It would never have happened if we hadn't all been drunk. That's no excuse, of course, and it's probably a good thing none of us has ever spoken about it.
The four us were cycling in France, me and my wife May, with our best friends Eddie and Lisa. We were on a ten-day tour of the wine district south of Dijon, travelling light on easy back roads through the gently rolling hills, stopping in small two-star hotels - guest houses really. The early autumn weather was warm, the food was fantastic, and much of our budget went on the best Burgundy we could afford, nothing but chardonnay and pinot noir.
Eddie and I generally let the girls cycle ahead of us. We told them it was so we could admire the view. And what a view it was. May is slim, lithe, and has a little round ass that will never be plump. Lisa is more of an hour-glass shape, narrow-waisted, more generous breasts, and a curvy bum - a real handful. Of course, in the sunshine they were wearing just shorts and little tank-tops, leaving just enough to the imagination. The countryside and the vineyards were magnificent, but so was our view of those fit and tanned thighs and shoulders.
And in the evenings, what do you think? Two healthy young couples, in their twenties, married not much more than a year - naturally we went to bed early and stayed awake late, fucking like rabbits as Eddie would put it.
The sixth night out though, we arrived at the little town of Peronne, about ten miles from Macon, about five in the evening, and found the little guest house had put us in a single room. There was some consternation from the girls at first, but all the other rooms were occupied. The woman who ran the place took us upstairs and showed us a very large room, with two double beds in opposite corners. Not exactly private but we wouldn't be on top of each other, so it would have to do. At least the bathroom was across the landing.
So instead of the usual home-cooked meal in the guest-house, followed by an early night, we decided to stroll round the town and find a restaurant. Peronne is a historic place, and we saw the 13th century castle and remains of the city walls before walking around the pleasant little lake.
On our hotel lady's advice we ate at the terrace of the Hostellerie des Remparts, with a fine view of the city gate. I still remember the oysters and the herb-crusted lamb. Desert was creme-anglais, a sort of creamy custard on a sauce of sweet blackberries. Fantastic. In the circumstances, no-one suggested an early night, we chatted through several rounds of cognac. May and Lisa were pretty tipsy when Lisa finally said she wanted to turn in, and as for me - well to me they both looked like sexy goddesses. May said Eddie and I should hang around and have another drink, as she didn't want me ogling another woman getting ready for bed.
That was fine, so I ordered another drink, and off went the two girls. Eddie and I talked on about tomorrow's ride, and I don't know what else, while one drink turned into another, then another. Then Eddie came up with his mad idea.
"Jake," he told me, "the girls are pissed, they'll be completely out when we get there."
"Yess, so...?" I slurred.
"It would be terrible to wake them up by turning on the lights."
"Right."
"But how will we know which one is in which bed? We could get in with the wrong wife!"
We both laughed. I know I should have left it as a joke, but I took him half-seriously. I reminded him we had agreed earlier that he and Lisa would take the bed by the window, and May and I would have one nearer the door. We could find them in the dark. But how could we be sure the girls were really asleep?
What we'd have to do, I told him, is get into bed, check our wives were sound asleep, and then after a while quietly go to the bathroom, and 'accidentally' return to the wrong beds.
Eddie must have been having the same fantasies about May as I'd been thinking about Lisa as we cycled along, because he jumped at the idea.
"Let's do it," he said emphatically.
Well, I know it was stupid, I even knew it then, but drink and young lust overruled love and good sense. We paid the bill and unsteadily made our way back to the hotel.
Sure enough, the lights were out when we got upstairs, so without a word we shed our clothes, and as I slipped in beside May I could hear Eddie nestling up to Lisa. May was naked. Not unusual for her, but I'd have thought she'd put on at least a shirt as we were sharing a room. She was on her back, her breathing deep and even as I ran my hand up her smooth belly, and caressed her breast, small and firm in my hand.
I teased her tiny nipple until it was button-stiff, testing her. She stirred slightly, and sighed, but that was all. I squeezed and played with both her mounds, tickling each bud in turn. No change in her breathing. I heard the sheets rustle on the other bed as I moved a hand down.
May keeps her bush trimmed and there was no more than a light fuzz over her pubes. I stroked a finger up and down the downy slit, gradually easing my middle finger into her fold. She was damp. I drew the sticky wetness up to her clit, and gently pressed. The little bud was soon swollen, and if May was even half awake, she would have been reaching for my cock by now. She was breathing a little faster now, and hummed a little moan, but just lay there. May was out for the count, wet and ready for sex, and I was stiff as a stick thinking of what might happen next. Would my friend Eddie be going where only I had gone before?
I slipped out from the sheets, and moved to the door. As I opened it, Eddie joined me, and we stepped into the landing, both naked - but it was dark, with only a little light from the street. I avoided looking at his crotch.
"OK, Lisa's in a coma," said Eddie, "what about May?"
One last chance it pull back, but I didn't take it.
"She's the same," I said, "dreaming, probably of love."
"OK," said Eddie, excitement in his voice, "wait..."
My friend stepped into the bathroom, and flushed the toilet.
"For effect," he said, then: "Let's go."