If there ever was a reason, I don't know it now. My friend was a little drunk...well; maybe drunk is too strong a word but she was definitely half past giggly. Now you only need to know this about my friend; she is gorgeous! And I mean that in the classical sense of the word. She is a dark Mediterranean beauty born in good ol' Oz, the product of an Italian father and an Aussie mother. Even though she's been my oldest and dearest friend since kindergarten I still can't help feeling that little green imp called envy nibbling at my nape whenever I considered her lithe body.
Now I am not exactly ugly either. I have that blond beach babe look that only the best salon can achieve (and I hold a secret hope that the chemicals used to create that image are not carcinogenic) while my boobs are a little over average size and stand up quite well without the support of a bra. My lesser features include a tendency to freckle up in the summer and a rather prominent nose, the legacy of a French background somewhere in my ancestry. However, leaving all that behind, my husband still thinks the world of me.
But we were talking about Janice. Sitting here on 'Lazy Boy' lounges, in the late afternoon sunshine, sipping Moët like it is lemonade has rather uninhibited us to the point where skeletons are veritably leaping out of our closets. I never, ever knew that Janice had the 'hots' for Gerald. Why, you should see her hubby. His name is Kristoffer and it is strongly rumored that back in the 'old country' he is a Baron. Tall, Germanic, with hair like sunlight he makes my pussy tingle whenever he beams that radiant smile at me, as he is often wont to do. My own dear Gerald is through and through Aussie. Sun-tanned to almost a mahogany color with deep blue eyes that laugh all the time while his body is well muscled from working outdoors on construction sites. He has inherited the deep, rusty hair color of his Irish ancestors and with it, their humor and their temper. How life can play jokes huh? My Mediterranean friend with her dark good looks ended up with the surname Von Ritter while I, with my Franco-Scandinavian looks ended up with O'Toole. Thank God for the Irish though; I wouldn't trade my hubby in for a dozen leprechauns and all their gold.
"He is sooooo cute! I don't mind admitting that watching his buns as he walks makes my pussy tingle." Janice giggled, snorting a little as Moët bubbles tickled her nose. She had lovely legs. I watched as she lifted them, moving to keep her balance while her head bobbed in giggling fits. It was my husband she was talking about in that intimate way.
"Well actually," I sniffed, cocking my head a little haughtily and trying to focus my champagne affected eyes, "I think your man is an absolute spunk. So there!"
" You do?" Her dark eyes were somewhat unfocused and the way she had them wide open made her look like a cross-eyed owl.
I snorted into my glass at the thought while waving one hand in front of my face as if to erase those last words.
"Well, I don't mean that I have been panting after him, Janice. I'm merely shaying...um...saying that, summing up all the pros and cons, and being entirely clinical and objective..." I paused for another sip, my eyes looking at her past my brows, watching her expression as she waited for me to finish the sentence.
"What?" She squealed, anticipating my punch-line with glee.
"He's just absolutely fuckable."
She stared at me seemingly for ages, a faint smile playing on those full lips of hers. During that hiatus in conversation she brought her glass to her mouth and imbibed a little more of her 'champers.' I was already beginning to wonder if I had offended her when her smile broke like a splash of sunshine. A little toss of her head sent an errant tress of hair back behind her shoulder.
"Would you?" She asked.
It was my turn to stare. A small trickle of champagne ran down the wrong way making me cough explosively and I beat my breast open handed to alleviate the burning sensation deep in my throat. Recovering my composure, I set my glass down, my eyes still locked on hers.
"Janice, you are my best friend. I would never do that!"
Even as I protested I felt a deep sensation somewhere in the lower part of my belly followed by a rush of moisture in the well of my pussy. Half-formed fantasies danced in my head, cavorting and capering, nimbly avoiding my attempts to swat them back into the abyss from whence they came. Averting my eyes from Janice, I sought the bottle and grasped its neck, lifting it towards me with the intention of replenishing my glass. Like a hard, thick green cock, I thought as my fingers wrapped around the glass now warmed by the sun. Now where did THAT thought spring from?
"What if I asked you too?"
Now I really DID choke on my 'champers.' Having replenished my glass, I had taken a hefty sip and it all rushed like an incoming tide into my lungs. I broke into a coughing spasm that caused warm champagne to cascade from my nose and mouth, almost falling off the Lazy Boy in my effort to sit upright. Janice rose from her lounge and began pounding me on the back. Her face bore an expression that was comical, somewhere midway between amusement and concern, but she continued to administer rough first aid until the spasm passed.
"What? What did you say?" My voice was cracked and rough from the champagne douche and my chest still ached from coughing.
Janice had her arm around my shoulder, her nicely rounded butt pushing against me as she sought enough lounge to sit on. Her face was close to mine and she wasn't smiling now but her large, brown eyes were locked on mine.
"C'mon Wanda. It'd be fun. Don't tell me you have never thought about it?"
"Well..." Now my pussy was absolutely soaked. I felt a heat between my legs that even Gerald hadn't been able to kindle in a long while. She was smiling, sensing my hesitation, knowing that the little 'horned' me on my left shoulder was quarrelling with the little 'haloed' me on the right. Damn that 'horned' me! Or should that be Horny Me, but she was winning hands down.
"I guess." My blush rose from the breasts upward, but I smiled a secretive, sexy smile as my big blue eyes met her dark browns. "But why Janice? What would be in it for you?"
Even as I asked the penny dropped. She winked at me and her gaze floated to where the boys stood at the far side of the pool deep in conversation, each with a Carlton Crown Lager in their hand. Gerald was gesticulating on a point, his back arching toward us. The way he arched back caused his butt cheeks to clench in a most alluring way. Janice actually gasped, grasped her left breast and stroked it twice before returning her attention to me. My head was nodding slowly as my eyes appraised my husband's posterior. How many times had my hands caressed those twin mounds of muscle? How often had I used all my strength to draw him against me, feeling his hard cock slide so deep into my eager cunt that I would gasp in ecstasy?
"Swapsies?" I whispered, looking back into her eyes. Her grin was deliciously wicked as she nodded thrice.
