Orange Moon

"Hey, let me ask you something, Pat." He carried the packages into the white shingled Victorian house. "Have you noticed something, I don't know – weird - going on with the girls today?"

"You mean they're fighting again?"

"No, nothing like that. I can't explain it." He stuck his hands in his back pocket and considered the floor. "So... nothing?"

Patrick lowered a heavy cardboard box onto the kitchen table to the sound of clinking glass. "No... but I'll tell you one thing thatisweird. There is definitely something strange about the people in this town. Have you noticed the place is like a ghost town?"

"Jane's cousin told her there's some huge event tonight that only the locals attend. Apparently, they're all pumped up for it." Brady pulled a brown, longneck bottle from the box and twisted open the cap. "It's one of those equinox celebrations you were babbling about in the car."

Here was something else that needed sorting out: Patrick. They weren't close friends by any means but Brady genuinely liked him. As spouses of best friends, their job was merely to get along. He thought Tiya and Patrick made an odd pair. She was athletic, outgoing, and vibrant. He was cerebral, reserved, and unassuming. Brady had come to appreciate his quiet manner and subtle humor even if they didn't have the same interests.

Tiya once bragged that her husband had set shot put records college. He deflected the attention in typical fashion. Yet Brady could easily see his thickly muscled build even now, more than a decade after Patrick's last competition. They sometimes worked out together and Brady enjoyed watching people's eyes pop out as Patrick added plate after plate to the barbell.

"Yeah, but a whole town attending a pagan festival? Is that not creepy to you?"

"What? Pagan...?" Brady snapped back into the moment. "Now don't get carried away, for Christ's sake. It's just a harmless local tradition." He took a long draw on his beer. "Anyway, whatever, right? As long as we have our own drinks and eats, I'm cool with it."

Two empty green bottles shifted to the muted rattle of settling cubes, their long, graceful necks submerged in a watery mixture of melting ice and wasted Chardonnay. A plastic cup bumped along the pleated linen tablecloth on the breeze, nudging half eaten platters of grilled poultry, corn, and dressed tomatoes.

Jane stood on the table, illuminated by tiny market lights, a fiery-white constellation suspended beneath the outstretched limbs of an ancient black ash. The sun had long since slipped behind the hills to the west and the sky's transformation from brilliant sapphire to solemn indigo was nearly complete. Her bare feet pushed aside abandoned bottles of beer and sidestepped a bowl of berries as she bent and struggled to pull Patrick out of his chair with two hands.

"C'mon, youhaveto dance with me" she pleaded, her loose silk camisole falling away from her braless bumps. "Look, your wife is over there dancing with a gigolo. Don't you want to make her jealous?"

Brady winked back at her and executed a perfect dip while Lenny Kravitz thumped from tree-mounted speakers. He suspended Tiya dramatically above the grass before lifting her with an effortless flourish.

"Take a look at those two." He lifted his chin toward the banquet table.

Patrick had mounted the makeshift dance floor and uncomfortably held Jane by the waist while sluggishly moving his feet. She let her head and arms fall back and swayed her shoulders and hips to the music, her short, black pencil skirt riding up her thighs. She turned to her audience and raised one eyebrow before grabbing her partner two-handed by the ass and thrusting her pelvis into his groin. Taken by surprise, Patrick looked like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"OH!" she exclaimed. "Why, sir! I'm a married woman!"

"Watch where you put those hands, Patrick," called Tiya. "I'm watching you, boy."

"Hypocrite," Brady said to her quietly. He held her closely as they moved to the haunting melody, his hands cruising over her painted-on dress as if compelled by some outside force.

"Mmmm... have I ever told you I adore tall, strong men?" A piquant essence of wine cut her sweet breath.

"So we're not gonna talk about this?"

"About what?" She smiled at him dreamily.

"Jesus, Tee, about what. About whathappened." He lowered his voice to something approximating a whisper. "Today? The car?"

"Ohhhhhh..." She pulled her long arms tightly around his neck and tilted her head. "Did you like that?"

"Did I..." He fixed his gaze on Jane. She and Patrick were slow dancing now, her head resting on his chest. "Of course I did. That's beside the point."

"What point?"

He looked at her again and saw a string of lights in her smoky, amber eyes. She wriggled closer, as if that were even possible, and he felt the crush of her breasts against his chest. Brady realized they were barely moving now. He felt a familiar, insistent pulse between his legs and pressed a hand into the small of her back. She warmed him with a long release of breath. Here we go again, he told himself.

"Point?"

Her body felt vital and light in his arms. He enjoyed her height, impressive even after she'd kicked off her wedges; her eyes just a few inches below his. Her mouth, her dark rose lips... it would be so easy. His hand caressed the satin skin of her shoulder and slid beneath her hair to collar her neck. Her body relaxed and lips separated. The glint of amusement had left her eyes, replaced by something that sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

Brady knew the truth about that afternoon. He'd spun Jane around the instant they entered their room. She had barely time enough to raise her hands and brace herself before she slammed into the closing door. He dropped his jeans, and with a violent yank, her tights and panties were bunched below her knees. He grabbed her wrists and planted her palms high above her head.Keep your hands on that fucking door.He spread his legs wide and jerked up her hips. She twisted her Reeboks and groaned when he sank into her. He raked his wife over and over as her skinny arms trembled and strained, her loud grunts and gasps barely registering until he emptied himself inside her. He knew the truth. It was Tiya he was fucking.

"You said something about..."

He lifted his gaze to observe his wife and found her eyes waiting for him. She pursed her lips, turning them up at the corners. Trouble, he thought. Her hands ran up Patrick's back to hook his mountainous shoulders as they danced, and she whispered something that made him laugh. His meaty hands traced the contour of her small, round buns. She seemed to disappear into his massive chest.

"About...?"

Jane and Patrick were so different, she with her lissome form and he with his prodigious breadth, they seemed oddly in balance. His black, silk shirt hanging loosely over pressed white chinos, Patrick was dark wherever Jane was light. A silver spaghetti strap slipped off her creamy shoulder, the skimpy garment exposing the pale side of her breast. Brady saw her shiver visibly when Patrick's hand slid up her arm and replaced it, keeping one finger tucked beneath the coiled thread.

"You're hard again," Tiya whispered, her pubic bone moving side to side against the outline of Brady's rigid cock. "I like that."

Jane watched her husband closely while she mirrored the movement of Patrick's hips. They made a striking pair, she thought, Tiya with her long, elegant lines and Brady with his sleek, athletic build. They had danced through Patrick's playlist with easy grace but now prowled around each other slowly, locked in a predatory embrace. Tiya had said something to him, something that made him stop and lower his hands to her hips. Jane smiled. Her friend was doing her job well.

Patrick's groan vibrated in her chest. He was watching, too, she realized, his fingers moving tenderly over her back. The bulge that pressed against her abdomen signaled her own success. She had the sensation of being swallowed up by the sheer mass of him, the span of his shoulders, the thickness of his arms and legs. Jane slithered against him to the sensual throb of the music, the textured silk of her top teasing her little nubs until they glowed with electric heat.

His body was so different from her husband's. Jane had always been attracted to lean, cut body types. She had drawn a bead on Brady the first time she saw him pull himself out of the pool at her club. She could almost smell the chlorine, thinking about the sheet of water that slid off his taut muscles and the long, skin-tight Speedo that left little to the imagination. She had waited outside the men's locker room nearly thirty minutes before she was able to accidently bump into him and spill the contents of her briefcase all over the floor.

Patrick was about average height and stocky, not at all the type that would normally catch her eye. The relaxed fit clothes he favored and his soft spoken manner belied the coiled power of his extraordinary muscles. Every part of him was thick and solid, her hand looking hopelessly tiny when she tried to squeeze his trunk-like bicep. She felt like a captive in his incontestable hold. Something deep seated and primal was at work, heating her skin and making her pussy tingle.

"They look good together," Jane said, feeling the brush of his rugged, low cut beard against her cheek.

"She likes your husband." His hand surprised her, slipping beneath her camisole. "You know that, right?"

She watched a single leaf float from darkened heights to join a pastiche of reds and golds across the white cloth beneath her feet.

"Do you think...?"

"No," he answered quickly. His fingers traveled downward, kneading the flesh along her spine. "I would know."

First alarm, then excitement filled her chest and her heart began to race.

"Patrick... Tiya is going to talk to you ..." She realized this wouldn't make any sense to him. "Just say yes."

She closed her eyes and tried to relax, moving to the slow, relentless beat of the bass. The rhythmic rubbing of his cock and the determined action of his hands were affecting her now, flipping unseen switches that caused a flutter in the pit of her stomach and made her nipples swell. She hadn't expected this.

Her pulse leaped when she saw her husband drop his hand and grip the hem of Tiya's tiny dress. He slowly raised it, just reaching the swell of her cheek. The impulse to stop him was immediate but a part of her, some crazy part she never knew existed, wanted him to pull the slinky thing right over her best friend's head. They were silent, mouths just inches apart, eyes locked. Jane was frozen, not knowing what to expect or even knowing what she wanted, when he brought his mouth to Tiya's ear and moved his lips. A broad smile broke slowly over her face when he kissed her cheek, allowing the black fabric to slip back in place.

"This is dangerous," Patrick said under his breath, stepping away from Jane.

Tiya approached with Brady in tow. Jane didn't miss the lump beneath the tight, black denim.

"Your husband thinks this is a good time to change partners." She rolled her eyes and fanned her face with her hand. "He might be right about that."

"That was an interesting dance, guys." Jane took a step off the table and landed in her husband's arms, her heart still pounding. "You'll need to teach me that one, stud."

Brady sat his bride on the table and retrieved two frost crusted bottles from the cooler. He spun a folding chair around and sat in front of her. Scooting to the table's edge, she planted her feet on his knees and took a beer from his hand.

"Are you having a good time, honey?" She watched their friends move into the shadows hand in hand.

"Baby, it's been an interesting day." He took a long pull from the bottle and placed it on the ground.

The giant, rising curve of the harvest moon silhouetted a distant line of trees behind him, its orange light casting a soft glow over his shoulders and hair. She shuddered as his hands traced a slow path over her smooth calves and caressed the skin of her thighs. Tiny lights sparkled in his eyes when he looked up and gave her a knowing smile. Her stomach tightened and pussy clenched when he pulled her onto his lap.

"Let me take you to bed, Janie."

She held his face in her hands and move her eyes inches from his. "There's something I want to ask you first."

Brady clasped his hands behind his head and studied the flowering vines that covered the walls around him. He wondered absently if they were actual representations of native flora or just some wallpaper designer's impressions in rose, green, and mauve. From beyond a narrow doorway came the sound of splattering water and the squeak of a tap. Something metal clinked on the floor and he heard his wife swear.

He could easily have missed it. In fact, he probably had at first. But there it was, a modest, respectful knock and a murmur from the hallway. He bolted upright on the bed, silently cursing the sudden tightness in his chest.

"Janie."

She poked her head from the bathroom, working a toothbrush in her foamy mouth. "Well?" She raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the door. "Let them in, dummy."

Tiya and Patrick entered with subdued greetings and uneasy glances around the room. Brady felt the need to give Tiya an awkward peck on the cheek, wondering if that was the accepted etiquette after one gropes and nearly undresses a woman in front of her husband. His answer came with a smirk from Patrick and a six-pack of water bottles shoved into his chest.

Tiya had changed from her sizzling club attire to a soft, summery dress that revealed the subtle movements of her breasts. Brady followed her eyes to the two full size beds that sat side by side, separated only by the width of an early American nightstand. He just then realized Jane hadn't reserved a room with an oversized four-poster as she normally did in this kind of place. No, two beds would be needed on this trip.

"Hey guys. Make yourselves at home." Jane motioned toward the roomy, overstuffed loveseats facing the foot of each bed. She had forsaken her tight skirt for a pair of tap shorts that matched the provocative cami she had worn all evening. "Honey, why don't you pour a glass of wine for everyone?"

"Don't you look comfortable, Jane?" Tiya's eyes crinkled as she sat down and draped a leg over her husband's substantial thigh.

Brady said a silent prayer of thanks as he handed the ladies their champagne. Jane's slinky lingerie was having its intended effect. He had been too proud to confess his sudden bout of performance anxiety to his wife. He'd never had a problem rising to the moment before but the unexpected prospect of erection on demand in front of an audience, friends no less, had his heart racing for the last thirty minutes. He was relieved that his wife's girlish curves and precocious tail produced a glow of heat in his penis and a familiar pressure deep in his abdomen.

Patrick's eyes moved over Jane when she sat on the bed and crossed her lightly muscled legs, his fingers absently caressing the skin above his wife's knee. Handing him a glass, Brady understood exactly what Patrick wanted. He wanted to see Jane staked out naked on the sheets, to see the excited pink tips of her little white breasts, and to see her sweet, wet cunt spread wide. Brady's eyes met Tiya's as he sat next to Jane. Yes, he understood perfectly well.

"To good friends," said Jane, raising her glass, "and an unforgettable evening."

They each took a sip of champagne and glanced tight lipped at one another. As if on cue, they all exhaled with nervous laughter.

"Okay, girls, this is your party," Brady said, leaning forward to place his glass on the desk next to Patrick. "How does this work?"

Tiya jumped in. "Well, since this was originally Janie's idea, why don't you guys start?" She pinched her lower lip between her teeth and looked at Patrick before continuing shakily. "We talked it over and... and we would just like to watch for a while."

"Oh. I thought..." Jane turned her eyes to her husband with an unspoken, desperate plea for his help. "I guess that's... um... okay?"

Brady melted. After all her naughty little plans and secret connivances, it was his strength that she needed now. He knew she had planned this as a special treat for them to share and he loved her for it, even if he wasn't convinced it was a good idea. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head before tilting her chin upward.

"Is this what you want, baby?"

He felt her tremble as she nodded her head. "Mmm-hmm."

Tiya watched Brady take Jane's lower lip gently into his mouth and lift her hands. She slowly unbuttoned his cotton shirt while her eyelids fluttered in his confident embrace. Flattening her palms on the taut skin of his chest, she drew them apart and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He stretched his arms behind him and she helped him wriggle out of the sleeves without breaking the current of their long, tender kiss. They looked like they had done this a thousand times.

Tiya felt both thrilled and embarrassed as her friends allowed her to witness their intimate movements. She'd had her doubts when Jane approached her with the idea. She couldn't help feeling they were playing with fire but, as the weekend approached, she became more and more excited. At night she imagined Brady watching her with those warm, brown eyes as her husband stripped her naked before him. She strummed her clit while lying awake, thinking about his cock and what it would look like coated in the slippery gloss of Jane's cunt.

That she was attracted to Brady, she could not deny. Not to herself. And she knew with every fiber in her body that the attraction was mutual. She loved her husband and she loved Jane. Even so, she worried about her ability to resist him should he take her by the hand one dark night. She felt like a moon unable to escape the essential gravity of a beautiful, shining planet.

Jane moved to his jeans, unsnapping the metal rivets one by one. Brady leaned back on his hands and she pressed forward against his chest, fingers busily at work. Tiya felt her heart surge with each metallic click.

When their lips finally parted Brady was naked from the waist up. He was all lean muscle and bone, his shoulders and biceps carved in da Vinci-like detail. Jane was taking long breaths and her face was flushed, her eyes searching his for direction. Brady flashed that rakish smile of his and silently urged her to her feet. She was close enough for Tiya to see the faint tremble of her shoulders and mouth. Jane attempted a smile but her friend was too mesmerized to respond.

"Relax, baby." He stood behind her and put his mouth to her ear. "It's just me. Let yourself go."

Brady ran his hands down the length of her bare arms, tiny blonde hairs standing at attention as they passed. Jane's tremble became a shiver when his fingers found the outline of hard nipples poking through the delicate fabric. She inhaled with a sharp hiss and arched her back when he slowly scraped his fingernails over the bristling points. Brady looked directly into Tiya's eyes while he continued Jane's sweet torture, her head thrown back against his chest.

His open jeans hung low, miraculously clinging to his narrow hips. Every movement brought them lower, revealing the grey fabric of his boxer briefs. Tiya stared intently, as if willing them to fall. When finally they pooled around his bare feet, she felt a sudden warm release and knew her panties would soon be soaked.

Patrick took Tiya's glass from her hand and placed it on the desk next to his. He reached around her shoulder to pull her close and cup her breast. She unconsciously stroked his thigh, feeling his heat radiate through his clothes.