John and Sarah were friends we knew from the neighborhood. He changed jobs to the center city, and with the traffic being murder around here and there being nice real estate available there, they made the break with what had been their first home. They didn't have kids, while we did, so we weren't really that close. We saw each other at the occasional cultural event, both our wives being opera fans, while John and I enjoyed it mildly. For a couple of years there had been nothing more than those occasional reacquaintances, and not any of those for about a year. Then we ran into them again last fall at the local opening of Turandot. By that time, we were both early 40s husbands with late 30s wives, all of us of reasonable appearance and physical condition.
Actually, John works out more than I, and Jenny more than Sarah. John is an inch taller than I am, blond and lean, a regular swimmer and cyclist. We always got along well, and if I'd have thought he was after Jenny, I'd have been worried, since they're more alike in a lot of ways than Jenny and I are. But that never seemed to be the case.
Jenny is 5'5", also blond and slim, in not quite buff but great shape from regular running and machine exercising. She has 34B breasts that have sufficient mass to have developed enough personality over the years so as not to be mistaken for a teenager's - I like them that way, but she regrets having lost that hardbody thing where they couldn't pass a pencil test when we were first married. Her hips flare a lovely bit, but aren't voluptuous by any means. She's a trim package and fine in bed. She's more serious than I, more focused. She handles the family finances with my appreciation, and very well at that, being damned cheap in some ways, which makes our finances better than they'd be if I were in charge, and she always has distinct opinions. That seriousness lets me be more carefree, knowing that she'll rein me in on crazy ideas, romanticism, and the like. Not a typical relationship, I suppose, but it works.
Meanwhile, I'm darker but not swarthy, more heft than John, but not paunchy (yet). I work out, but it's mostly racquetball and uninspired machine work these days. I'm the artistic one, while Jenny's the scientist. Artists have more fun, trust me.
Finally, Sarah is my idea of hot - hips that drag along your eyes and libido when she walks by, heavy breasts I'd estimate as a 34C at least, maybe D - not too, too much, but with a great fluid motion when she moves. Having noted these things on the various occasions in her company, I conclude that she's rarely braless but wears bras that let her breasts move about a bit, to my, and I'm sure to many men's, delight. Oh yes, she's also brunette, almond-shaped green eyes, about an inch shorter than Jenny, and usually a great tan. She bicycles with John sometimes, but I sense she really isn't the jock like John or Jenny.
So there we were at Turandot. In case you don't know, Turandot's the name of the lead soprano role. She's a babe princess who's got major issues with men in general - anyone who woos her must get a series of riddles right or get beheaded, and so far nobody's gotten them right, until our hero comes on the scene. Naturally, he gets them right; naturally they end up falling for each other by the end. Like so many operas, there are twists along the way, and naturally if you expect a rational, believable plot line, you're in the wrong entertainment medium. That night, at least the singers were actually good looking (a welcome trend in opera - we saw one version years ago where Turandot was so big she had to be wheeled on and off stage - hardly conducive to our suspension of disbelief that the hero was being smitten by her beauty before ever meeting her). Sorry - call me a fatist. I do love a Reubenesque woman, and I can get through a lot for the sake of art, but 300 pounds in Chinese brocade on a wheeled gurney just blew my ability to buy into the story that night, no matter how nice the soprano tones.
We ran into John and Sarah at intermission, chatted over wine, and then after the final curtain saw them again on the way out of the hall. We stopped again on the sidewalk and got into a discussion of how the opera had been. Jenny and Sarah were quite taken with the tenor lead, who played the part as pretty macho yet overwhelmed by his love for Turandot - just the thing to attract American women, never mind the innocent maid he dumps in his quest - if you're good enough, you can make 'em forget that, I suppose. While he was really good, John and I jokingly alleged that their interest was only in his frequently exposed chest, which brought on counter claims that we were both pigs and were more interested in the soprano's cleavage than in her high Cs. It was all in good humor, and led to their asking us to walk the couple of blocks to their condo for more wine and discussion. We were having a fine time and accepted, both our kids having gone to friends' houses for the night.
The night was warm enough to chat for a bit, but none of us was dressed to stay out in it for long, so I was glad for a reason to get back inside the warmth of their place. We passed our car on the way, so it would be a short walk back, I noted. John and I were both in tuxes, since it was opening night after all. Jenny had on a great outfit I'd bought her on a business trip to China. It was a dark green patterned sleeveless vest with one of those rope button tops. Something about it, I wasn't sure what, was very sexy. She'd paired it with a long deep red silk skirt that was slit up way above her knee on one side. Her leg peeked out at you as she walked, the effect being not blatantly come-on, but more enticing, something to make you hope she will come on - and just right for an opera set in opulent China. Sarah had on a softly flowing cocktail dress, the skirt just above her knees, the top a wonderful low scooped front, a back all the way down to just where her hips flared out into that J-Lo sort of ass, and the arms cut low as well, so you wanted to jockey for position, just to see if you could glimpse her breasts from the side. There was no way she could have on any bra I'd ever seen, which heightened the desire to indulge the voyeur. It was hard to keep my eyes elevated - those creamy breasts just beckoned, and when she moved, their liquidity kept my attention. I don't know what the dress was made of, but it hugged her wondrous curves, and from time to time showed her nipples pointing through. I know that hardened nipples don't arise even usually from the woman's sexual excitement, but they do sometimes, therefore just might, and they always get my attention. I thoroughly enjoyed chatting on the street, but having seen the dress at intermission was regretting she had on a coat for the walk home.
Anyway, after a short walk, we found their condo to be very comfortable - modern but not severe. Sort of a Mediterranean look to it, almost Middle Eastern with a low couch and of pillows on the floor in the living room. There was a great kitchen, which they both enjoyed, and they had a wine and liquor selection that would have accommodated a large dinner party easily. Sarah and Jenny were soon chatting over Pinot Grigio, while John and I had shed our jackets and were sipping single malt. The night was cool for the summer, and they had a great view of the city from high up in their building. John and I somehow got to trading ideas on what a great chili should be made of, and we lost track of the girls.
Awhile late, I noticed that there was soft music playing from somewhere, and then Jenny reappeared. There was a twinkle in her eye, indicating something conspiratorial going on, and she was clearly enjoying some plot that we weren't in on. "Hey, guys, we're here too." Jenny said, mocking a pout. Sarah emerged, and I saw a joint in her hand.
She passed it to me, but I declined, "A fine concept indeed, sweetheart, but I don't know that they're expecting us to stay long enough for me to get straight again to drive home. You go ahead, I'll enjoy being good."
"Hey, we've got room - you can crash here and hit the road in the morning," John assured us.
After my pro-forma refusal and his sounding-sincere repeat I caved, "Ah you dog, you coerced me into it!" I thanked him, moving over to Jenny, putting my arm her waist affectionately as I took a deep hit. Soon we'd passed it around and taken it down to the nub, as the pleasing numbness was arriving.
"Great shit," I noted to no one in particular.
Jenny had a somewhat glazed smile on her face and her voice was just a tad slow, "They've got some terrific music in here," she said, tugging me behind her into the living room, "I want to dance."
"Well, dance you shall," I said, pulling her to me. While we were talking about chilis, the ladies had put out candles and on music, turning the room into a dimly sparkling space, the city lights filtering through the light curtains as well. It was dark, but light enough to see, and the effect was romantic and seductive. It was obvious that the women were up for romance. I noticed that both girls had lost their shoes somewhere, which accentuated the height difference between them and us men. I fit Jenny's body to mine, and we danced slowly, no particular step, but with my thigh firmly pressed between her legs, pressing into the pubic bone with each stride. She sighed softly, laid her head on my chest and went up on tiptoes to kiss my neck. I leaned further over to run my tongue and teeth at the nape of her neck, which I know she likes. She moaned a bit more and pressed her hips back at me. I was liking this a lot, then looked over to see John and Sarah in a similar embrace a couple of feet away. He had both his hands on her ample ass, and they were kissing deeply. He had her dress pulled up a good bit in back, and I could see the tops of her dark stockings, and that they were belted. Being a garter belt fan, I enjoyed the view for a moment, then turned Jenny so she could watch as well.
She saw what I was looking at and teased me, whispering, "Aha, so that's what's got you going tonight! I wonder, is that an unregistered weapon in your pocket, or are you just happy to see her legs?"
"I'm happy to be tactically humping you and watching both of you, thanks." I replied.
"Well, it feels fine to me, and you know I never could resist a guy in a tux!"
"Hmm... I guess that means I've got serious competition tonight from John, huh?"
