinguish. Good friends or not, I could no longer contain myself. So I looked one more time at the door of the bedroom where Cathy was sleeping, unzipped my shorts and allowed my throbbing erection to spring free. I began to stroke it slowly, closing my eyes to imagine what Scott and Trish were doing behind that closed door.

I envisioned Trish on top of Scott, riding him with complete abandon, her voluptuous breasts bouncing up and down each time she drove herself forcefully down on his cock. I was sure her strawberry blonde hair would be mussed and her body covered with the sweat of sexual exertion. With that picture in my mind, I began to stroke myself in rhythm with the squeaking bed springs.

As the incredibly hot scene played itself out in my head, I could feel myself getting close to orgasm. Then, suddenly, with one final, "Ohhhhhhhh, yessssssss!" things were quiet. Obviously Trish had enjoyed a spectacular orgasm. I could imagine the two of them rolling over, spent, and drifting into a deep sleep. That's certainly what I would have done after a session like that.

But even though Scott and Trish had shared a wonderful orgasm, I was still in need, by this time incredibly aroused from their sounds and my vivid imagination. So I closed my eyes and began to stroke myself once more, very slowly. Whenever I masturbate, time permitting, I love to let my climax build and build, taking myself right to the brink over and over again, before stepping back just in time to keep things going.

And so it was this night. Confident everyone but me was deeply asleep, I took my time, moving my hand leisurely up and down my shaft, tickling the underside of the swollen head, then using my precum as a convenient lubricant. Each subsequent time I took myself to the edge of the cliff, I would have to concentrate harder and harder to keep from tumbling over. The perfect state was to get to that delicious point where just one more stroke would cause me to explode. Then I'd stop to allow that amazing tingling feeling to subside, until I could bring myself up the mountain once more.

I had just reached that exquisite, almost painful stage . . . one stroke from the point of no return . . . when the bedroom door opened slightly. I didn't realize it at first because I was concentrating so hard on not cumming. But in a second, the sound seeped into my consciousness, and I opened my eyes.

And there stood Trish, wrapped in a small towel that was really not big enough to cover her full breasts and her lower regions at the same time. Like a car going from zero to sixty in six seconds, my heart rate surged from a relaxed state to full fight or flight mode almost instantaneously. I know my face must have flushed scarlet with embarrassment.

I didn't know what to do. I guess I thought subconsciously that if I stayed still enough, she might not notice me. That was stupid, of course, because I was sitting next to a lamp, fully illuminated. But there I sat, perfectly still, with my hand still grasping my rock hard cock.

At that point, Trish looked over at me. We stared at each other wordlessly for what seemed like five minutes. But I'm sure it was just a few seconds. I assumed at that point she would quickly duck back into her room and close the door quietly, so we could pretend the incident never happened.

She closed the door all right. But she closed it from the living room side, leaving the two of us eyeing each other curiously. Then this quizzical little smile spread over her face, and she started to walk toward me. "Shhhhhh," she said softly, pressing her finger to her lips. There was no need to tell me to be quiet. I sure didn't want Scott or Cathy to wake up at this awkward moment.

Holding her towel just above her breasts, she moved quickly toward a chair that sat opposite mine, about five feet away. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she giggled, sinking into the soft seat of the overstuffed chair. As she positioned herself, the towel rode up far enough to confirm my conclusion about her totally hairless pussy. Her bare mound curved prominently, and my eyes followed that curve downward to her full lips, which were still engorged from the fucking she had just received.

Seeing the route my eyes were traveling, she adjusted the towel downward, but in concealing her pussy, she exposed her magnificent breasts for my inspection. I had seen most of them on the beach when her top slipped down, but this time I could survey them in their full glory—from her silver-dollar sized areolas to her hard nipples, which were standing proudly at attention.

Finally, I remembered my own compromising situation and quickly began tugging on my shorts and underwear, trying to pull them up from around my knees to cover my still rigid manhood. But Trish stopped me. "Wait," she whispered. "I want to watch."

Stunned, I couldn't seem to get my body to move. I had no idea what might happen next. But the embarrassment and discomfort of this whole situation finally began to take its toll on my erection, which had softened to the point that it lay limp against my belly.

"Awww," she said quietly, her eyes studying my softening member. "What happened?"

"I'm not exactly used to having an audience for this," I responded, trying to maintain what little dignity I had left and keep my voice down so as not to wake our spouses. "I hardly ever do this," I lied. "It's just . . ."

But Trish interrupted, "Were you being a bad boy and listening to Scott and me fuck?" she teased.

By this time my face was even redder and my cock softer still. "How did you . . .," I stammered. "I was just . . ."

"You were just listening to us fuck, got all turned on and decided to have a little fun yourself. Didn't you?" she said, her smile broadening. "I know you can hear nearly everything that goes on in the bedrooms from here."

"How did you know . . . I, uh . . .?" I couldn't get the words out.

"As a matter of fact, I listened to you and Cathy the other night."

I stared at her in disbelief. "You listened to us? I didn't realize . . ."

"Yeah. When you put lotion on me on the beach," she explained. "It was that night. God, you were really worked up. Sounded like Cathy was, too."

"So, what happens now?" I asked, realizing I might already know the answer.

"I want to watch," she repeated calmly, as if she had just told me she wanted to watch me change a flat or something.

"Watch what?" I was stalling for time to collect myself.

"You know what. Get yourself off. Masturbate. Jack off. Whatever you guys call it."

"I don't know," I hesitated. "What if they wake up? What if . . .?"

"C'mon," she coaxed. "You know you want to. I can tell."

She was right, of course. My cock had busted me, as usual. Hearing about Trish listening to Cindy and me made it come alive. In no time it was standing straight and tall, so engorged you could see it throb every time my heart beat.

"Maybe this will help," she offered, as she opened her towel, revealing completely that amazing body I had been lusting after all week.

At that point, I felt like Chevy Chase in that Vacation movie . . . when he jumped into the swimming pool with a naked Christy Brinkley, even though he knew his wife might look out their hotel window at any moment and see what was happening. "This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy," he kept repeating to himself.

But he took off his clothes and jumped in anyway. And so did I.

I let my eyes wander over Trish' body and began to stroke myself again. I'd never been this close to a woman who exuded such raw sexuality . . . especially with my dick in my hand. I took in every curve, every line.

As my hand moved faster and faster, the images were coming in fragments . . . the swell of her breasts . . . her light brown areolas . . . hard nipples . . . tight belly . . . naked pussy . . . Then, Trish sat back, lifted her legs and put her feet flat on her chair. She let her knees fall outward and used both hands to spread her lips to expose herself to me totally. I'll never forget how she looked under the glow of the lamp, her pink inner folds glistening with a combination of arousal and the cum Scott had deposited there only minutes before.

That's the last image I saw before the first glob of cum splattered under my chin and started dribbling down my neck. It was followed by several more blasts that covered my chest and belly. As I came, I kept stroking myself vigorously, my hand nearly a blur. It felt so good I never wanted to stop. But finally, I had to stop. I was just too sensitive and my cock too soft to continue.

I slowly raised my eyes and looked at Trish. I'd been avoiding eye contact so I could keep my concentration while I jacked off. She was smiling that same quizzical smile that I saw when she first came out of the bedroom. About that same time, I also became aware of the copious amount of semen that covered nearly all my body from the waist up. I'd never cum so hard or so much in my entire life.

"Mmmmm. Had you been saving all that for me?" she teased, as she let her eyes wander up and down my upper body. I was too spent to answer and in the aftermath of my orgasm, my embarrassment was returning, not to mention my fear of getting caught.

Trish didn't wait for an answer. She just stood up from her chair, adjusted her towel and walked over to me. Before I could react, she reached out and used two fingertips to collect a glob of my cum. Then she raised them to her lips and licked off the sticky white goo, slowly and completely. I know by this time my jaw must have been resting on my cum-splattered chest.

"Mmmmm," she purred. "That's good. But next time I want it on me."

And with that, she turned and walked back toward her bedroom, giving me one last lingering look at her beautiful ass, which was not nearly covered by the skimpy towel.

"Next time? I said to myself. "Next time?

* * * *

On the flight home the next morning, everything seemed perfectly normal on the surface. The four of us made small talk and reviewed some of the highlights from the trip as we rode to the airport in the cramped taxi. Cathy sat in back with Scott and Trish, and I was more than happy to join the cabbie in front.

Inside, however, I felt far from normal. My stomach was churning and it wouldn't have surprised me if my face was still red. I still hadn't wrapped my mind around what happened the night before, even though I lay in bed nearly all night, playing it over and over in my head. The fact that I was lying there next to Cathy, who was sleeping peacefully and had no idea what was going on, made me feel terribly guilty.

I had never cheated on her in the seven years we'd been married. And although Trish and I had technically not had sex, I knew our behavior fell well within cheating territory. I kept asking myself why I went along with it. I also had an inner debate about whether to confess to Cathy and suffer the consequences.

Then I thought of Scott, who over the past year had become my best friend. How would he react? Could our friendship possibly survive something like this?

And Trish. What the hell was she all about? She handled herself with such ease and confidence the night before. Does she do things like that often? Maybe I should tell Scott so he could confront her about what she's been up to.

On and on it went. During the taxi ride. On the flight home. The questions just kept coming. But where were the answers?