In our late forties and both married for over 20 years, things had certainly calmed down in our respective bedrooms. We both still have sex 1 or 2 times a week but the real fireworks were few and far between. Shonda and I had talked about this and were hoping we could reignite things again. Shonda and Devon and my husband, Stan, and I (Cat, short for Catherine) are closest friends and we usually get together at their house or ours once a week or so for dinner, drinks, and conversation. This evening we're at their place. Shonda and I are sipping white wine in the kitchen as she preps dinner for the oven. Stan and Devon are out back in the shed he refers to as his "man-cave", doing whatever two men and a six-pack of beer do.
An hour later the roast and vegetables are nearly done. Shonda texts Devon to come back in but 10 minutes later there's no sign of them nor is there a text reply.
"Cat, you better go out and get them or dinner will be ruined. You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not! Be right back."
As I reach the shed I get a wicked idea. Grinning, I sneak up to the window where the curtain inside is caught on something, leaving a clear view into the shed at the bottom. Without making a sound I peek through the window and get the shock of my life! I immediately text Shonda - 'Get out here NOW! You need to see this. And BE Quiet!!!'
A moment later she comes out the back door with a confused look on her face and moves up next to me. I put a finger to my lips - universal sign for silence - and point to the window. She gasps, pulls back and looks at me with an expression combining conspiracy and delight.
We walk away from the shed so we can talk. "Cat, Stan is sucking Devon's dick!"
"Oh, is that what that is? I thought it was a new form of CPR," I reply, rolling my eyes.
"What should we do?"
"I'm busting in and confronting them with all the feigned indignity I can muster! Just go along with whatever I say."
Back at the shed, I carefully test the doorknob and find it unlocked. This close we can hear Devon's moans of pleasure, verifying that the activities haven't yet concluded. Slamming the door open, I shout, "What the fuck is this!?" Stan immediately pulls off Devon, who tries to pull up his briefs and shorts. I notice that Stan is also naked from the waist down. Though erect, his cock begins to deflate very quickly.
"Girls," Devon says, "let us explain. It's not what you think."
"It is EXACTLY what we think - we're both familiar with the act you will recall," Shonda retorts. "Get dressed and we're going into the house right now."
Once back in the house two angry-looking women are confronting their guilty-faced husbands. Devon poured two glasses of scotch for he and Stan while Shonda refilled our wine glasses, after turning off the oven so the roast wouldn't burn. We take seats in the living room, men on one side, women on the other.
"Who's going first?" I asked. The men exchange glances and Stan starts to speak.
