(c) EarthSeaSky
It had been a long hard day at the office. In fact, it had been a long hard week of haggling over a building contract. That evening, Ann sat opposite me across our small dining table as we finished off the last of her home made apple pie. The tang of cinnamon and cloves did wonderful things for me. She topped our glasses with the Merlot.
"Thanks honey, did I ever tell you that your cooking is even better than my mum's?" I schmoozed.
Ann considered me over the rim of her glass, "Of course it is, otherwise you would never have left home ... my mother always told me that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. What she forgot to mention was, how much fun it can be getting there," she chuckled.
"Hmm, I'll drink to that," I grinned at her innuendo.
"Fay called this afternoon...she and John have invited us to meet them for a night on the town, tomorrow. We would meet as usual at the Black Opal for drinks and a few dances and later, if we felt like it, move on to some other stylish place they visited recently, what do you think?"
"Sounds fine, except for the drive ... you know what North Sydney is like on a Saturday night," I said.
"No worries...they are leaving their car at home and suggested we do the same."
"That's the best suggestion I've heard all week, but I never thought I'd hear that from John ... He goes nowhere without his Beamer," I said.
Ann skipped happily towards the phone, "OK, I'll call Fay to count us in."
And so it was that we met at our favorite haunt the following night.
John and I have known each other since we were kids at school, where each of us had acquired a kind of hero status amongst our classmates for jacking off during French. For our checkered history of misdemeanors, we had long been banned from sitting together. The principal had seated us at desks on opposite sides of the classroom.
We took fiendish delight in embarrassing our teacher, the cute and voluptuous Mlle. Lecocq, by pulling down hard on our exposed and raging erections, then letting them spring back up against the plywood bottom of our desks with a succession of resounding thwumps! and thwacks! From the depth of her scarlet flushes, it became evident that the young Mme. Lecocq must finally have guessed as to the type of percussive instruments being used to create the disturbance, and also, from our glazed expressions, those responsible for its emanation. Addressing me directly with only the hint of a smile, she had carried on regardless, "Marius n'est pas tres intelligent."
Some thirty years later we are just as horny as ever, and although neither of us have ever openly admitted it, we are each aware of how hot we are for each other's wives.
And as we sat at the bar openly admiring their fully mature figures and elegant dress, we also knew that our women were likewise attracted to both of us. Every once in a while a challenging glance was exchanged, our body language spoke of the chemistry that engulfs the four of us.
John and I had been sitting on our perches at the cocktail bar, chatting idly over our drinks for long enough to loosen up. Engaged in animated girl talk, Fay and Ann were comfortably out of earshot at a nearby table when Ann glanced up from her martini to catch John's ever roving eye. He was openly appraising her credentials in open-mouthed approval. She was used to this, and acknowledged his admiration with an "eat your heart out baby" smile. Provocatively, she puckered her lips to shape a wisp of a kiss that had both John and I plunging our hands into our pockets!
Ann stands a leggy 5ft 7", marginally taller than me. At forty-five, the arrogant thrust of her proud bare breasts accented by pert, pink nipples that are always erect, are two reasons why she's such fun to shower with. Her eyes are as warm and soft as her close quicksilver hairstyle that sparkles with vitality. There is about her a slight air of sexual modesty and shyness to set a man's loins afire.
Fay by contrast at 5ft 2", is a petite green-eyed, strawberry blonde blessed with a magnificent DD bust and all the sexual assurance that such assets confer upon a woman. Her hair is long and she wears it loosely drawn up into a scroll on top. Her perfect legs excite speculation as to the ecstasy that might be found between them when they are locked around your neck.
Despite their appearances, Ann and Fay share a common heritage, both are English with a deep, rounded, mellow voice and tonal range - in itself an instrument of lust. Fay's slight London West End accent is pitched just slightly higher, yet melodious in extremis. Without ever having crossed the normal borders of conventional morality, we have shared many flirtatious evenings together and, on one such occasion after several drinks, Fay confided in front of us all that the first time she saw what John held in store for her, she cried, "My god! You're not putting that thing in me!" Thereafter Ann would sometimes pay him tribute and refer to him deferentially as, 'Big Bad John'. The girls would laugh and giggle and wiggle their tits at him, and we would all get horny, especially Ann.
The evening was moving along nicely. More couples and singles were arriving as the black band began to play with passion. Ann wore a backless electric-blue, three quarter length dress, sheer black stockings and silver stilettos. We had a few more rounds of drinks that really set us rolling. Ann could scarcely conceal her fascination with the bare chested, black lead drummer, and the power bulge at the crotch of his tight black leather pants. Sensing her gaze he looked up suddenly and flashed her an appraising smile. Ann acknowledged him as demurely as she could, all that was left of the lady in her, blushed!
In layered Cockney, Fay teased, "Hmm, cutie isn't he luv?"
Laser light beams cast shards of luminescent color on the dancers and the female vocalist was singing Gloria. Fay and I locked eyes and my heart reset its rhythm to the beat. I slid off my stool and led her to the dance floor. She wore a black silk sheath dress split one side to the hip, sheer silk stockings and black stilettos. A large greenish colored stone set in a silver band encircled her neck. The total effect was stunning. Savoring her scent I took and held her close. She pressed her swollen tits into me as our right legs brushed. We danced together and my rock hard cock kept bumping against her thigh. Melded thus she raised her eyes to mine and in each other we recognized a wanton, insatiable lust. The black drummer quickened his beat. Her lips parted as we kissed, so gently at first. Our tongues tangoed, teased and tantalized as they savored the first of the other's juices.
The scene before us swirled and disintegrated into a strobe of frozen images. John and Ann in a kaleidoscope of laser light, her arms around his neck and his around her hips and shapely ass, teased and tormented her with his big bad John! They were all but oblivious of their unshared passion. I felt a sudden pang of jealousy and yet, I thought, why should I, as I held his woman closer.
