The Devil Comes Out at Night Pt. 05

It wasn't difficult for me to pretend I shouldn't be doing what I was doing; all I had to do was glance at the wedding ring that was on the finger of my hand as I held the base of Bob's big cock. As my mouth worked the first four or five inches of him I thought about his work as a church Elder, the nice way he dressed for Sunday service, and the readings he did once in a while at the pulpit. I thought about what a beautiful couple he and Jeana are, a happy husband and wife. I thought about how happily married I am, and how handsome my Donald looks at church when he ushers.

"Ohhh, Margaret!" Bob whispered, looking down at his cock in my mouth. "I've dreamt of this."

"This is wrong, Bob. We really shouldn't," I said, gently stroking the wet shaft. "My God, you're...so hard."

My mouth took him in again, hungrier. I felt the Devil in the room, feeding me with lusty energy.

Bob held my head gently in his hands, and he was moaning, silently, under his breath. "I need to touch you, Margaret. I need to taste you."

"We shouldn't," I said, as his cock slipped from my lips. "We can't."

"We need to. You know we do."

I stood slowly, holding his cock in my hand. I was drawn to the pure lust in his eyes and I kissed him, quietly moaning. His hands roamed on my hips and ass and dragged my dress upward, the hem rising up my thighs until it was above my new sexy lace panties. His hands were all over them.

"So beautiful," he mumbled in my mouth.

"I've never felt a man so hard before," I said, squeezing the hugeness of his hot shaft in my hand. "I had no idea you were so big."

"It's all for you, Margaret," he said in a breathless whisper. "I need to fill you. Will you turn around for me? Will you let me fuck you?"

I turned and bent over his desk. He pulled my panties down, all the way. He lifted one of my feet out of them but left them around my other ankle. He spread my feet apart, widening my legs. My body and my mind were electric with the thrill of it when his hands slid up the backs of my legs. His face pressed against my ass and his mouth tasted my pussy. I wanted him there, like that, but he stood, and his hard cock entered me.

I thought of the first time, how huge and overwhelmingly filling he is, and my lungs gave up their fight and a deep moan escaped from me.

"Quiet, Margaret!" Bob whispered. "Jeana might hear you!"

Easy for you to say, I thought, as the intensity of his fucking began. You try being quiet when a man like you fucks you; you won't find it easy, I'll tell you that!

It was a silent fuck, just breathy huffs and wild lust, the way cheating people would do, and it took me to that place of orgasmic beauty that I adore; an alternate reality where God and the Devil are best friends, the two of them egging me on, with smiles and wide voyeuristic eyes on their faces. My orgasm was huge, and when I was still flying high from it Bob gushed his cum in my mouth, holding his ecstatic groans inside him in near silence. He'd just fucked the church secretary, and I could see the wild thrill of it in his eyes.

It went on that way for an hour, gradually getting naked, having whispery quiet sex that was intensified because of it. There was no noise from downstairs. The cheating felt real, and my orgasms were intensely, silently powerful.

We went downstairs and found Jeana and Donald naked and snuggly on the couch. We all snacked and had a drink, acting a little strange, and then we all went to the Smythe's big bed and had a beautiful, loving fourway.

"How was your time alone with Jeana," I asked, on the way home in the car, feeling a little sheepish about the topic.

"Oh. It was good," my man-of-few-words husband said.

"It was good? Don't you think we should talk about it? If we're going to do these real couple swap situations it all needs to be open to keep things healthy."

"I know," he said, keeping his eyes on the dark road. "She...surprised me a little. It was roll playing, from the moment you and Bob went upstairs."

"Let me guess; you guys were cheating on us. A secret affair."

Donald glanced over at me, and then back at the road. "How did you know?" he said. "Did Bob tell you?"

"No. We did the same thing. He led me right into it and I...I played along. It was odd. Did you find it odd?"

"I did. Uncomfortable at first. I wanted to tell her it was wrong, but...it was just so sexy and...exciting."

Donald didn't look at me when he said it. There was a little shame in his voice, and I understood it. I felt a little ashamed of what I'd done, too. "I wondered why I couldn't hear you two," I said. "Jeana's always pretty vocal when she's with you."

"She kept shushing me, with a really amazing look on her face. She's a good actress. So you and Bob...what went on?"

"He took me to his office, the way he might at a cocktail party, and he seduced me, and...I let him. I gave him a blowjob, all dressed, with just one little light on. It was like in the movies, dark and shadowy, with the wife downstairs with her guests. I fell right into it. I really do feel oddly from it all. It seemed very real."

"Don't feel bad about it," Donald said. "We were there to have sex with them. It's just roll play."

"Is that how you felt? When it was happening?"

"No, but...Yeah, I get it. I get what you're feeling. I felt it too, but...doesn't that just mean it was good? The roll play, I mean?"

"Oh, it was good," I said emphatically. "Yeah, maybe we've all got cheaters inside us and that's the way to let it out without hurting anybody. I'm not sure I'm happy with Jeana, though, for being so sneaky about it. She never mentioned they were going to do something like that."

"I guess that's what made it work," Donald said. "That element of reality."

"I guess," I said. The dark road was coming at us like a video game on a screen. There was nothing out there, and it made it easy to think.

—

I was hoping Donald and I would get to the marina early, so we could spend fifteen or twenty minutes talking with Bob and Jeana about our fascinating night together at their house and in their bed, but the late night of fourway sex wore us to a frazzle and we could barely get showered and out of the house and make it there by the time Cynthia was supposed to arrive. We pulled into the parking area just as she was getting out of her car.

"Hi Cynthia! Cute shorts," I said. I gave her a little hug. Donald greeted her and hugged her, too, which was a first I think, although they've always had a nice easygoing rapport. I could tell we were all secretly looking each other over; it's always fun to see a 'church person' out in the real world.

Cynthia looked nice and casual. She has long streaky blonde hair, and at church she almost always has it scrunched up in a knot on the back of her head, held with a decorative clip. It was nice to see her with it down, looking natural, even if it was plain looking and a long way from stylish.

She had a gray t-shirt on, one with a deep v-neck, and the v was laced up loosely with gray cord through metal grommets, like an untied shoe. It looked sexy, giving more than a hint of her deep cleavage. I couldn't see any sign of her bikini top, but I assumed it was under there, giving her big breasts some needed support.

Her shorts were white with thick black vertical pinstripes. They looked sort of 'yachty', and they fit her beautifully. She had slipper-like canvas shoes on her feet, adding to her casual look. She reached into her car for a big, oversized handbag made out of woven straw, and she proclaimed she was ready. She looked a little nervous.

I had my canvas 'beach bag' and Donald had the box of food: cookies and some little cheesecake things with strawberries on them. Jeana had said she'd make the lunch, and Bob was on top of the booze situation, as usual.

"This is a bigger marina than I thought," Cynthia said, looking around. "Lots of big boats. Which one's theirs?"

"There they are," I said, pointing. "See Jeana waving from up on top?"

"Oh, wow! That's big!"

"Yeah, it's nice," I said. "You could live on it probably, if you wanted to."

We walked to the docks and I was glad to see Bob was wearing khaki shorts and a polo shirt. His big cock in a speedo first thing in the morning might have been to much for Cynthia. Jeana was similarly attired: a cute shirt, shorts and flip-flops on her feet.

"Hi you two," I said to them. "Long time no see!"

"Oh," Jeana said. "Yes. How have you been?"

"Fantastic," I said. "I had the best dream last night. It wore me out, though. I could use a cup of coffee."

"Oh, I know. Bob and I are getting a slow start, too. Hi Cynthia! How are you! We're so happy you could come today."

"Welcome, Cynthia. Welcome, Norman's," Bob said. "Looks like it's going to be another blistering hot day. What's with this summer? Climate change?"

"I'm not complaining," I said. "I'll take all the hot summer days I can get."

"Me too," Cynthia said. "Your boat is awesome."

"Yeah, she's a nice old girl," Bob said. "You can run her hard and she just keeps comin' back for more." He winked at me and I smiled. "Why don't we stow that food and head on out," he said. "I'll warm up the engines."

I brought Cynthia inside and gave her the tour while Jeana and Donald handled the dock lines and helped guide the big boat out of its slip.

"This is where we usually change our clothes," I said, showing her the little bedroom at the front of the boat. "It's got a door if you want privacy. I always wear my suit under my clothes so it doesn't matter much. Did you dress that way?"

"Yes," Cynthia said.

"Oh, good," I said, "so we can just..."

I pulled my shirt off over my head, and I straightened my glasses and I fingered my hair back into place.

"You guys don't wait until you...get somewhere?"

"No, the fun part is walking around half naked," I said. "Makes me feel like a fancy person for some reason. Like 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous'. Remember that show?"

"No. A TV show?"

"Yeah. You're too young to remember it."

Cynthia was watching me intently. I pushed my shorts down over my hips and took them off, and I put all my clothes and my sandals in my bag.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this," she said, "but wow! You look really good, Margaret. Does anyone at church know?"

"Ha!" I laughed. "No, I guess they don't. Thank you for the nice compliment. When you get to be my age you'll appreciate that kind of thing more than you know. I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I'm kind of interested to see you, too. It's funny how churches are, isn't it? It's like a whole separate thing that's not real life."

"I know," Cynthia said, kicking off her little shoes. "I always think that, whenever I see somebody from church at the bookstore or somewhere. They're, like, in jeans and a t-shirt and I hardly even recognize them."

Cynthia crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her shirt and she pulled it up and off over her head. Her less-than-stylish streaky blonde hair tumbled back down over her shoulders. Her breasts were big and natural, every bit the match for mine, but younger and sexier. They were cradled in a string bikini that was the color of an neon eggplant — deep purple, but vivid. The strings were thin, like purple dental floss. Well, maybe not that thin, but you get the idea. There was a massive amount of cleavage on display, the natural kind, unforced, just two perfect curves coming together in a most perfect way. Her curvy side boob showed, even from a straight frontal view, but it wasn't garish like a porn girl or a stripper. It was just lovely, and really sexy. The incredible package from the neck down only exaggerated the plain, near-homeliness from the neck up — her hair looks like she probably cuts it herself; her eyes are smallish, un-made-up and just a touch too close together; and the slightly generous size of her nose doesn't do her any favors. All little things, but they add up in an unfortunate kind of way.

"You think I'm a wow?" I said, looking approvingly at the top half of her. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

She smiled shyly and took off her pinstriped shorts. The little purple bikini bottom was skimpier than anything I owned, with long strings tied in floppy bow knots at her hips. Her lack of self confidence was written all over her plain-looking face, but she looked pleased at my reaction to her unveiling.

"Is it okay?" she asked, looking at down at herself shyly. "I'm glad yours is...sorta like this."

"It's perfect, Cynthia. Jeana wears sexy ones, too. I think she said she was wearing her leopard print today."

"Oh, I like those. I've never been daring enough."

I wanted to tell her that her neon purple with the dental floss strings was plenty daring, but I didn't want to embarrass her.

"Shall we?" I said. "We should be out in open water by now."

I led the way and we found Donald and Jeana in the main room, mixing a pitcher of drinks and putting out snacks. Cynthia walked past us, to the sliding door that opened onto the back deck, and she stood there in the open doorway for a few long moments, watching the bubbly wake behind the boat and the marina receding slowly into the distance.

It turned out I hadn't seen one of the purple bikini's most incredible features: it was nearly thong-like in the back, showing off acres of sexy badonkadonk butt cheeks. It was an astounding thing to see, considering how conservatively Cynthia had presented herself at church for all the years we'd known her. All three of us were staggered by the unexpected sight of her, and it took a few moments to get our bearings.

Standing there with my mouth hanging open, I realized why she'd been self conscious about wearing it, her only bikini. Maybe I'd misled her and she thought "skimpy" meant "cheeky." I think Jeana and I both think we're too old for the kind of cheeky bottoms the younger girls wear, but I must say, Cynthia wore that style remarkable well. Her ass really is a work of art, perfectly smooth and roundly heart-shaped, and eye-poppingly booty-sized. Definitely a twenty-first century ass, the kind today's young men seem to go gaga over. I had a feeling Donald and Bob were going to be all gaga, too. There might even be drool involved.

"Here, try some Backyard Tea," Jeana said, offering Cynthia a big plastic glass full of the tasty, tan-colored drink. I nearly laughed, because "backyard" suddenly had a whole new meaning.

"There's rum in them," I said. "They've got a nice kick. After Jeana and I have had a couple we start running around topless."

"You do not!" Cynthia said, looking happily shocked. She glanced at Donald and back at Jeana and me. "You shouldn't even kid around about that kind of thing." She smirked a little and took her glass from Jeana. "What would Reverend James think?"

"Our boat is a church free zone," Jeana said, taking a big sip of her own drink. "Saturday is Saturday, and Sunday is Sunday. They can be very different as far as I'm concerned."

"Cheers to that," I said. "You gonna put your suit on, hun?" I asked Donald.

He nodded and Cynthia smiled. "I'm picturing him with his Sunday suit and tie on," she said, "but that would be way too hot on a day like this."

"Yes, and no fun to look at," Jeana said. "We like our men to show some skin out here. Do you go to the beach much, Cynthia? Do you like man-watching?"

Cynthia looked a little embarrassed by our decidedly un-churchlike candidness, but I think she was starting to get used to it.

"No, I'm not really a beach person these days. I used to be, when I was younger. I told Margaret the other day, I've only ever worn this at home when I'm trying to suntan a little," she said, looking down shyly at all the skin she was displaying.

"Well that's just a shame because you wear it beautifully," Jeana said. "I kind of love it."

I could tell Donald wanted to pipe in, but I was glad he didn't. A compliment from a man about her rockin' bikini body surely would have embarrassed her. Instead, he disappeared down the little passageway that led to the room where we changed. I had a vision of him snooping in Cynthia's bag, pulling out the little t-shirt with the sexy lacing at the neck, feeling the body-heat that was left in it and putting it to his nose for a sniff. It was an odd thing to have running though my head — I'd never thought about Donald doing such a thing before.

We three girls nibbled on some cut-up pieces of raspberry danish that Jeana had brought, and Donald was soon back, sporting his new aqua colored suit, a nice fitting one with white piping at the leg openings, orange piping at the pockets, and a wide white waistband with an external tie. I think having the tie on the outside is kind of sexy; right there for fingers to pull.

It was fun watching Cynthia's face when she first saw him. She seemed to light up a little bit, the same way she'd done when she first saw me in my bikini. We were all discovering each other, and it was fun.

Jeana was next, disappearing down the little hallway, returning a few moments later, looking sexy as hell in her leopard print.

"I know that one," Donald said, looking at her approvingly. "That was our first."

"You've seen them all, I think," she said. "Do you mind repeats?"

"Not at all. I love that one."

I was worried Cynthia would sense the ease in their conversation, and notice the lusty, loving look in their eyes. Maybe she did. Or maybe all it looked like was good friends. It was hard for me to know, hard for me to judge anymore. After spending the previous night in Bob and Jeana's big bed the four of us were starting to feel like a big married couple. A married quadruple. Is that a thing? I'll bet it is, somewhere in the world.

"You wanna bring Bob a drink, hun?" Jeana asked Donald.

He left with a drink in each hand and I decided to stop worrying. The four of us had gotten so comfortable with each other there was no way to hide it. Cynthia would just have to deal with it, in whatever way she wanted. It was probably less of a big deal than I thought.

We three girls chatted in the kitchen area, and before we knew it the engines were slowing. Jeana went out and walked up the side deck to the bow to drop the anchor. Cynthia and I went out on the back deck and stood at the rail, watching ducks scatter as Bob deftly entered the little cove.

"I thought there'd be camps everywhere on this lake," she said. Her eyes gazed at the marsh grass on the shoreline, the meadow with the red-winged blackbirds, and the thick woods beyond. "This is nice."

"We anchor here every week," I said. "It's starting to feel like it's ours."

The engines switched off and Bob was down the ladder quickly. He had followed orders and stayed dressed, but it was easy to see he was eager to get a good close-up look at Cynthia in her cheeky little purple bikini. I can only imagine what Donald had told him about it when he brought him his drink.

"I think you've been lying to us all these years, Cynthia," he said. "You're really Kate Upton's twin sister, right?"

"Nooo!" she said, smiling shyly, looking adorable.

"Who's Kate Upton?" I asked.

"Only the smokinest Sports Illustrated bikini model this side of heaven!" Bob said. He never was one to be understated.

Cynthia giggled. I was glad. Bob can be a lot to take in sometimes, but she seemed to be enjoying him. I had my fingers crossed, hoping she'd still be giggling when he had his gullet half full of rum and his speedo fully full of the erection I was almost certain he'd spring at some point in the day. It crossed my mind that maybe my first instinct had been right — maybe bringing a church friend into our unholy lair wasn't such a good idea.

Bob took off his shirt and his gorgeous top half was out, all tanned and hairy and masculine. I remembered what he'd told me in jest the first time I laid eyes on his flat, muscular abs — My wife won't put up with a belly. She starves me regularly.