Hot Tub And Whipped Cream

Emily again. I told you about how I met Paul and Sara in "Hot Tub Service Girl." The story didn't end there. In fact, it just started to get interesting.

After that wonderful Saturday evening, I couldn't get that couple out of my head. So I looked up Paul's email address and left him a note thanking him and his wife for their hospitality. I got a message back that same day, saying that I was welcome over at their house any time. I responded with "How about Saturday afternoon?" and the reply came back "Great!"

So right after tennis practice, I was at their house. They were waiting for me in the hot tub, and we got right into fun and games. Before dinner, we'd gotten in two orgasms apiece, and I was so comfortable being naked around them that we just dispensed with clothes altogether.

I found out that my suspicions were correct: it wasn't their first time with a threesome. There had been another student who'd played with them a few years back. She was in Russia now, studying history for her doctorate and teaching English on the side. "Elly was practically part of the family," Sara told me. "God, she was hot! It wasn't easy to get together while our kids were around, so we had to be more discreet."

"Where are your kids?" I asked.

"Jessie's a junior at OSU, and Jeff is graduating from Princeton in June. Jeff may be home this summer, but Jessie's going to go to Europe right after school to take a summer job in Paris. One of those student exchange things."

So we chatted and fucked some more, and agreed to see each other the following weekend. That weekend led to another, and before long, I was there every weekend. Since the weather was warm, I'd just wear a sundress and some sandals, with nothing on underneath. I almost never wear a bra anyway, except when I need something to keep my nipples from poking out. I actually enjoy the feeling of cloth on my nips, and they get hard easily. With tight shirts, that's sometimes a problem, but most sundresses are cut with more bosom than I can use, and the extra cloth makes the erections less noticeable. And panties didn't seem to make much sense either, so I usually went without (except when I was wearing jeans, which have seams that chafe my girl parts). As soon as I walked through their door, I'd kick off the sandals, strip off the dress, and be naked in ten seconds flat.

Maybe I'm a closet nudist, but I just loved to be naked in their house. They were usually naked, too, and if we weren't actually fucking each other, we'd be flirting. Both of them seemed to love me just for who I was, booblets and all. And once we'd fucked each other silly, and all the lust was burnt away for a while, I found them wonderfully easy to get along with. Before long, I was in their regular social activities, too. We'd go to parties together, attend concerts and lectures, and go to the movies. By the time summer rolled around, I felt just as much a part of their family as I was of my own.

When the spring semester ended, I opted to go for some summer classes, because what with my tennis competitions, my class load during the year was getting heavy. When I told Paul and Sara, they made me an offer I couldn't refuse: move out of the dorm and live with them, rent-free. Since I'd practically been living with them anyway, it seemed the logical step. So I moved in with them that very week ... not only into their house, but their bed as well.

Sometimes, at parties, Paul would introduce me as his "second wife," and that got a lot of laughs, but it really wasn't all that far from the truth. He distributed his hard-ons and his cum equally to us ladies. If one of us wasn't in the mood, the other would be, so he got plenty of tail. And when we were both in the mood, he got even more! And when he wasn't around, Sara and I found plenty of ways to amuse each other. I remember when Paul was gone one weekend, and we girls were almost always making love to each other in a sort of dreamy, low-key way, keeping each other aroused, spending hours in bed teasing each other, drinking wine, and smoking pot. We loved each other as much as we loved her husband, but just in a different way. We could spend hours just looking into each other's eyes and caressing each other, without the pressure to bring each other to climaxes.

A very cozy relationship all around! And it didn't change until one Saturday in early July.

I came home as usual from tennis practice. I know Paul and Sara wouldn't be home, because they'd told me they were going shopping that day for a new car. I walked in the door, stripped off the sundress, kicked off my shoes, and went into the hot tub room.

The hot tub was already occupied.

I saw a young man with a thin face and ginger hair and beard. He was in the tub, facing me, with his arms stretched out along the rim of the tub. I couldn't see anything of his body below his nipples, but could see that his shoulders were well-muscled and he had a light covering of ginger-colored hair on his chest.

I, of course, had nothing on my chest. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

I shrieked and covered my crotch and tits with my hands. "Who the hell are you?" I cried as I glared at him.

"I'm Jeff. I live here. Who are you?"

"I'm ... you live here? No, I live here!"

"Oh, you're Emily. My parents told me about you."

I blinked. Of course. I'd seen a picture of their son, from his high school graduation. Here he was, but something was different. The beard. That was new.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get into the tub?"

I blinked again.

"Come on in. There's enough room." He smiled.

I smiled back and dropped my hands. "OK. But this is a little ... unexpected. I don't have a suit."

"Neither do I. Not here, anyway. Mom and Dad told me I didn't need one."

Indeed. I sure hadn't ever seen them there in anything but their birthday suits. Well, I can be just as naked as he can, I thought. So I walked up to the tub, got in, and settled down in the seat so that my own nipples were just under the water's surface. Part of it was modesty, and part of it was that I didn't want him to see how hard they were getting.

"When did you get in?" I asked.

"About an hour ago. I left late yesterday evening and drove all night. I stopped at a rest area to try to get a little sleep, but it didn't work. Don't be surprised if I fall asleep right here in the tub."

I laughed. "I've been that way lots of times."

"So you're living here now? I didn't see anything in the guest room, and Mom told me to just move my stuff into there. Um..."

Well, here it is. If he went to Princeton, he obviously has a few functioning brain cells, and it won't take him long to figure out what's going on. So I took the direct approach.

"Well, actually, you can have the guest room all to yourself. I sleep with your parents."

"You do? Wow."

"Wow? Is that all you have to say? Wow?"

"I don't know what else to say, except that I'm not really too surprised."

"You're not?"

"No. My parents have always been pretty liberal. Free-thinkers, you know. I mean, I was drinking wine at dinner when I was fifteen. And the first time I had weed was when my Dad passed me a joint. I guess I was around fourteen then. They said it was cool as long as I only did a little of it, and only when they were around."

"Jeez, my parents practically had a seizure when they found a hash pipe in my purse! I was grounded for a month!"

"That's what I hear from most of my friends, about their parents. Believe me, I know how lucky I am."

"You sure are. Did they tell you about me? What did they tell you about our ... living arrangements?"

"They only said that you were staying with them for the summer, and that your name was Emily. When I looked in the guest room and didn't see anything of yours there, I assumed that you had a room in the basement or somewhere. I really don't know this house, you know. My parents only moved here this spring."

"That's right. I forgot."

"Look, whatever your arrangement is, it's cool with me. You're an adult, my parents are adults, and I'm an adult. And I know that they've done this sort of thing before."

"What sort of thing?"

"Sex outside of their marriage. My sister and I always knew something was going on with ... what was her name? Ella? Elly. Mom and Dad tried to keep it from us, but we knew. Our old house had this weird arrangement with two master bedrooms with a bathroom in common. Elly had the other master bedroom, and you could go through the bathroom from one bedroom to the other without going through the hall. And when we kids would have sleepovers with other kids, they made sure that Jessie and I would both be out of the house that weekend, so the three of them could have the house to themselves. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"Were there other women? Or men?"

Jeff thought a minute. "I don't know. I don't think so. Mom and Dad weren't into casual relations. They really loved Elly, almost like a sibling, or a spouse. They stayed in touch with her when she left. They still do. I think that they would really have to love somebody a lot if they were going to share their bed with her." When he said that, he looked at me. And suddenly, I realized how much Paul and Sara meant to me, and I to them. I looked at Jeff quietly. "Did you mean that as a compliment?" I asked.

"I meant it as a statement of fact. I mean, if they think the world of you ... and they obviously do ... then you must be a very special person."

"I know. Thank you for saying that."

"And, as a special person, I think I should be showing you some hospitality. I'm going to get a glass of wine. Do you want one?"

I nodded, and he got up. I finally had a chance to see his whole body, and I sure liked what I saw. He had the same sort of muscles that my first lover Jerry did, a swimmer's muscles, flat and graceful. His chest hair extended down his torso to his belly and finally his crotch, with the same ginger color as his head and beard. His dick was about the same size and shape as his fathers, and it was at half-mast ... not erect, but definitely standing out from his body. It was circumcised, like his Dad's. If he had any self-consciousness at all about his nudity, he didn't show it as he shuffled down the hall into the kitchen. He came back ten minutes later with an opened bottle of wine, two plastic glasses, and an ashtray containing a doobie, a lighter, and a roach clip. His erection had gone away. That got me thinking that he had acquired it while looking at me. I was flattered, confused, and apprehensive all at the same time ... not about being in any sort of danger, but trying to sort out my attraction for him from my attraction for his 'rents. I wondered how this was going to play out. I sure didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings, but I also didn't want to be a bone of contention.

He poured us both a glass of wine, lit the doobie, took a toke and passed it to me along with the glass. I took a hit and held it while he climbed back into the tub, and then handed it back to him. It was good shit. I took a second hit when he passed it to me, returned it to him, and waved it off when he offered it again. He stubbed it out in the ashtray.

We continued to talk for a while. He'd just earned a bachelor's degree in biology, and planned to start work on his master's degree at Stanford in the fall. He was on the swim team, not setting any records, he admitted, but doing OK. I told him about my studies in engineering and my time on the tennis team. We got to talking about movies, and music, and the time just flew by. When we felt overheated, we got up and moved out of the hot tub into some lawn chairs, without bothering to dress.

That's about when his parents came back. When he heard the car pull up, he jumped up. "We'd better get dressed," he said.

"Don't bother," I replied. "We're nude pretty much all of the time around here anyway."

He looked at me uncertainly, but I gave him a smile and a wink, and he relaxed and sat back down. Paul and Sara came into the room, and were momentarily taken aback the sight of their son and housemate chatting easily, both buck-naked.

"Come and join us," I said. "The hot tub's perfect."

Paul and Sara looked at each other, and I suddenly realized that I'd crossed a line. Probably they had never been naked in front of their son before. Nor had they seen him naked, probably, since puberty.

But Sara sized up the situation immediately and started disrobing. As she stripped, she told us about the car-shopping expedition. Down came her jeans, off came her blouse, as she talked about Hyundais and Beamers. She was facing Jeff as she unhooked her bra and let it fall free. Still looking at him, she bent down to shove her panties down her legs, letting her boobs hang. Jeff tried to stay cool, but I could see his eyes widen when he saw his mother's tits and snatch.

I looked at Paul. He was smiling. When he glanced at me, I smiled back. Then he stripped off his own clothes and, taking his wife's hand, led her down into the hot tub. I got up, took Jeff's hand, and beckoned him to join them.

"I'll be back in a minute," I said. And I was, with two more glasses, another bottle of wine, and some crackers. By that time, Paul had found the doobie, relit it, and passed to his wife. I gave the glasses to Sara and Paul and filled them, refilling mine and Jeff's as well.

So that's the way we spent the next half hour, sitting in the hot tub, chatting, and getting high. When we started feeling overheated, we all got out, toweled off, and went into the living room, still naked. We put down other towels to keep the sofa and chairs clean. The sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Paul and Jeff both had semi-erections. Sara and I knew from experience what that meant: they needed to get their rocks off, but didn't want to just come right out and say so. She seemed distracted, as though there was something she needed to say. but couldn't find a way to say it. Finally she said something about getting dinner ready and went into the kitchen. "Let me help," I said, and joined her, leaving the two men to chat.

"What's the matter, Sara?" I asked.

"Oh, this is just weird. I don't know how to handle it. I can see Paul wants to be fucked so bad, but what about Jeff?"

"Well, let me put it this way. Would you or Paul have a problem with me and Jeff being together?"

"Gee, no! But do you want that?"

"I think he's hot! And he's such a sweet guy. I would really, really, really like to seduce him. With your permission, of course."

"Honey, you're both adults. You don't need my permission to seduce him, or Paul's, either. I say go for it."

"But would Paul be cool with that? Emotionally, I mean."

"I think so. I mean, you're not his wife. Not that he doesn't love you, but he doesn't think that he has exclusive rights to you. We've talked about this before. He wants you to find your own men, and not feel that you have to be stuck with him and me."

"Even if one of those men is his own son?"

"Why not? He loves you both! But does Jeff have feelings for you that way? I mean, he's a guy, and you obviously turn him on. But getting it on with you might make him feel like he's cutting in on our territory, you know?"

"Well, let's find out. Just find a way to let him know that you and Paul are down with it." I gave her a quick hug, and together we whipped up a dinner for four.

That sexual tension in the living room was even greater in the dining room, especially since Paul and Jeff sensed that some sort of understanding between women had happened out in the kitchen. Suddenly Sara wasn't moody any more, but almost giddy in her gaiety. When dessert came around -- strawberries and canned whipped cream -- Sara surprised us all by picking up a strawberry and, looking straight at Paul, painting her nipple with its juices, and then biting into it sensuously. I laughed out loud, and the boys joined in as Sara smiled at me as if to say, "Your turn."

So I picked up the can of whipped cream and squirted a little on my left nipple while regarding Jeff with what I hoped was a seductive smile. Then I wiped it off with my finger, and licked the cream off with my tongue. The look on his face told me all that I needed to know. Sara saw it too, and grinned at me.

We finished dinner with a little dessert wine and another doobie. We all stood up, and Sara went over to Paul and gave him a big hug and a very wet kiss. Paul's arms went around her body, and they embraced like lovers.

"Get a room, guys," I said.

"Got one, thanks," Paul said. "We'll see you two later." And up the stairs they want, arm in arm.

Jeff stood there and looked at me. His cock was again at half-mast. "Well, what do you want to do?"

I smiled at him. "There's still a lot of whipped cream left." And then I walked over to him, pulled him to his feet, and gave him a big, wet kiss, just like the one his mother gave his father. Like father, like son! He hugged me back. We stood that way for a long, long time, his cock pressed flat against my belly. Let me die right here and now, I thought.

This guy was so different from my other lovers. With Jerry and Paul, it was both affection and lust. With Loser Boy, it was just lust (and damned little of that). But with this guy, I didn't feel that I wanted to hold anything back. I don't know if he was in a committed relationship with another girl, and I didn't care. I wanted him. I wanted all of him, body, heart, and soul. And I wanted him now.

And that's what I wanted to tell him. But when our lips parted, the only thing that came out of my mouth was staggeringly stupid: "Do you like me?"

He said, "Yes, I do. When I saw you step into that hot tub, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I thought that you couldn't possibly be as beautiful on the inside, but you are. You really are special. You're sexy and smart and funny. My parents were so right about you."

"Jeff, I want to fuck you."

"Yes. Let's do that. But would Mom and Dad mind?"

"Sara's given me her blessing. She said your Dad wouldn't mind, either."

"Then grab that whipped cream, and let's go."

We went into the guest room, where there was a queen-sized bed. Thankfully, Sara had already made it up, so we didn't have to do anything but turn down the covers. I lay down on the bed, and said, "How shall we play this game?"

He handed me the whipped cream and said, "This is how you show me what you want kissed." And then he lay down next to me.

I shook the can, and squirted some cream on my breasts, in little circles around my nipples. He licked it off obediently as I giggled. His tongue felt heavenly. He was smart enough to know that by leaving my nips uncovered, I wanted to be teased, and he did just that, going around my nips with his tongue without touching them.

"My turn," he said, and squirted some of the cream onto his pecs. I dutifully licked them clean, and grabbed the can. This time, I put a little dab on each of my nipples. He pressed his mouth against my right breast, and then I felt his tongue again, licking the nipple clean while his lips were on my areola. Then he flicked and bit my nipple tenderly, and slowly drew his lips up to the point of my nipple, sucking it gently. Then he did the other side the same way. My nips felt like they were on fire.

He next took the can and put a line of whipped cream from his chin to his belly button, and squirmed with delight as I licked it off. "I'll see you and raise you," I said, and I laid a line from the center of my breasts right down to my slot, and it was my turn to squirm. He took his time, going ever so slowly. He started at my boobs and by the time he got down to my pussy, my hand was already there.

"I raise," he said, and then he squirted a line right down the underside of his cock. I used my tongue in short little licks to clean it up. I could actually see it throbbing, jerking in time with his pulse.