Sandy Ch. 04

"'Yeah, I liked that, that you did," I said: 'I was feeling a little funny about having encouraged him to hold mine with you there, but it just happened, seemed like the most natural thing to do.' Viv snorted again and agreed: 'Yeah, I guess. It sure turned me on, and then he was rubbing his glass on me, and I knew he could feel that I was aroused. ... Oh, it was fine, certainly not how I expected the evening to end,' and she smiled."

"Sounds like we all had a good time, then," I replied: "... On the way home, I was wondering what happened after I left."

"I bet, but it was good, okay."

"Um-hmm, kind of makes me wonder what could happen next time."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that! Yeah, what? Starting where we left off? That's what usually happens, ... well, after a date that has gone to second base."

We both chuckled, and then with a glance at each other, snickered slightly at the implication.

Sandy suggested that we have another hot dog, so we found a stand and then went back towards our building. It occurred to me to continue the topic with the remark that we both had seemed to have hit a home run on our first date, but Sandy had changed the subject. We parted and went back to work.

When I wasn't busy, my thoughts returned to Sandy's story, finding it good - real good - that Vivienne hadn't seemed to be upset by what happened - had even enjoyed it - and been willing to discuss it with Sandy. What would - could - happen if we three got back together? Or would Vivienne avoid that? Sandy was right, "Starting where we left off?" seemed difficult to envisage, but the logical assumption. Was that what Sandy expected - wanted? She had suggested that I include Vivienne, ... and hadn't minded my kissing her, even encouraging me by holding my cock. Hm-hmm! She just couldn't keep her hand off it when she was aroused, and she loved to have her nipples caressed, ... Vivienne, too. What would she be thinking about a "next time?" Oh, I knew what I had - last night!

That evening I had dinner at home, and then played scrabble with my sister in the library. When she wanted to use a four-letter word, snickering softly, I said that she couldn't, that maybe one of our parents would come and check on the progress of the game. And our dad did just that, resting his hand on her shoulder as he looked at the board and asked about the score, and then said that he was pleased that we seemed to be getting on so well together. My sister agreed without looking up at him, smirking at me as she moved her letters. When he left us, she asked in a whisper what I had done the previous evening.

"Just had dinner together. She couldn't," I replied softly. She snorted with a grin and replied:

"I was real lucky," and smirked. Then we finished the game, and she went to bed.

Eventually, I did too, lying there and trying to imagine a scenario of a "next time" with Vivienne and Sandy, but fell asleep with no realistic solution.