Nighttime Confessions 2: Sunrise Pt. 02

NIGHTTIME CONFESSIONS Ch 2:

SUNRISE REVELATIONS Part 2

After drying off, we were escorted back to the first room for a peaceful rest. Draped in hot towels on the massage bed, I closed my eyes but could not drift off to sleep. I guess this was intended to be a time for contemplation and reflection after the physical sensations of the treatments.

I still tingled with excitement and had much to think about. Was I a lesbian? Was the new Marge a slut AND a lesbian? I wondered again who I was or had become far from home and the roles that had defined my life. But I knew I could not blame my relative lack of inhibition that afternoon on alcohol. What must Judy think of me now? I recognized how close I had come to throwing all discretion to the wind and giving in to my increasingly devilish pussy.

After the towels cooled, we donned our suits for a poolside tan as we waited for the others. Judy chided me again about my one-piece but it did hide my stretch marks very well. She pulled on her wicked weasel and led the way to the pool. I could not take my eyes off her ass, bisected by the tee-back. I had to acknowledge that I was truly attracted to and excited by her perfectly proportioned bubble-butt.

Around 4 pm, I was well into a much-needed nap when DeeDee and Rachel finally arrived to pull up lounge chairs. They ordered tropical drinks (I ordered a diet Coke) and dove into the pool to refresh themselves. When they rejoined us, I had to endure more ribbing about my swimsuit.

"Nice togs, Grandma," Rachel grinned. "Are you sure you're not showing too much tit there? I mean you do have nipples under there don't you?"

"I can assure you she has nipples and very nice ones at that," said Judy, who was comfortably topless in the lounge beside me. "But it's a good thing she's not wearing one of these (as she lifted and snapped the miniscule triangle of her weasel bottoms)."

I blushed at the obvious reference to my overgrown bush. But that seemed to break the tension we had felt during lunch. I was not yet prepared to forgive all of them for what I considered to be an offense but my emotions were not so raw after my extraordinary sojourn in the spa.

Roused from the stupor of my nap, I studied these women who had so easily lulled me into an adventure of illicit sex. Rachel was the youngest at 30, and displayed her firm body with the confidence of a woman who knew she was attractive to men. She was easily the tallest of our group, with her shiny black hair in a perm that seemed to proclaim that she was exciting. As she sashayed to the pool for her dip, I stared at another skimpy bikini – low cut on the hips.

I actually thought she would have looked better in a true string thong. Despite her relative youth and her muscular buttocks, she showed just the hint of saddlebags on her upper thighs, which seemed to be emphasized by the cut of her bottoms. When she was seated in the lounge chair, she removed her bikini bra to display small, firm breasts with brown nipples and dark aureoles. Oddly, her body was somewhat out of proportion – hips too wide or tits too small for her height. I couldn't decide which. Her tits were somewhat wall-eyed, if you know what I mean, but tilted up at the tips in a way that I have always admired. Definitely what I would describe as perky.

DeeDee was my height, but a little heavier and more muscular than I. She wore a string bikini, which was probably a mistake. Her butt, while not fat or wide, was jiggly and would have looked better with the restraint of a full bikini bottom. She too stripped off her top when she sat down. Did I tell you DeeDee had big mahamahamahamas? Very big and somewhat droopy (Meeooww!) with reddish pink nipples and aureoles.

Was I catty or what? I blushed to realize that I was checking out and critiquing these women so carefully. Was I trying to put them down because they ripped off my suit, or because they helped me make the biggest mistake of my life the night before? Or because the new Marge secretly wanted to fuck them?

Although I felt like I could have slept straight through the night after the massage and mud bath, I roused myself from these catty thoughts. I had more to discuss, especially with Rachel. But before I could start with my questions, Judy spoke up.

"So tell us again what is the problem with the group, DeeDee?" Judy enquired. "If Marge is not going to play, Phil will be available tonight if you don't want Sam."

"Give it up, Judy," DeeDee replied. "You all know that Sam is a lousy fuck but nobody wanted to switch with me last night. He has a nice cock but he doesn't have a clue how to use it. Besides, I'm just not into the "just sex" thing any more."

"You didn't fuck him last night?" Rachel asked in amazement.

"No, I didn't. I sucked him off and I forced him to stay between my legs long enough to get me off with his tongue, but that was it," DeeDee confessed.

"He's not that bad," Rachel said. "You just have to take the time to train him for the night."

"You must like to be hammered more than I do, Rachel," DeeDee went on. "All you get from him is a little tongue to get you wet and then he crams it in like you should be grateful to be filled by his large dick."

"He's only seven inches or so," piped in Judy. "But you are right, he is a hopeless fuck. Phil's takes his time and I'm sure even Marge will attest that he loves to eat pussy."

"Leave me out of this," I protested. "Is that what he said?"

"He didn't have to, I've had it myself," Judy responded. "When Sam came out to tell us that DeeDee wasn't staying, Phil filled him in on what happened with you. I guess it was somehow supposed to make Sam happier by giving him something to look forward to with you."

"Oh, that's cool," I said. "Do you all really enjoy comparing notes and being graded in bed?"

I was getting pissed off again. Like I really wanted my sexuality to be a topic of discussion around the gang's dinner table. This set-up seemed more and more sordid to me. How could these educated, reasonably sophisticated women sit around and talk about who fucked who and how?

"Well Phil did say that, after he got in you, you fucked like a banshee monkey," Judy giggled.

I didn't know whether to cry or laugh. A banshee monkey? What was that? But before I could be ashamed, the others began laughing at the mental image conjured up.

"Does your husband know that?" DeeDee asked, mirth plain on her face. "What an asshole! No, Marge, we don't all sit around and talk about sexual performance. I apologize for all of us."

I guess that ended the consideration of Phil as a substitute for DeeDee. We paused as the pool waitress came by to collect our drinks and take another order.

"Let's do the sauna," I suggested. "I want to hear from Rachel about her rationale."

Rachel looked at me soberly, nodded, and stood up. We went into the female locker room to remove our swimsuits and I led the way into the female-only sauna after wrapping myself in a towel. As predicted by Judy, the sauna was empty. It was a U-shaped wood paneled room with two tiers of benches around three sides and would have held eight, so it was very commodious for the four of us.

We all sat on the upper benches. Rachel sat opposite me on her towel. DeeDee and Judy left theirs in their laps, so I was intimidated into exposing my breasts as well.

"Now you know why we wanted you to join our club," Rachel chuckled. "We needed a complete set."

My blank stare was not alone.

"Cup size! A, B, C, and D," she explained. "Or are you DD, DeeDee?"

DeeDee smiled as I looked around to confirm Rachel's estimation of our bra sizes.

"Let's move on to more important things, shall we?" I interrupted. "You can make light of it all you want, but I made an idiotic mistake last night and I need to understand what I regard as a conspiracy."

"Nobody conspired against you, Marge," Judy bristled. "And a "mistake" implies an accident or inattention. You knew what you were doing and I'm getting a little tired of you blaming us for your sleepless night. Like you didn't know that you were going to get laid when you stepped out in the hall with Phil. Be an adult! Next thing you will be telling us Phil raped you."

I glared at her. She glared back, then stood down from the top bench to spread her towel out and lay down on the bottom bench. I found myself looking at her bare ass and refocused on Rachel.

"Rachel, you seem so happily married, always talking about your husband. How could you justify cheating on him? And for four years with four different men?"

"Well, the short answer is that I wasn't getting what I wanted and needed at home," she said after a long pause. "I don't know whether I may be somewhat unique among women, but I enjoy a lot of oral sex, receiving and giving. Henry won't give me any of that, despite years of begging for it and trying everything under the sun to get him interested."

"You mean he won't even let you give him a blowjob?" Judy asked incredulously.

"No, he pees out of that thing. And guess what, I pee out of my thing too. And of course, both of those dirty sex organs are near our filthy assholes," Rachel said with disgust.

Rachel then launched into the long answer. She told us that she had first experimented with her best girlfriend at 14 and had been introduced to boys at 15. But, other than groping hands in panties and pants, she had really not got into much else until college, where she had tried every kind of oral sex that she could get her tongue on or in. She had apparently spent more time with women, rather than risking penetration by men, and began waxing eloquent on the pleasures of female flesh.

I was a little uncomfortable about her open confessions of bisexuality. I glanced at the other to see if they were affected but they both had eyes closed, enjoying the heat. Had this subject been discussed among them before? More importantly, had there been any activity between the ladies of this "club"?

"So when did you lose your cherry?" DeeDee asked.

"On my wedding night!" Rachel confessed. "That is sort of where the problem started. Saving my virginity was the worst mistake I have ever made in my life – so far."

She went on to explain that her parents, faithful Catholics, had persuaded her to promise to save herself for her husband. She realized now that this was stupid but in her family it seemed inarguable. When she had met a senior and fallen in love her first year in college, it seemed easier to save herself for him. It became easier still when her fiancé turned out to be a born-again Christian who treasured her chastity as much or more than her parents. But she had not been without sex while she spent the rest of her college career waiting for him to return from overseas military duty.

"Just fuckless," she said with a rueful grin. "But I did pretty much everything else that you can do with a man or a woman, including threesomes, foursomes, and moresomes. Hell, on a team trip to Chico State, I even ate some creampie! And I loved it. Loved it all. But little Miss Virgin saved her pussy for my someday-to-be husband, Hank."

Rachel proceeded to tell us of her sexual adventures in college in rather more detail than I would have wished. Needless to say, my experiences were pale, indeed, by comparison. I don't know whether it was her younger age or a bigger party school, but her women's athletic teams were considerably more licentious than mine. She seemed to relish sharing the memories of some girl parties in her dorm.

As she talked, Judy and DeeDee perked up, showing a rapt attention that was missing at the beginning of Rachel's explanation. Judy rolled over and sat up against the wall by the door. DeeDee spread her towel on the bench to lay on her back, her voluptuous breasts glistening with sweat as they swayed in the heat and fell to the outside of her chest. Although her eyes were hooded, she turned her head toward Rachel and raised her knees. The auburn bush nestled between her thighs was thick and curly.

I was the only one with a towel still in her lap. Rachel had lifted one foot onto the bench as she turned toward Judy's end of the sauna and leaned back against the wall. It was not a blatant display, but I saw her entirely bald vulva as she shifted. And as she closed her eyes recounting some of those events, her right hand idly slipped between her thighs. I don't know whether she was aware of her display but I began to feel an arousal similar to watching Judy with Roko.

When she started to describe a rationale for how she could also save her ass for Hank, while allowing a point guard named Keisha to fuck her back hole with a strap-on, I thought I'd better bring her back to focus. I didn't know where this was going but I was getting a little nervous.

"We're getting way too much information, Rachel," I said politely. "What I want to know is why you have cheated on your husband the past four years. By the way, what is a "creampie"?"

"A cunt filled with at least one load of semen, little Miss 39 year old Prissy," said Judy with a hint of exasperation. She too had a hand between her sweating thighs and her nipples were turgid.

"It's necessary background. Trust me," Rachel continued. "You want to know, so I have to tell it my way."

The younger woman then described how her honeymoon was an unanticipated disappointment. The intercourse had been OK when Hank could get it up for a second time but he was (and continued to be) hopeless the first time. Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am. She had been ready to explode with this first penis to enter her vagina but he had shown little interest in, or understanding of, her pleasure.

And what stunned her most was his discovered aversion to oral sex. Whenever she had tried to suck him hard again, he had pushed her away with disgust and words like "slut." She had lived her sexual life giving and receiving head, and had been utterly disoriented by abruptly having to abandon her oral pleasures. Even worse, he thought the whole sex act was dirty. He insisted that she get a washcloth to clean them both after intercourse and had never become comfortable with the bodily fluids of sex.

"Since then, I have tried everything from whipped cream to single malt scotch to get him to meet my clit and lick my pussy, but no go. He won't go to counseling. In every other respect, he is a great husband, father, and provider, and he has great prospects for a professional and even a political career. But five years without oral sex made this club very tempting."

"Oh, come on, Rachel. According to Cosmo, more than half the married women in America don't get oral sex. Surely you can't justify breaking your marriage vows because your husband doesn't eat your pussy," I said in disbelief.

"Maybe not, but I need it for more than the physical pleasure. Just like I need to love a man with my mouth and tongue," Rachel sighed.

"Yeah, and like 80 % of women in America wouldn't love to never have to give a blowjob again, assuming they had ever given one in the first place," piped in DeeDee.

"That may be true!" Rachel replied. "How many of you truly love sucking a cock? And how many of you are any good at it?"

We all remained silent. I had to admit that it was not my favorite thing to do, something I had do as a favor for Don or to get him hard when his dick got bashful and I was horny. Or to avoid intercourse with dates before marriage. But I always thought I was pretty good at it. Wasn't I? I mean I let him cum in my mouth on his birthday - at least a couple of times. Lot's of hand action though. And I never swallow of course. Yech! Nobody did. Did they?

"About what I thought. Not exactly a scientific study, but I always thought that fewer than 25 % of women really enjoyed giving head. Not to mention swallowing. Fewer even than that who are any good at it," she scoffed at us. "But, as I said, it is far more than the physical act for me."

"It's the emotional pleasure of giving to the man you love. Of being truly intimate with the one you love. Of adoring that which is most precious to him. Holding nothing back. I might be able to get along without the sex acts, but the reservation and inhibition has stunted my love in a way makes me wonder whether I love Hank anymore. Can you understand that?"

"Not really," I said. "Oral sex is oral sex. You are in a distinct minority from everything I have heard or read."

What about Phil's tongue last night? I shivered remembering that prolonged orgasm.

"But you aren't getting that intimacy from the club either. Certainly not from Sam when you started the ball rolling with the first fuck three years ago. And unless you are all holding out on me, you are not just getting oral sex here either. You are getting laid."

"You're right," she sighed. "But I'm not getting intimacy from anyone. So I guess my rationalization was simply that I wasn't getting it at home, so it was OK to enjoy physical pleasures here once a year."

"That sounds like the same old bullshit excuse for cheating, to me. Maybe a little better than most, because you tried to get him to meet your needs first. But still, you give up some freedom of action when you walk down the aisle. And what about your vows?"

"What about them? Do you know of any other contract besides a mortgage that lasts longer than 3 to 5 years – let alone a lifetime - without significant adjustment or renegotiation? Or expiration? I studied pre-law in college and had an affair with a woman lawyer last year who put some things in perspective for me."

Judy, DeeDee and I looked at each other, surprised at this new revelation. Wasn't this club supposed to be the exclusive outlet for extra-marital expression? Was she lesbian?

"Things change, assumptions that agreements are based upon turn out to be false. In my case, my husband refuses to physically love me or let me love him, as I must, to be happy. Did we ever agree that my pussy was dirty? Was that part of the marriage contract? I can truthfully say that I thought we agreed that we would physically and emotionally love each other without reservation or inhibition. That was part of MY contract, and he has not honored it."

That heartfelt speech shut me up for a while, pondering her words. I could finally see her point and knew I would wrestle with her contract analysis before the night was through. I wasn't sure that rationale could ever work for me but then again, I could have gone a long time without oral sex (at least until last night's fireworks). Sexual giving was obviously more important to her than to me, although the "new Marge" might have something to say about that.

In any event, it would do no good to condemn her. I was not going to win that argument. She had been doing it for four years, with four different men, and she didn't sound ready to give it up.

"Do you think it has affected your marriage?" I asked. We were hearing only her side of the story, but she was a thoughtful woman and I wanted to see how she fielded that one.

"To be honest, I really don't know anymore. I do believe you have to take the good with the bad in a marriage and there is a lot of good," she sighed. "But as the limitations on my emotional expression build up over the years, I wonder whether I am losing respect for him. It is clear that we were never meant to be sexual soul mates."

After a pause, she got to the nub of the question.

"I do satisfy an urge to express myself sexually with the group and I think that does take some pressure off at home. But it is becoming not enough, limiting this to once a year. Even the agreed upon limitations within the group are becoming an irritating restraint," she said glancing at Judy.

"So tell us about the lady attorney!" DeeDee interrupted, her hand drifting between her legs. "I didn't know you were a lesbo!"