After Stacy's first attendance at Annie and Carla's pool party, she and Eric seemed to grow further apart. It wasn't that she discovered that she didn't want to be with him anymore. No, that was not it at all. She still loved him as much as she did the day they got married. It was just that Stacy knew from that day forward, she would have a whole new dimension to her life that Eric would not even begin to understand.
Eric's life was so simple, Stacy thought. He went to work in the morning and came back home in the evening. That was it. He had everything taken care of for him by Stacy: the bills, the housecleaning, the yard work, so on and so forth. Furthermore, there had never been any discussion of what it meant for them to move to Houston. Stacy had left a good job, friends, and family so that Eric could pursue his career, and now—here she was—a trophy wife among the others in the neighborhood. At least that was how she felt. She wasn't even that much younger than Eric, 31 to his 36. But as the days went by, she felt that he was growing older faster than she. This feeling had been brewing long before Annie and Carla moved into their neighborhood but it was only since the pool party that Stacy had realized it.
The strange thing was that sex between them had gotten noticeably better since Stacy returned from the pool party. The recent memory of what those three unnamed women did to her there kept in her a state of constant arousal. On every single day that following week, Stacy wasted no time in ravishing Eric as soon as he returned home from work. Once, they even did it in the foyer.
"Wow, girl! You must be very happy with me, lately," Eric beamed. He was charmingly disheveled as he picked himself off the floor and zipped up his fly.
"You could say that," Stacy grinned.
* * * * *
That weekend, Eric walked in just as Stacy was packing her swimbag. "Off to another pool party, eh?"
"Yes, hon'. Don't worry. I won't be out late," Stacy said as she pecked him on the cheek.
The celebration at Annie and Carla's was already well underway. After greeting the hosts, Stacy discovered that it was already well known that she had been initiated, and women who were somewhat guarded with her last week even as they flirted were much more easygoing and friendly, eager as they were to help her feel like she was "one of them." The atmosphere was spirited and hedonistic, but not in a spring-break type of way. A tall hedge around the entire backyard provided a small amount of privacy, and anything less than discreet took place inside the house.
In the hot tub, a woman was—presumably—straddling one of the jets while another one held her from behind and kissed her neck. Her face and her quick panting indicated that she was about to climax. In the deep end of the pool, two women shared and underwater kiss. Stacy heard some whispering and giggling, and when she turned around, she saw a group of women sitting on the steps leading into the shallow end of the pool. They each had a hand down the waistband of their bikini bottoms. Stacy felt the familiar puckering that indicated her clit was erect.
Stacy wandered inside through a sliding glass door in the patio. There, she found herself in a clothing-optional playroom of sorts. The dark haired woman who had last week given Stacy the best cunnilingus of her life was lying on a chaise lounge. She barely looked up to acknowledge her when Stacy walked in. Perhaps it was because there were two women seated between her legs and each of them had an index finger inside her cunt. Those two women were both thrusting their index fingers in and out of the dark haired woman in a cooperative finger fuck.
