Valerie

"Where are they?" I asked naively.

"Our house," said Valerie referring to her and Clete's place. "We won't see them until morning."

Valerie and I made the best of the rest of the night. Everything except sleep was on the agenda. We met Clete and Carolyn at a nearby diner for breakfast. They were sitting on opposite sides of a booth. Valerie slid in with Clete and I sat next to Carolyn.

"You okay?" I asked Carolyn.

"I'm wonderful," she answered.

"Are we square?" I asked.

"Why? Do you want to stop what we're doing?" she asked.

I looked at her. I looked a Valerie. I put a hand on Carolyn's thigh. "Not really," I admitted.

Carolyn put her hand on top of my hand on her thigh and moved both of our hands up and down on her leg. "Neither do I," she said.

Back home, I picked up with Carolyn where I had left off with Valerie. Later, we lay in bed. I was idly running a finger around her nipple. "How was he?" I asked.

"That's not a question you should ever ask and I will never answer," insisted Carolyn. "My only concession is he's different and I presume so is Valerie."

It was like that for several months. Comparisons were never mentioned again by either of us. Satisfaction was. Every few weeks, we would have dinner with Clete and Valerie and head home after exchanging partners. Carolyn insisted it wasn't wife swapping. She preferred to refer to it as husband sharing.

We frequently went out with Clete and Valerie on the weekends to a pub or club where we drank, danced and laughed together. About half the time we went home with our spouses. About a year ago, Clete and Valerie were out of state for a wedding on the weekend. Carolyn and I decided to head for a club without them.

We tried a new place. Carolyn had heard about it on social media. Externally it looked fairly modern. After parking our car in the back parking lot, we went inside. The lighting was subdued, the décor conservative and reminiscent of a private gentleman's club of the turn of the last century. We sat at a small table, ordered drinks and listened to the band play music of the seventies and eighties. We danced a few tunes and ordered more drinks.

There was a young couple seated at the table next to us. Carolyn pointed out the woman to me. "She's really gorgeous," she told me. I agreed and she reminded me several more times in the next thirty minutes adding that she had enormous breasts. I couldn't resist looking each time she brought her up.

I evaluated the gentleman with her. "I bet you'd like to see what he's packing," I suggested.

Carolyn responded with a long look at their table and a brief smile.

They had been drinking at a rate at least double our rate. We could see the woman was enjoying the drinks and the music. Her body was moving suggestively with the beat. Carolyn excused herself to pee. On the way back, she stopped and said something to the band leader.

A few minutes later, the band began to play David Rose's 1972 release of "The Stripper."

"Did you request that?" I asked.

"Just watch," she told me.

The woman at the next table immediately reacted to the music. She bounced and twisted in the chair. Ten seconds later, she was standing next to her table, bumping and grinding to the music. She was really good at it. She put her hands in her red hair and pushed her chest out. She put her hands on the sides of her body, pushed her breasts forward, slid her hands down her body and continued down over her hips. She ran her hands up under her short skirt, stopping just short of flashing everybody and everybody was watching.

She climbed up on her chair and danced some more and then up on the table in front of her escort. He steadied the table and she danced with her eyes closed. No one was more appreciative of her dancing than I was. When the band reached the end of the song, they started from the beginning again.

Her movements were increasingly erotic and suggestive. The audience began to clap with the music and I joined them. Her significant other tapped her on her ankle and pointed at me. She looked at me and our eyes locked. She smiled and stepped from her table to ours. Both Carolyn and I steadied the table.

She began to slither and twerk on the table as if I was the only other person in the room. I could see up her skirt. She was wearing white panties. She squatted several times, her short shirt rode up and I could see that her white panties were actually white bikini briefs and there was no shadow of pubic hair.

Carolyn handed me a five dollar bill. I held it in my hand and waved it in the air. The dancer laughed at the implied suggestion. She looked at her partner. He smiled and nodded. She looked at me again and began to shimmy down in front of me again. I held up the fiver, expecting her to take it. Instead, she moved closer to me, lifted her skirt until it was almost around her waist and waited.

Carolyn elbowed me and whispered, "Tuck it in her panties."

I moved my hand holding the cash closer to her. She moved closer to me. I reached up, pulled the string waistband of her briefs out a short distance with my fingers and folded half of the bill inside before I released it. She stood up, dropped her skirt, blew me a kiss and resumed dancing.

When the music stopped, she stood on the table and held her arms out to me to help her down. I stood and lifted her off the table with my hands on her waist. She straightened her skirt and said, "Thank you."

"Thank you!" I repeated.

She excused herself and headed to the ladies room. "I love the enthusiasm of the Irish when they're drinking," commented Carolyn.

The man seated at her table looked at us and made a motion indicating that we should put the tables together. I looked at Carolyn and she whispered, "Why not?"

We pushed the tables together and introduced ourselves. His name was Sean and the woman's name Bridget.

Bridget returned holding the five dollar bill in her hand. She sat at the table with us. She didn't seem surprised that the tables had been pushed together. The money sat on the table between us, a constant reminder to me of where it had been.

Conversation was at times animated and other times mellow. It was at all times suggestive and full of double entendres. We learned little about them except that they were married, frequented clubs and pubs and liked good music and strong drinks. We shared similar information with them.

The band quit at half past ten and the bartender announced last call at quarter to eleven. We left the five on the table, added a couple of Jacksons and exited the club together. We stood on the sidewalk in front, deciding what to do. There was a Holliday Inn across the street and Sean started to head in that direction. "Where are you going?" asked .Bridget.

"To get a room," Sean answered. "I can't drive in my condition."

"Good idea," Bridget agreed.

We all headed for the hotel. Bridget and I waited on a nearby sofa while Sean and Carolyn went to the front desk to get rooms. They walked back to us. Carolyn handed me an envelope with a key card inside and a room number. "We got a room for us," she said. "That one's for you."

Sean and she turned and headed for the elevator.

Bridget and I watched them go. She laughed. "This is perfect," she said.

She was right. It was perfect. I helped her off the sofa and we headed for the elevator. Room 412 had a king sized bed and a large window facing east. We took a moment to watch the gibbous moon rising. "Beautiful, isn't it?" said Bridget.

"Not as beautiful as the woman next to me," I responded.

Bridget laughed. "Is that the best you can do?" she asked.

"Pretty lame?" I asked.

"It's a horrible pick up line," Bridget confirmed.

"I thought we were past that point," I said.

"We are," agreed Bridget. "Come with me and let's see if you can do better with your mouth shut."

She kicked off her shoes and walked away from the window while unbuttoning her blouse. Her blouse was on the floor and she was working on her skirt when she got to the bed. I followed, working on removing my shirt. Bridget sat on the side of the bed in just her bra, no panties.

"No panties?" I asked.

"They were too wet. I couldn't wear them," she explained. "Enough talk," she continued. "Get those pants off."

I pushed off my shoes with my feet and removed my pants. Bridget tossed her bra aside and knelt on the floor in front of me to remove my socks and boxers. My erection danced in front of her. "Nice," she commented.

She kissed the head of my erection, stood up and led me the rest of the way to the bed by my cock. She stripped off the spread and opened the sheets. She slid into the bed and pulled me in with her.

There's a quote from Ed McMahon that "God invented whiskey to keep the Irish from ruling the world." Bridget didn't need more alcohol to rock my world. I saw stars when she crawled between my legs and began to suck my erection; fireworks when she began to juggle my balls and I fell into a volcano when she pushed a finger in my ass and I came in her mouth. We hadn't been in the room for ten minutes and I was already hopelessly in her power.

"Still beautiful?" she asked.

"More than ever," I managed to respond.

I needed to gain control of the situation. I turned us over. Bridget fell on her back. Her breasts collapsed into her chest and flowed to the sides. Her legs separated anticipating something I was currently unable to give her.

Instead, I put my hands on the inside of her thighs, held them open, sucked hard on her clitoris and waited for her reaction. She didn't disappoint. "Foc," she cried. Her pussy was completely bare, not even a hint of stubble. From where I lay, I had an unrestricted view. Without pubic hair, the detail was incredible. Every mound, lip, bump, fold and crease was visible and in full 8K color. For a brief moment, I wondered how she had managed to shave so perfectly in some of the more inaccessible places without damage.

Bridget flexed her hips against my hold on her thighs. I kissed her clitoris and sucked it between my lips again. This time I didn't let go. I held her clitoris between my lips and ran my tongue across the tip. "Dia," she cried. Her clitoris grew as I sucked further until I could run my teeth lightly over it. I slid two fingers slowly into her vagina and pressed her clitoris between my teeth and fingers.

She was thrashing her hips but I held her firm. I removed one finger from her vagina and pushed it into her ass. She screamed and an orgasm wracked her body. I was now ready and, before she recovered, I pushed my erection to the hilt inside her. She froze in surprise but after a few seconds began to roll with the rhythm of my stroking into her. I let her loose and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

We flowed together into a mutual, satisfying fuck. When she came a second time, I didn't pause. I maintained the pace. As she recovered, she matched my tempo again. The cycle started to repeat. I felt her orgasm building again only this time I joined her. I pulsed sperm and semen against her cervix just as she went over the edge with her orgasm.

We lay on the bed wrapped around each other. Bridget had her head on my shoulder and was gently circling one finger around my nipple. "Buíochas," she whispered.

"You're welcome," I whispered back.

We rested for quite awhile, possibly even slept for a time. Very early in the morning, Bridget began to stroke my penis. Her touch attracted my attention but I lay quietly to see what she had in mind. Her ministrations over time resulted in my penis stiffening into an erection. When she deemed that I was sufficiently hard, she rolled one leg over my hips, centered her body and lowered herself onto me.

It felt incredible. The velvet smoothness and heat of her vagina was magical and my erection grew further inside her. I reached for her breasts. They were huge and I needed two hands to control each one. She struggled up on my chest and lowered her breasts so I could kiss and suck briefly on her nipples and then returned to vertical with her hands on my chest. She rode me like that for what seemed an eternity. The swinging of her breasts was hypnotic. I could be like that inside her forever. I never wanted it to end but it had to. I began to unload another stream of semen inside her.

She responded by tightening the muscles of her vagina around my erection until I couldn't expel my semen and my outflow stopped. Her body trembled and shook as she tried to suppress her orgasm while stopping mine. She failed. She collapsed on my chest while her body writhed in orgasm and I finished emptying my prostate inside her.

We slept again with Bridget lying on top of me.

The room phone rang at about seven in the morning. Bridget rolled off me in one direction and I rolled in the other direction to answer the phone. Carolyn was on the line. "Are you guys decent?" she asked.

"Depends on how you define decent," I told her. "Right now, naked seems very decent."

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Carolyn said.

"No problem," I told her. "You didn't disturb anything. We're just naked."

"Breakfast downstairs in a half hour?" Carolyn asked.

"We'll do our best," I said and hung up.

I conveyed the message to Bridget. "Diabhal," she cursed. "I was hoping we could fuck again."

I commiserated with her. "So was I but we don't have time," I said. "We have to clean up, dress and meet Sean and Carolyn downstairs."

We showered together. Bridget was insistent on washing my penis and testicles and I wrangled her breasts enough to soap them up with my hands and rinse them, twice.

Dressed, we wandered out of the room, down in the elevator and into the breakfast area off the lobby only ten minutes late. Carolyn and Sean were seated at a table with cardboard cups of coffee, nothing else. I got coffee for both Bridget and me and sat with the others.

"There's not much here for a real breakfast," informed Carolyn. "I could use something substantial."

We all agreed and stepped outside to evaluate whatever possibilities existed. "How about there?" asked Carolyn, pointing to a Waffle House about a quarter mile up the road.

"Waffle House?" questioned Sean.

"Why not?" said Bridget.

"Wait here," said Sean. "I'll get the car."

"Don't bother. I could use the walk," said Bridget.

We walked to the Waffle House. It was moderately busy and we found a table around the corner at the end of the counter. We ordered All-Star Special Breakfasts for everyone with waffles, eggs, extra bacon, extra hash browns, toast, coffee and orange juice.

It was all delivered in less than five minutes and we dug in. "This is really good," commented Sean. "The eggs are perfect."

"They always are," said Carolyn.

"I didn't know what to expect," added Sean.

"You've never eaten breakfast at Waffle House?" asked Carolyn.

"No. Never," he told her.

"Then welcome to the south," said Carolyn.

After breakfast we walked back to the hotel, checked out and then back to the club. Our cars were still in the parking lot behind the closed club. We stood in a rough circle talking. I sensed we were reluctant to say goodbye. Bridget confirmed my assumption. "I think we've started something important and I'm not willing to just say goodbye," she commented.

"I feel it too," said Carolyn. She took her phone out of her purse and handed it to Bridget. "Put your contact information in my phone."

Bridget took Carolyn's phone and entered her information. She returned Carolyn's phone and her own phone. "Do the same for me," she said.

With the contact information secure, we hugged and kissed each other. Carolyn gave Sean a polite kiss. Bridget wasn't so restrained. She kissed me with full tongue involvement and squeezed my crotch. I kissed her back and squeezed her breast.

I held our car door for Carolyn and closed it softly behind her. I got in the driver's side and started the engine. "Did you see their car?" I asked.

"No. Is that important?" replied Carolyn.

"It was a Jaguar F Type," I informed her. "Eighty, ninety thousand dollars. Maybe more."

"You think we may be in over our heads?" she asked.

"I don't know. It's just an observation. Can't extrapolate from only one data point."

On the drive home, Carolyn commented, "That was a hell of a 'good bye' between you and Bridget."

"I think it was more of a 'so long' than a 'good bye,'" I suggested.

"Speaking of 'so longs,'" said Carolyn. "Is it reasonable to get together with Sean and Bridget again?"

"I thought that was obvious when you requested their contact information," I asserted.

"That was my thinking in the moment but now I don't think it's that simple," offered Carolyn.

"I'm listening," I said.

"First, spending the night with Sean and Bridget is a first for us and it opens a new door in both our relationship and how we'll interact with new acquaintances in the future," said Carolyn.

"That's true and we should talk about it," I agreed. "What's next?"

"Okay," responded Carolyn. "Second, how does this affect our relationships with Clete and Valerie?"

"I don't see the connection," I questioned. "The relationships are completely separate. We spend time with Clete and Valerie and also spend time with Sean and Bridget. They don't intersect."

"I don't see how they don't intersect," said Carolyn. "We spend so much time with Clete and Valerie, how can we also spend time with Sean and Bridget without cutting back on the time we spend with Clete and Valerie. We also have to have time with each other. We don't have that much time in our lives to do all three relationships justice. Sooner or later, we're going to have to say no to Clete and Valerie without a reasonable excuse. That can't be good for any of us."

"Interesting," I commented. "Let me think about it."

The conversation continued when we got home, right after we confirmed our dedication to each other in bed.

I was lying next to Carolyn in bed with my head on her breast and running my fingers leisurely through her pubic hair. "I've been thinking about what you said in the car," I said. "I think I may have a possible solution."

"Now I'm listening," said Carolyn.

"I think we have to introduce them to each other," I suggested.

"It's not that simple," Carolyn insisted. "Sure, we can introduce them to each other but to expect that they'll suddenly have sexual relationships with each other similar to the sexual relationships we have with each of them is a hope too far. We can't just point to people and say, 'Go fuck each other.'"

"True," I agreed. "It is a hope that they'll naturally be attracted to each other but it's not impossible. We should introduce them to each other and see what develops. What's the worst case? It won't work and we'll be back to square one and have to think of a different approach. However, if it does work, then it's fun and games."

"Could happen," mused Carolyn. "We could have a dinner party for the six of us."

"That's a good idea," I agreed. "Good food, good wine, plentiful drinks and six sexy people. The result seems obvious."

"You are an eternal optimist," laughed Carolyn.

"I think we can influence the result," I insisted.

"Really? How?" asked Carolyn.

"What if you talk to Valerie and tell how we've met a nice couple and you thought the guy was hot?" I speculated.

"Wouldn't that be the same as admitting that I'd already fucked him?" she asked.

"I guess it would depend on how you expressed it. I'm sure you've talked about hot men with other women without the implication that you've already bedded them," I shared.

"Valerie isn't a dummy," characterized Carolyn. "She'll figure it out."

"Okay, she'll figure it out. Is that a bad thing?" I asked. "It might influence how she prepares for the dinner."

"Explain further."