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Mary smiles. 'Only if I can watch,' she says.
As I have already mentioned, Mary and Lynn have known of each other for several years. But, prior to this night, they have never actually met. And yet, perhaps somewhat surprisingly, they click. We all click.
'You hear that?' Lynn says. 'The birthday girl wants a performance. Nay... the birthday girl commands a performance. We must not disappoint her. But no pressure.' And she laughs.
No pressure? As exciting as the situation is, I am no longer eighteen. 'I may need another sip of brandy first,' I say. 'I may need a moment of recovery time.'
We all take another sip. And then Lynn and I move closer and I reach down for her honeypot.
Mary keeps her lower lips smooth with a 'crewcut' above. But Lynn has a full bush. Full, and yet soft. In fact, Lynn's is the softest bush I have ever known. And, courtesy of my darling wife's ministrations, it is also now deliciously damp. 'Ah, yes,' I say softly, 'still the hair of an angel.'
Lynn laughs.
'So... how are we going to do this?' I ask.
'Give the dog a bone?' Lynn suggests.
Yes. I think doggy-style was always our favourite position. Lynn positions herself with her knees on the edge of The Great Bed of Crangle, her thighs slightly spread. Her arse is probably a little more padded than it was the last time that I took up my position astern of her. But, if anything, that just makes it even more attractive.
As I reach forward and run my fingers along Lynn's slippery slot, my cock remembers why it is there. It is growing even as I watch. I smear my helmet head with Lynn's cunt juices and spread her arse cheeks. 'Is everything OK in the member's stand?' I ask Mary who is watching on.
Mary smiles and nods.
Then I am in. And, while I cannot swear that it is just like old times, there are certainly enough similarities to bring the memories flooding back.
That night, for the first time in my life, I sleep between two naked middle-aged women. And the following morning we begin planning our next 'weekend getaway'.
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