tagHumor & SatireMatched Pairs Ch. 03-04

Matched Pairs Ch. 03-04



The process of accommodating four adults through a single bathroom was a major task. It began at ten and required nearly an hour. Fred and Maggie, as hosts, allowed Pat and Charlie to go first. Fred did his part by staying out of the way. He had half a beer to finish and the air was a warm and pleasant. He stood on the dock and listened to the night.

The two bedrooms were arranged such that they shared a common wall. Fred was the last to finish in the bathroom. Charlie and Pat had been in bed for nearly a half hour before he slipped into his and Maggie's room. Maggie was sitting in bed waiting for him, reading a magazine. Fred stripped down to his boxers.

"Do I need these?" he asked, holding up his pajama bottoms.

"Oh, I don't think so!" purred Maggie in her coquette voice. "I won't let you get cold."

Fred hooked his thumb in his underwear and tugged them down in one motion. He unabashedly stood beside the bed, letting Maggie watch him hardening. At the same time, Maggie leaned forward and pulled her cotton nightgown over her head. In the brief glimpse that she allowed him, Fred viewed her firm breasts with appreciation and looked forward to touching them and tongue-lashing her nipples. She turned out the light and Fred climbed in and reached over to embrace her.

It was warm enough that they didn't require any covers. After the lights were out Maggie pushed away the sheet. They lay there nude, embracing each other, sharing a kiss from time to time. Maggie felt warm and good. Fred could tell from the relaxation of her body into his that her mind was on him. Any irritations of the day were past. After a while their tenderness was adequately expressed. As they continued kissing, passion replaced affection. Soon, their tongues were dancing. Fred reached with one hand and cupped a breast. Maggie made no sound, but her body insisted on more of the same.

Their lovemaking was suddenly interrupted by a mysterious thumping sound. It seemed to shake the whole cabin. Maggie sat up and Fred rolled onto his back—pre-coitus interruptus.

"Is that the water pump?" Maggie asked. "Maybe you had better go take a look at it."

The thumping began again. It had a regular beat. Thump—thump—thump.

"Aren't you going to get up?" Maggie insisted. "If you don't, Charlie will, and they're our guests."

Fred's erection had faded with the vexing interruption.

"I don't think that Charlie will be getting up," Fred assured her. He was huffing and puffing in an irritated disgust.

The sound started again, but with a different rhythm. Thump—thump, thump, thump—thump—thump, thump, thump.

"What's going on?" Maggie demanded.

"Charlie won't get up because what you're hearing is my ex-wife riding on top of Charlie and the headboard of the bed hitting the wall," Fred sighed.

"No, I'm sure that's not true" whispered Maggie in the darkness, but she didn't sound convinced.

It started again. The beat was accompanied by a musical embellishment. Thump—owwww—thump, thump—ahhhh—thump, ohhhh. It was a woman's voice singing in a high octave. Maggie recognized it muffled through the wall.

"Maybe they're making a new CD. With this new rap music, anything goes. I wouldn't suggest turning it into a video, though." Fred was at his sarcastic best.

"Well, we did let them into the bathroom first," Maggie pointed out. "C'mon, we'll just ignore it." She turned to caress Fred's softened penis.

"How can you ignore that?" Fred growled under his breath. "I can't concentrate!"

The thumping and singing continued unabated. The beat would change occasionally—it became louder.

Maggie gently stroked her hand over Fred's chest. She whispered into his ear so that he could hear her over the sounds from the wall.

"From the sounds of things, I think that they're almost done," Maggie giggled. "It kind of turns me on."

She was right. The thumping stopped and there was a final, prolonged, note from Pat. Then there was silence.

"All right," Maggie whispered to Fred. "It's our turn now."

"The mood is ruined!" Fred snorted. "I'm too distracted to get hard again."

"Oh, Fred, don't say that. It was going so nicely," Maggie pleaded.

"How long were they at it, anyway?" Fred asked.

"I would say it was ten minutes—at least the thumping on the walls," Maggie answered.

Fred let out and exasperated sigh. Maggie turned on her side and softly stroked the sensitive skin of his scrotum and his softened penis.

"That would be nothing for you," she said in a low voice.

"What do you mean?" Fred asked.

"You know," Maggie prodded gently "You always last longer than that!"

"Not including foreplay?"

"No, foreplay would be extra," Maggie assured him.

Fred didn't answer, but Maggie felt him draw a deep breath. He made a little 'hmmph' sound as he thought about what Maggie said. She continued her massage. Soon he was pressing his pelvis up into her skillful hand, getting harder. Finally, he was fully engorged. Maggie rolled onto her back and nudged him to signal him to mount her.

When it was over—thirteen minutes later—Fred collapsed on top of his wife, his energy spent.

"That was well-worth the wait," she purred in his ear.

They were ready for sleep and the day ahead.


In the morning the couples rose in reverse order to their previous night's retiring. Maggie put on her bathrobe and started to cook some bacon and then began mixing pancake batter. Fred put on the coffee pot. He was wearing his swim trunks and a T-shirt. He didn't bring his Speedos. It promised to be another hot day. He felt like playing golf, but knew that the others would want to spend some time on the lake. He went down to the dock to check on the boat.

Pat emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing her bathrobe, too. It was obvious, judging from the outlines of their flanks and breasts, that neither woman wore anything underneath their robes. She gave Maggie a hand by setting the table. Charlie came out soon wearing a pair of shorts and a polo shirt. He joined Fred on the dock. Fred showed him around the boat and they discussed fishing spots they could try.

Soon they were at the table for breakfast.

"The pancakes are good, Maggie," Charlie said "I'm hungry enough to eat a horse!"

"Why, thank you, Charlie," Maggie replied. She was happy that the day was starting on a good note.

"There's something in this mountain air that gets the appetite up," Pat added.

"Especially at night!" agreed Fred. "You can really work up a big appetite then."

"You must have heard us last night," Charlie said. "We're sorry. It's hard to remember that we're not in complete privacy, especially when the atmosphere is so good."

Fred gave his hand a slight wave, as if to say no big deal.

"A little investment of ten minutes is well worth it. Charlie is such an animal," Pat boasted, rejecting Charlie's implied apology.

Maggie blushed and looked down at her plate. She knew that Fred would be quick to respond.

"You're so right, Pat," he answered. "In our case, it was thirteen minutes." There were seconds of silence around the table. Maggie rolled her eyes. Charlie looked confused.

Fred broke the silence. "...but who's counting?"

"It sounds as if you are," Pat retorted.

"Behave, children!" Maggie scolded.

"Well, I have no complaints about Charlie's..." argued Pat.

"It doesn't matter!" scolded Maggie. "Aren't we both lucky to have such virile men for husbands?"

"We would know from experience!" quipped Pat.

Maggie sensed Pat's manipulative talents coming to the fore. Fred looked smug because he had made his point with only the slightest slap on the wrist. She used the occasion to get the husbands' blood up.

Fred suggested a boat tour around the lake.

"Sounds good to me!" Maggie said. "Pat and I will put our swim suits on as soon as we get the dishes done.

Charlie went into the bedroom to put on his trunks and Fred disappeared to the dock.

"Do you think that it's time for the special 'razor cut' bikinis?" Maggie asked, referring to the most daring of the triad that they bought for the trip.

"No," Pat replied. "They just had a big night and it's too early in the morning. Besides, sitting in Fred's boat isn't the most flattering of positions to show our stuff. Let's give them the one-piece for starters. We've got to save something for later."

Charlie had already joined Fred at the dock when Pat and Maggie paraded from the cabin, the shorter Pat in the lead—Maggie falling in step behind. They didn't hustle down, just sauntered slowly to the dock. Each wore one of their husband's cotton shirts over their suits, which extended to mid-thigh and hid the details from the men.

"Hey, that's one of my best shirts!" Charlie protested.

"Mine, too!" Fred added.

The women ignored them. Instead, they stood side by side on the dock. Slowly, so slowly, they unbuttoned the cotton shits. They peered from behind their sunglasses to see if their husbands were watching. It didn't matter which husband was watching which wife.

"How long does a trip around the lake take?" Pat asked Maggie in a sultry voice.

"Not too long," Maggie answered, matching Pat in sultriness. "I would say about thirteen minutes!"

They glanced at their husbands, and then each other, deciding that they were finally receiving the attention they deserved. Only then, they unfastened the final button and slid the shirts from their shoulders.

Although they wore one-piece suits, they were far from dowdy. Maggie's was a black and white print with a halter tie and a neckline that plunged nearly to her navel. She turned a little sideways to show its high cut on the side. Pat's suit was navy blue. Its neckline was scooped low in front to display her premium cleavage. The sides were cut high like Maggie's, which had the effect of making her curvy hips even more noticeable and her legs appear longer than they were.

"We better put on sun-screen," said Maggie.

Pat bent from the waist to pick up the bottle of lotion at her feet. The muscles of her legs stretched and were on display. They looked good. She squeezed a dollop into her hand and handed the bottle to Maggie who did the same.

"Where did you get that suit, Maggie? I haven't seen it before," Fred asked.

"I just bought it for this trip," Maggie replied. "You'll see it on the credit card bill at the end of the month.

"Well, I like it," Fred complimented. "Just don't wear it anywhere public."

"Fred! Don't be a prude. Would you want me too look dowdy?" Maggie asked.

"I'd prefer something between dowdy and what you have on," he answered, trying in vain to show authority.

Maggie frowned.

"Well, make sure that if do wear it in public, it's an adults only beach."

"I'm wearing a new suit, too, Charlie, or were you too busy looking at Maggie's to notice?" Pat scolded.

"I did notice!" Charlie insisted, but otherwise kept silent.

"You don't sound convincing." Pat accused. "I'll give you a chance to make it up to me later"

Like two dancers performing a routine, the women reached low to their ankles, spreading the sun cream on their legs. They slowly worked their way up their calves to their knees and paused. They did one leg and then the other. They got another dollop and started on their thighs. They worked their hands around in circles while the men watched, slowly approaching the very tops where they had carefully shaved one another a few days before.

As she nearly finished her second leg, Pat slowed her hand movements and let out a long, audible sigh. She looked into Charlie's eyes with her lips parted slightly. Charlie's jaw hung agape. "Can you do me?" she called out wistfully.

Charlie, in an obedient trance, began to step off the boat and onto the dock. Maggie interrupted.

"Of course!" she matter-of-factly answered, and massaged some lotion into Pat's back as she turned around. Charlie, startled, hopped back into the boat. It rocked from side to side with Fred struggling to stabilize it. Pat repeated the favor for Maggie. They finished by spreading sun-block on their arms and then reached out their hands for their husbands to help them into the boat. Maggie noticed that Fred had turned slightly to the side as if to hide something.

At first Fred had Maggie sit in the bow of the boat and Pat and Charlie sit side by side on the middle seat. Fred would man the motor at the stern. He realized right away that it was a bad setup. The bow rode too high in the water and the boat listed to Charlie's side. Fred put Charlie in the bow and the women side-by-side- in the middle seat.

The boat was a little overloaded and rode low in the water. It was a calm day, so Fred knew that if he took it slow they would be able to make the tour and return without swamping. The seating arrangement gave Fred a chance to get an eyeful in stereo. Pat and Maggie couldn't move around in the small boat.

They sat facing Fred in their new revealing bathing suits. Their skin shone with sun-block lotion and their eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. Fred's eyes were hidden by sunglasses, too. After their display on the dock, he surmised that Pat and Maggie were expecting a secret inspection. For a few seconds Fred worried about Charlie in the bow. He hoped that his unobstructed view of their seated behinds would be enough to satisfy him. He only worried briefly and then banished the concern. Charlie would have to fend for himself.

Fred steered the boat, slowly tracing the shore about one hundred yards out. At the speed he was going, and in the heat of the day, he knew that he wouldn't be able to survey the entire lake. He decided to go to the point where the river departs the lake. He knew of a place where they could swim if they chose. He figured they could get there and back in about an hour and a half.

As the boat edged its way along the shoreline the women started to relax. Tightly clenched thighs loosened and spread slightly apart. The sight of a leg pressing against the leg of their seatmate was erotic. It drew Fred's gaze in further, into the vee formed at the apex of their two thighs. He looked each woman up and down several times. He was reminded of Pat's scar on her knee from her old operation. He hadn't seen it in years. It reminded him of some their days together.

When he was satisfied that he had seen all he could below their waists, Fred allowed his eyes to travel upward. His eyes riveted on the necklines of the two women from behind his sunglasses. The surveillance was more entertaining. While their lower parts had been erotic, after a few minutes Fred realized that the portfolio was one dimensional. The top offering was very different.

As they turned to view a different part of the shoreline, or turn their heads to speak to one another, or better yet turn completely around to speak to Charlie in the bow, their angle and coverage would constantly change. Given the revealing nature of their suits, Fred was sure that their entire front package above the waist would be revealed to him in due course. Fred became more skillful, pointing out sights in various directions when he wanted them to turn in a certain direction.

From time to time the nipples of each woman would stiffen and show through the fabric of her suit. Maggie was the most exposed in this regard. She needed little support with her small breasts, so the fabric of her suit was thinner.

Fred wondered if the stiffness was due to their excitement because they knew they were exposed to him. Could they tell that he was taking advantage from behind his shades? Their expressions offered no clues, but their antics on the dock made Fred believe that some aspect of display was on their minds. At one point Pat bent low from the waist to clasp her ankles for no apparent reason. The scooped neckline of her suit fell forward, exposing her beautiful fruit. She held the pose for telltale seconds, bolstering Fred's suspicions.

"I bet you girls are getting hot," Fred called out over the sound of the outboard motor. The women didn't respond. He guided the boat to a nearby inlet. "This little cove is a good place for swimming." He had decided to see if the view would change with wet suits. "Why don't you go in? Just slip over the side carefully, one at a time."

Pat and Maggie looked at each other and decided to take Fred up on the offer. Fred turned off the motor. After some maneuvering, they were swimming around the boat.

"Go ahead and jump in, Charlie!" Fred offered, but he declined. The two men were content to watch the women cool themselves in the waters of the lake.

They were soon ready to get back in the boat. Fred and Charlie helped lift them back in. Just as Fred had imagined, the wet fabric of their suits accentuated the contours of their bodies, and they presented a tempting display. The women resumed their seats in the boat, except that that they turned toward Charlie, their back to Fred for the return trip to the dock.

"It's Charlie's turn for the show. I hope that he takes advantage." Fred said to himself. It confirmed his suspicions that the wives had put themselves on display.

"Let's go back to the cabin. By the time we get there it will time for lunch." Fred said, and they all agreed.


"Do you think it's worth the risk?" Charlie asked, partly to Fred and partly to himself. "If this goes wrong, it will be worse than not trying anything at all."

"You're right!" Fred agreed. "But if we pull it off it could be the best moment of the vacation; and I think we can do it if we keep our cool and work together. Well—it will be one of the best memories, anyway."

Fred wouldn't forget the first night's ten-minute bedstead overture or the bathing suit ballet on the dock the next morning, either. What they were planning, however, would top all that.

"Alright, let's do it!" Charlie said. He turned to the man behind the counter. "Let us have four good ones, please."

"Fishing not too good this morning, guys?" the counterman queried. Fred and Charlie mournfully shook their heads. They had done everything right. Early morning rise, off to the spot that the owner of the tackle shop suggested.

"You're sure to find Smallmouth there," he assured them as they bought their fishing licenses. "Try these." He sold them two bass plugs each.

There was a mist on the surface of the water as Fred guided boat the across the lake. Fresh in their minds were their wives' skeptical taunts the night before and the way they snuggled up to them as the alarm clocks sounded, testing their charms against the call of the wild with their warm bodies pressed against their men in the early morning chill. But, the men would not be dissuaded.

The women's ploys raised the stakes. To return with an insufficient catch would have raised guffaws from the women and the requirement for the men to make amends before they could resume 'normal relations'. The men would never admit it, but they needed a break from horizontal maneuvers. The supercharged women were wearing them out.

They drifted short of the drop-off, casting just short of the reeds. They might have felt a couple of hits, but no Smallmouth materialized. A few perch hooked themselves—or perhaps the same perch hooked itself a few times—but they had promised to bring home Bass. Perch would have been good eating, but they couldn't settle for less than what they promised. They tried three spots. Finally, the sun was too high in the sky to really hope for much.

"Do you want me to take off the heads and tails?" the man behind the counter offered.

"No, no!" exclaimed Fred. "Just leave them as they are."

"You're going to tell your wives that you caught them, aren't you?" the counterman grinned.

Fred and Charlie smirked and shrugged.

"That's okay!" the counterman laughed. "Come back and catch some tomorrow too! We get 'em in fresh every morning."

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