KATE AND EDITH TOO
Part THREE of FIVE
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GOOD CLEAN FUN
I. NIGHT OUT
On Friday, I capped the workweek with a twelve-hour day, mostly outside in the heat, and I was exhausted by the time I got home. When I came through the door, I heard laughter coming from the kitchen nook.
"We're in here, babe," Liz called.
When I walked in, both women stood, I think to intentionally wow me with how they looked. They were dressed to the nines.
Liz had on one of her CFM party outfits, a matching pale-blue, very thin, very revealing blouse and pants outfit. The sleeveless blouse has a plunging neckline, and she wears a sheer, Lily of France bra with it that pushes her breasts together, maximizing her display of cleavage; also, her substantial nipples are evident as they press against the thin material. The pants have billowy legs, but are form-fitting around the waist and buttocks. She wore a thong under that, so through the material, her firm, shapely, butt cheeks were fairly obvious.
Jen was wearing a sleeveless, alabaster white, linen vest, which buttoned down the front and ended in points that flanked, and exposed her long, sexy navel. The bottom hem stopped short of her pants, also exposing part of her darkly-tanned midriff. Matching, snugly-tailored, hip hugging pants, with full, gently flared legs, showcased her small firm buttocks and slightly prominent hip bones, which were evident above the low-slung waist of the pants. It was obvious that she was wearing nothing under the vest; and I discovered that from the side, you could partially see the shape and curve of her small, shapely breasts.
As tired as I was, I was instantly reinvigorated and a little aroused.
Liz chirped, "Hi honey, I know you're probably tired, but suck it up; we're going dancing! Get a shower. I have your clothes laid out."
"Dancing it is. I'll hurry."
As I turned, Liz called out, "And put on your good cologne."
After showering and putting on my 'good' cologne, which meant the expensive stuff, I got dressed. Liz had chosen a dark-gray polo that is essentially a muscle shirt, as it's a size smaller than I normally wear. I don't know what the material is, but it is very smooth and soft-feeling with a slight sheen to it. She says it enhances my 'hunkiness'. She matched it to a pair of dark-gray, pleated slacks, which hug my butt, again enhancing my hunkiness.
Yes, apparently, I also have a hunky butt.
As soon as I was ready, we piled in my wife's car and headed to a Chinese restaurant that is near a dance club that suits us. The club is a high-end place, well-appointed, and features the mix of music we like. It is expensive, with a steep cover charge and pricey drinks, which helps attenuate the crowd. It attracts a more mature clientele than many of the other clubs - mostly young professionals and what I categorize as 'well-heeled, middle-aged party goers', not quite 'jetsetters. A smattering of college students rounds out the mix.
We arrived at the club around 8:00, which is early for the place, and were able to secure one of the 'stool-high' tables near the dance floor, which had four of the tall chairs around it. After we got our first round of drinks, I had to hit the john, and when I returned, there were already three guys hitting on the ladies. Two of them had helped themselves to the vacant seats.
I walked up, put my hand on the back of a chair and leaned down next to the guy sitting in it.
"My chair," I said just loud enough to be heard over the din.
"Beat it," he said off-handedly, only half-glancing my way.
I sized up the three guys and concluded the subtle approach wasn't going to work.
I leaned in next to the guy's ear, "Out of my chair, asshole."
Now, he turned and looked at me, giving an arrogant sneer, "There are three of us, dickhead, what are you going to do, kick all our asses?"
"Maybe, maybe not. But I guarantee, 'you' won't walk out of here. Now, leave quietly; you have one second to accomplish that while you're still able."
He did a split-second assessment and made the right decision, sliding off the seat, motioning to his friends and splitting.
My wife couldn't hear, but she had been watching the exchange. She gave me a questioning look.
I leaned over, "He was reluctant to leave. I was persuasive."
She grinned.
Jen put a hand on my arm and leaned towards me. I turned and leaned in.
"I didn't like them. And it looked like that guy was going to be trouble."
"He thought you were gorgeous and didn't want to leave. I told him you had genital herpes."
She sat back, eyes wide, then cracked up and slapped my arm.
The rest of the night was much more pleasant, but with no lack of guys hitting on the women. Every time I took one sister out to dance, the other would be courted by some guy; which worked well. I would have never got to leave the dance floor if I had been responsible for keeping both women entertained the whole night. We danced till about 11:30, early by Friday night party standards, but by that time, we were deaf and the place was getting too crowded to enjoy the dancing.
As I was saying, the sisters attracted a lot of traffic, but most of the guys bailed after one dance and finding out they weren't going to get lucky. I was hoping one of them might catch Jen's eye, but that didn't materialize. Towards the end of the evening, a nice-looking guy, Jeff, joined us for a bit. Unfortunately, he was interested in Liz; and Jen wasn't attracted to him, anyway. Though he seemed decent, and was pretty buff - a kind of compact version of me, I think his 5'-8" height didn't appeal to her.
I didn't discover until just before we left that Jeff didn't know Liz was my wife. When he came to our table, I was slow dancing with Jen, then we stayed on the floor for another song, one which he used to ask Liz to dance. For a while, they were on the floor while we were at the table and vice versa. Then when we all ended up sitting together, the flow of conversation never identified that I was with Liz and not Jen. When I told Jeff we were leaving, he asked if there was a chance that Liz would like his company and could he join us. I informed him that she might but I wouldn't as she was my wife. He was caught completely unaware, and was disappointed. I wished him happy hunting and we made our escape.
We did have a great time, and when we got home, Liz was in fine spirits, acting giddy, and I knew it wasn't because of alcohol; we hadn't had that much to drink, and had burned off what we did have.
II. COMPARISONS
As soon as we were in the door, she announced, "It's a beautiful night. Let's go skinny dipping! Honey, will you whip up some of your fabulous margaritas. Come on Jen," she called and headed through the house, stripping off her clothes.
As Liz breezed out the back door, bare-ass naked, Jen looked at me. I just shook my head and shrugged, "Fabulous margaritas, comin' up," and headed to the bar. When I came out with the drinks, the girls were at the other end of the pool by the waterfall, backs to the pool coping, arms stretched out and draped over it. They were talking and laughing, and swishing their feet in the water.
"Hey, honey, could you bring the drinks over here?" Liz yelled across the pool.
I cringed. Our neighbors may not have the best hearing, and are not close to our backyard, but I was afraid they heard that.
"Of course, madam," I answered and brought the tray with a picnic pitcher of margaritas and picnic tumblers to where they were hanging on the side.
I got down and handed each of them a plastic tumbler, and as I did, I couldn't help but observe my wife's ample breasts bobbing on the surface of the water, and Jen's lovely, firm breasts riding just above the waterline.
Liz took her right arm off the pool coping, turned and reached for the proffered drink. On my left, Jen did the same with her left hand as she turned to the right and reached up.
Taking the drink, Liz flashed a big smile, "Thanks, hon," then gave me a look and chided, "What are you staring at?"
I answered unabashedly, "Jen's beautiful tits...oh, and yours!" I remarked, being a bit of a wise ass.
"So, comparing again, are we?" she smirked.
"A guy's got a have a hobby."
"So, what's the verdict? What have you concluded from your comparison?" she asked, adopting a serious look and tone.
Affecting the same tone, I replied, "Well, so far, it's an incomplete comparison. I've only been able to visually observe, and previously only got a very brief feel of said breasts against my chest; hardly enough for a thorough, scientific comparison."
"Well sir, I guess you're going to have to do some more extensive research."
"What do suggest?" I asked.
"I suggest you get those clothes off and get in this pool, now!" she barked.
As I stood, she quickly added, "No, Jack, over there. Go over there and stand. Then do a striptease for us," she giggled.
Jen piped up, "Floorshow!"
I walked around the pool to the spot Liz indicated, set my drink down, then started slowly and seductively pulling my polo over my head while gyrating and doing the best striptease, I knew how. Both Liz and Jen immediately started doing the stripper ditty, again loud enough that I was afraid our neighbors would be disturbed by them.
As I was certain it wasn't the right time to try and enforce proper decorum, I figured we would have to apologize to our neighbors, tomorrow; unless of course, they called the police in the interim.
After stripping off my shirt, I twirled and tossed it.
Before pulling my pants off, I struck a pose and flexed, just being silly.
Jen audibly gasped, "Oh my!"
Liz remarked, "He is a specimen, isn't he?"