We collapsed in each other's arms, slick with perspiration. I could feel the hard nubbins of Mary's nipples sliding across my slippery chest, and, unbelievably, I felt my erection begin to recover within seconds of my final ejaculation. Mentally, too, I was still in a state of extremely heightened stimulation.
The only thing wrong with our volcanic mutual climax had been that I hadn't actually been inside the velvety warmth of Mary's vagina when it happened. In fact, the underside of my cock had been grinding against her pubic bone as she jerked and spasmed in the final throes of ecstasy, and there had been a few seconds when the torrent of banked-up semen had been unable to get out, so hard was the pressure of her clitoris against me – but then she had pulled back momentarily, and the jets of come had spurted out, all over her belly and thighs.
As my cock recovered, now, I could feel it being laved in the incredibly sensuous mixture of perspiration, semen and Mary's own juices as it languorously lengthened and hardened against her soft, yielding lower body. I don't think I ever loved her, or wanted her, as much as I did at that moment.
Deep down, a still, small voice was whispering that, in the cold light of day, I – we – would want to re-examine the events and conversations which had brought us to this peak of shared ecstasy, but, right now, all moral questions were firmly on the back burner and my sensuality was firmly in command.
In the depths of recollection, I recalled every word – punctuated, as it had been, by the ragged gasps of Mary's impending final orgasm.
"Do you wish I'd let him take me outside to play with my naked tits – like he wanted to – then put his hand up my skirt to feel my wet cunt?"
"I wanted him to take me outside and stand me up against the wall of the house and fuck me!"
Even in the bedroom, while we were making love, Mary had never, ever, before spoken like that. In fact, we were not great talkers during 'the act', at all – oh, we did plenty of moaning and gasping and sighing, but I couldn't really recall us having a conversation, beyond the 'foreplay' stage, before.
And that last primeval scream of Mary's, on the word 'me', was quite unprecedented. Her orgasm was usually heralded by a quickening series of little gasps, followed by a long, shuddering one as her body stiffened in the moment of climax. Just the thought of that long drawn-out wail was enough to restore my cock to full erection, and I slithered downwards to position it between her thighs.
As I moved position, Mary gave a little moan of protest, and tightened her arms round me. I slid a hand up between us and cupped a naked breast. I could feel a very erect nipple pressing against my palm, and I moved my hand across its tip.
Mary shivered with pleasure, and one of her hands slipped between our bellies and closed round my cock, giving it a loving squeeze.
"Charlie," she breathed. Her voice was hesitant, nervous. I leaned my head back on the pillow to look at her. In the moonlight, I could see her eyes – large, round and serious, fixed on my face. I moved back towards her and kissed her mouth. It never tasted sweeter. Her soft, full lips opened slightly and my tongue quested inside, meeting hers. My passion began to build up again and, again, I moved slightly, to part her thighs and open her cunt to receive me.
Before, when we were making love, I always thought of her vagina as her 'cunt', but I never said so and, before tonight, I had never heard her even use the word. Now, when it came into my mind, it was as I had heard Mary saying it, and it was twice – three times – as exciting. My prick throbbed in anticipation – but Mary's fingers closed round it, easing it away from her opening, and her mouth slid from under mine.
"Charlie," she repeated. "I didn't think you'd be like this. I thought you'd be jealous – possessive …"
"So did I," I whispered, "but … but – well, do I have any reason to be? I mean – are you in love with Billy, or …?"
"Oh no!" she said, loudly, then instinctively covered her mouth as she remembered the children. "No!" she whispered, vehemently. "You know I love you!"
"Well, then," I said, trying to sound cool, but my heart leaping like a boy's as I realised that my question had been serious, and that I had been a little fearful of the reply.
There was a short silence. I realised Mary wanted to go on talking and, at first, I was disappointed – even resentful. Like most men, when I want the feel of a warm vagina wrapped round my cock, anything that gets in the way of that tends to be an unwelcome distraction. In an attempt to concentrate her mind on the important thing, I lowered my head to her breast and ran my tongue lightly over her nipple.
Mary ran her fingers through my hair, but it was an affectionate, rather than a passionate, gesture – then I became aware that she was talking again.
"Charlie – I want to try to explain," she said, lightly pulling my hair so that I raised my head to look at her. She bent forward to kiss me, quickly, and went on.
"You know I love you – and the kids – and I'm not unhappy and – really – everything's OK, but – well – sometimes I just get – excited, and, then, I just can't help myself!"
I had been, I realised, 'saving' the beach barbecue incident – especially after Mary's earlier references to it had differed so radically from Billy's version. I thought, because of the 'group sex' aspect, Mary might be more reluctant to disclose what really happened there, but the thought that she might be preparing to tell me about it, now, made my mouth dry in anticipation.
But she had said 'sometimes'. Did that mean that there was even more? Again, I lifted my head and settled it on the pillow, next to hers. My balls were tight with anticipation as I waited for her to continue.
"Like – with Billy tonight," Mary went on, after a short pause. "I didn't mean – when I started dancing with him, I mean – for him to touch me … there."
"On your tits," I whispered, a little stir of excitement moving me – I wanted to hear her say it.
"Yes," she breathed, catching my mood. "I didn't mean to let him feel my – tits."
"But he did," I said. "He had his hands on your tits, playing with your nipples …"
"Yes – he did – but …" she carried on, quickly, not giving me a chance to interrupt, "… I didn't mean him to, when we started to dance. At first, we weren't dancing close together – it wasn't until the music changed, and got slower, that we came together. Then, well, someone turned the lights down and Billy came in close. He cupped his hands round my behind and I felt his – his cock – pressing against me. Sometimes, when that happens, the man eases back – but Billy didn't. I could feel – he was pushing it against me. He wanted me to feel it. It was very hard, and – and – I began to feel – excited …"
Mary took my hand and pressed it against her mound. Pressed against the apex of her thighs, my middle finger could feel the dampness of fresh juices flowing.
"Ohhh," she muttered. "That's what started – between my legs – and he knew it! He moved one of his hands up my back and pushed gently, so that my breasts were pressed against his shirt. Then he started whispering things – into my ear."
"What things?" I had to know.
"The same as you," Mary breathed. "He said I had the nicest breasts in the room, and asked if I could feel how much he liked them."
"What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything. But, I nodded my head, against his shoulder – and he moved his cock against me, again, in a sort of circular motion, then bent his knees a little and pushed it against – you know …"
"Against your cunt," I breathed. Mary nodded, and I didn't insist on her saying it. My fingers were now sliding along her lips, which were slick with her running moisture.
"Then his hand slid up between us and closed round my breast. He squeezed it, softly, and I couldn't help moving myself against him – against the bulge of his cock. I was so wet, by then! Then he unbuttoned part of my blouse and put his hand inside, and squeezed one of my breasts – on top of my bra. I wanted him to touch my nipples, Charlie – they were aching to be touched – and … and I told him my bra opened at the front! We had moved into a really dark corner of the room, and I stayed pressed right up against him, so that no-one would see us. Billy got my bra open, then he squeezed my left tit really hard. My back was against the wall and I pushed my – bottom half – hard against him, really grinding into his erection – and, and then – he came! I heard him give a little groan, then he pushed hard against me and began shaking …"
She clamped her hand, hard, on top of mine and pressed it against her, with a long shuddering sigh. The she released the pressure, and expelled a long breath.
"But, almost immediately, I started thinking of you, and all the guilt feelings came back. I feel such a hypocrite, Charlie – I've always been so 'against' that sort of thing. I've always been scared of you – with another girl – and what it might lead to – and you've been very good. I know you have – I'd have heard if you'd done anything like that …"
"And now – I almost wish you had," she went on, after a pause. "In fact, I do wish you had."
"Is that why you asked about Beverley?" I asked.
The temperature had dropped after Mary had described Billy's involuntary ejaculation, but I could sense it was just simmering. I wanted to bring it back closer to the boil, and I had a feeling there was something in her reference to Beverley – possibly leading to the barbecue incident. At one time, Mary and Beverley had been quite close – had Beverley once said something about me? I hadn't, in fact, ever 'played around' with her, but we had had a few close encounters on the dance floor and she had probably sensed my excitement, although I was sure I hadn't been as blatant about it as Billy …
