"Hey Mike. Come on over and say hi to the girls." Donna P. beckoned to her husband.
He looked tired. His hair lay matted from sweat and the hardhat now held at his side. He painted on a brave face while he sauntered toward the pool. Wrinkles in the corners of his eyes mirrored a genuine smile when he said his greetings.
"Why don't you join us? You look like you could use a cool down."
"Alright," he muttered after a pause to consider. I'll rinse off and come back."
"Bring some more beers - will you honey?"
He nodded as he trudged through the open sliding door and disappeared.
"Your husband looks like a million."
"Thanks. He works hard. Summers kill him."
Mike returned with a towel and a six pack. His baggy board shorts looked a few sizes too big producing a curious visual contradiction because Mike is a large muscular man. The bathing suit was crafted for a giant. He tossed the towel onto the grass and plunged into water up to his ribs without ceremony. He passed the first can to me.
"Thanks." I set my can aside.
He shrugged and handed out the rest keeping two for himself. He downed the first and chucked it from the pool before saying another word. The last can opened with a smacking sound, and he sipped.
The group milled around the pool splashing to keep cool and ward off boredom.
When he finished his second, I called out. "Want this one, Mike?"
"Sure, if you don't want it."
"Keep away from Mike," I yelled, and threw the can to Donna P.
Mike lunged for his wife knocking her off her feet, but not before she tossed to Donna F.
Mike churned through the water like a bull right for Donna F. causing her to drop the can. I grabbed it before Mike got his footing and passed to Kirstie. She passed it back to Donna P. The game lasted longer than I expected with Mike comically swimming, striding, jumping, and charging to get the can. We laughed hysterically having a grand time.
Mike lunged taking the first stroke needed to swim over to me His wife gripped the waist of his swim trunks and hauled them down to his ankles.
"Whoa! What?" Mike spun in place. He wrestled his wife for a moment, but she surfaced with the board shorts triumphantly raised above her head.
"Give those back!"
Donna P. handed them hurriedly to me and crooned, "Keep away from Mike!"
The can was forgotten, and the game resumed. Mike was a good sport about it. I have to admit, I was shocked and excited by the turn of play. Mike is a handsome guy. His job keeps him more than fit. He's a tanned demigod, if you want to know the truth. I became flustered watching the muscles flexing in his thighs, the biceps bulging, and let's say another bulge didn't go unnoticed.
It was so exhilarating that I lost track of time, but soon enough, Mike retrieved his shorts. He had to tackle Donna F. to get them. I think she inhaled water, not because of Mike's actions but because of the shock finding herself pressed against him.
He climbed out of the pool with the suit in one hand. Not bothering with modesty, he faced us. He held the suit in the air mimicking his wife's earlier triumph and gave us the finger with his other hand. He looked fearsome, but then he smiled. Mike whirled around causing his nether appendage to swing dramatically and stomped back into the house.
We laughed and complimented Donna P. on specific elements of her husband's physique. The otherwise slow afternoon ignited an unexpected thrill within me assuring his starring role in future fantasies. We still joked about it an hour later when we went our separate ways. I needed to get home and change to be ready in time for the dinner I planned with my husband.
---
I bumped into the other women a few times over the course of the next week. Kirstie spotted me at the grocery store, and we reminisced laughing and exaggerating Mike's virility. Donna P. and Donna F. came to my house for coffee and to drop off lotto tickets. We took turns buying scratch-off tickets for the whole group. I didn't win anything.
Apropos of nothing in the conversation at the time, I blurted, "I had a great time in the pool," and started to blush, so I winked dramatically to cover my embarrassment.
"We'll have to do it here this week. You can show off your husband."
"Ah, No. Not this week," I blathered in sudden panic. Donna couldn't mean it. She understood exactly how to tease me successfully.
Donna F. came to my rescue. "Let's do it at my place."
"Are you gunna show off Rick?" Donna P. chided.
"He'll still be out of town, but I can arrange something entertaining."
"That sounds too good to pass up. Can you make it, Mary?"
Hesitating, I finally replied, "Like she says, it sounds too good to pass up."
---
We all gathered at Donna F.'s house. Her modest split level overlooked the city's maintenance vehicle yard. Rick traveled for his sales job. He and Donna always said it didn't make sense to put money into a house he never sees. Instead, they spent his annual bonus on extravagant trips. Last year, they spent two weeks in Maui.
"What you got to make this worth our while?" Donna P. teased.
"The mimosas and the sparkling conversation aren't enough?"
"Come on, I know you have something planned."
"Mimosas are more than enough." I tried to take some pressure off Donna F.
"If mimosas rev your engine, what I've got is going to give you a stroke."
"What is it? What is it!" Donna P. sounded like a child eager to open a present.
"Just a second. I'll get it."
Donna F. rummaged in her entertainment center drawer to pull out a disk. "I made this a few years ago. Rick said I could never show it to anyone - unless it was you girls."
We all laughed. Rick always flirted with us. He was so aggressive that our husbands resented him. I can't say I really minded the flirting though. It reminded me of the old days dodging gropes under the stands at a high school football game.
The disk started, and the big screen flashed to life. A jerky camera at a tilted angle crept slowly down the hall to pause beside a cracked open door. The camera showed a sliver of light until we could see Donna's hand nudge the door open.
Rick sat with his back to the door flipping through pictures on the computer screen. The video quality wasn't good enough to reveal the pictures from across the room, but nobody watching could doubt what Rick was doing. I giggled nervously. We all glanced at each other as if silently asking, "Is this OK?"
The camera crept closer until the screen resolved into an image of two women embracing. The picture changed, and a woman straddled a chair with a huge black dildo held agains her pouting lips.
By this time, the camera was close enough to peer over Rick's shoulder for an instant. The purple red knob of Rick's erection flashed. He must have noticed the camera and yanked it from Donna's hands.
"What were you going to do with this?" he demanded pointing the camera at his wife.
"A girl's got to have a little porn too." Donna F. smirked back at the camera.
"Then you should do it right."
The screen went dark. Then it flashed displaying the master bedroom. The camera must have been set on a table or a tripod because the scene played out with Donna's sensuous dance and Rick caressing his cock. After a while, Rick's brows furrowed. His face turned red, and he exploded shooting a string up onto his own chest and then onto his slightly chubby stomach.
"Do me now," the TV Donna demanded as the screen went dark.
"Oh crap! That was hot." Kirstie's words echoed my thoughts.
"You shouldn't have showed us that," I mumbled.
Donna P. punched me in the shoulder. "Shut up! That was great." Turning back to our host, she aded, "Will you make a copy for me?"
"Sorry, no copies ladies," Donna F. answered with a mix of pride and embarrassment.
"What you gunna do to top that on your night?" Donna P. demanded looking me straight in the eye.
I looked at the floor and blushed.
"I think I have an idea for my turn," Kirstie volunteered.
---
I admit, I was shaking with anticipation when I rang Kirstie's doorbell a few weeks later. We delayed the event because Donna F. had other plans. Her husband was back in town, and they were making up for lost time. In the end, Donna F. told us to go ahead without her.
The three of us ladies sat in the living room sipping wine coolers. I didn't have the courage to ask what was in store for entertainment. Instead, I fidgeted and squirmed in my chair. I must have looked like a nervous school girl.
When Kirstie's husband finally arrived, greetings were exchanged and the plan revealed. "We're going to play strip poker, but Steve has to ante enough clothes to match the entire pot wagered by us girls."
"It's not fair," I complained, "He's wearing a jacket and tie, and we're all in shorts and t-shirts."
"But, if we each throw one item in the pot, he's got to match with three," Donna P. explained.
"OK," I conceded and kicked one of my Converse onto the coffee table.
"Eew. Stink!" Kirstie teased. Then she peeled her shirt over her head adding to the ante.
Kirstie's small breasts remained concealed within a lacy bra, but the gesture still felt risqué to me.
Donna removed a gold chain from her neck. "Does jewelry count?"
Nobody objected, so Steve matched our wager with his jacket, tie, and shirt. He wore socks and shoes but elected to play bare chested. I don't think he was really trying. He asked for four cards and then called our hands. All he had was a pair of fives. My three of a kind won, and I scooped up all the clothes with a flourish into a hoard beside me. Rick's shirt betrayed the faint musk of male.
