The Canasta Club Ill Show You Mine

On Wednesday evening I was watching an episode of the A-team on the small black & white TV in my living room when the phone rang. It was Sharon, and she had a proposition. One of her co-workers had a studio apartment up in Gig Harbor that she rented out during the summer, but they just had a cancellation, and her friend had told Sharon that she could have it for the weekend if she wanted it.

Gig Harbor wasn't far, only about twelve miles up the road from Tacoma, but it was the first town you'd go through on the way to the Olympic Peninsula. It was basically a picturesque seaside village that was a popular weekend retreat for people looking to get away from urban Seattle or Tacoma. I'd driven through it a couple of times, but I never stayed there.

Sharon told me that she'd just gotten off the phone with her mother who was delighted to watch her two grandchildren over the weekend, and now unencumbered, she wanted to know if I'd like to join her for a couple of days. I'd just flown back from Bakersfield, California where, as an Army officer, I'd accompanied the body of a nineteen-year-old Army private killed in Vietnam and delivered it to his distraught parents with the "Thanks of a grateful nation." I myself had just rotated back to the States from my second tour there, and I hated the duty that I'd been assigned. I was more than ready for a break, so I accepted Sharon's offer immediately. We arranged to meet early Friday afternoon as soon as Sharon got off from work.

I had only been in the area a couple of months and was living in an apartment in Tacoma counting the days until my six-year Army commitment would be up and I could resign my commission. Two tours to a war that I didn't even understand why we were fighting had disillusioned me beyond redemption. I had met Sharon in a nearby bar and we'd hit it off pretty quickly. She was married with two kids to an Air Force Staff Sergeant who had just been posted to Vietnam and she was lonely. We'd become friends with benefits and I liked being with her. A couple of days in a love nest in Gig Harbor sounded good to me.

Since it was the middle of the summer, I didn't need to pack much for two and a half days, so I just threw a few things in a gym bag and picked up Sharon at the dental clinic where she worked as a hygienist. Her bag was a little larger than mine, but not much.

Sharon was a couple of years older than my twenty-seven and I was attracted by her outgoing personality and molten. sexuality. She only had average looks but I thought she bore a passing resemblance to Sissy Spacek, the movie actress, since she had the same wide eyes and lush lips. The fact that both women had long brown hair that fell to their shoulders just emphasized the comparison. Sharon waved as soon as she saw me waiting and threw her bag in the small storage area behind the front seats of my Datsun 1500. I had bought the Japanese rip-off of the British MGB sports car a couple of months ago and with the mild temperature, I'd lowered the top. When Sharon first saw my wheels, she informed me that it wasn't a Datsun, it was a LRSW. When I'd exhibited puzzlement, she'd grabbed me by the arm and whispered in my ear... "Little Red Sex Wagon."

Sharon's smiling face and bubbly personality were just what I needed after dealing with the stark reality of war. The various "bereavement" details that I'd pulled since I'd arrived at Ft. Lewis were beginning to wear on me. In my last deployment to Vietnam, I'd commanded an infantry company and had seen firsthand the idiocy of our involvement and accompanying the bodies of dead soldiers, and looking in the eyes of their loved ones wasn't helping.

Sharon flopped into the passenger's seat wrapped both of her arms around my one and leaned across the console and kissed my cheek. "I'm so looking forward to the next couple of days," she gushed and I seconded the motion. I shifted the five-speed gearbox into first and Sharon raised both arms and yelled " Wheeeee" when we took off.

As I said, Gig Harbor is only a short drive from Tacoma, but it seemed like a world away. Though it's technically not an island it seems like it is because you have to cross a bridge over the Tacoma Narrows to get to it. From the top of the bridge, you can see a panoramic view of the town, the cute harbor that now sports mostly pleasure craft rather than working boats, and the Olympic mountains in the distance. Sharon squealed with pleasure at the gorgeous view and I smiled at her exuberance. We really hadn't talked very much during the drive since one of the downsides of a convertible is the road noise and the wind whipping by make it difficult. The one piece of information that I'd gotten was that Sharon had told her mother when she'd dropped off her kids that she was spending the weekend with a girlfriend.

The studio apartment was located on the second floor of a building on Harborview Drive. The first level was commercial and occupied by a fishing and tackle store and a gift shop. We had to park in the rear and climb a set of outdoor stairs to get to it. The apartment was small, consisting of basically two rooms. The living room and kitchen were essentially one big area only separated by a dining bar. The bedroom occupied the rest of the space, but one end was all glass with French doors that opened onto a deck that had a magnificent view of the harbor. There was only one queen-sized bed, but I was sure that we wouldn't need more than one. The walls displayed an array of nautically themed art and the place looked and smelled clean. We threw our modest luggage into the bedroom closet and Sharon wrapped her arms around my neck and stood on her toes as she looked into my eyes. "Thank you so much for coming. I want you to know that I plan to make this a weekend that you'll not soon forget." Rather than respond verbally, I just pulled her against me with one hand and copped a feel of her breast with the other while giving her an appreciative open-mouthed kiss." When she pulled away, I could see her eyes sparkle and she said, "Wow! I'll just regard that as a portent of things to come, but right now you need to feed me, I'm starved."

We walked along the waterfront and soon found a bar/restaurant with some outdoor seating. The sun was still high in the sky and was more than enough to warm the cool breeze that was blowing off the water. Sharon asked me about my week and I gave her a very abbreviated recap of my trip to Bakersfield, but it wasn't a topic that I wanted to really discuss, so I changed the subject to Sharon's Canasta Club.

A few weeks prior, she had mentioned the club which had been formed by a friend of hers. There were about ten ladies who got together once a week in her home to play cards and have lunch. Most of the women were army or air force wives and with the personnel demands of the war in Vietnam, many of their husbands had been deployed just as Sharon's husband Lou had been. She explained that she noticed that over the last couple of years, the group's conversations had begun to change from talk about kids and recipes to more discussions about loneliness and sexual frustrations. A few weeks ago, Sharon had opened up about our relationship which had caused quite a stir and had ultimately led to something that happened to me just a week ago.

One of the other members of the group was a woman named Peggy. She'd been a friend of Sharon's since high school. Unlike most of the other members, her husband David wasn't in the military, but they were having some marital difficulties and sexual frustrations of a different order. As Peggy related to me, David was timid in the bedroom and had begun to exhibit some behaviors that indicated that he was either gay or at the least, bi-curious.

In a surprising series of events that I've previously described, I ended up being "shared" with Peggy, and the previous Friday I had been invited to her home where I took her to bed in front of her husband where she sucked my cock and I ate her pussy to one mind-blowing orgasm and fucked her to a second. It was the first time that I'd ever been involved in something like that, but Sharon had told me that Peggy wasn't the only member of the Canasta Club who had expressed an interest in my services. I thought I'd like her to enlighten me.

During our brief relationship, Sharon had been open about the fact that she not only understood that it was temporary, but that neither of us owed anything to the other. We were friends with benefits, but nothing more. She was committed to her marriage with Lou and from her description of him, he sounded like someone I would enjoy being friends with, plus she was a mother of his 🕑;;; children. I admired the fact that she was open and honest and with no hidden agenda, I felt as comfortable with her as any person I'd ever met.

"I thought you'd get around to asking me about that," Sharon replied with a hint of sarcasm. "You're so predictable. Do men ever think about anything other than pussy?" I laughed at her insight which I'm sure is likely shared by a lot of women who think that men only need food, sleep, and sex, but I countered, "And you're telling me you don't think about cocks?" Sharon smiled at my retort and reached over and took my hand. "Well, I have been thinking about yours, if that's what you mean." We were in too public a place for me to do what immediately filled my mind, so I went back to my original question." The Canasta Club?"

Sharon took a drink of her beer and said, "Oh that," and gave me her cat that swallowed the canary smile. "Well, Dawn asked me why I looked so happy and wanted to know if I'd just gotten laid. I don't know, it just sort of came out about you and me. Afterward, Dawn, Rachel, and Kate all came up to me and wanted to know all the dirty details. All of their husbands are deployed at the moment and each of them had previously expressed some level of dissatisfaction about their enforced celibacy, so there wasn't any question in my mind about the nature of their interest. Also, they know that I'm committed to Lou, so I guess they thought I might be willing to share." Sharon thought her last comment was funny and she chuckled after she said it. "Of course, there was also Peggy, but you already know about her." Sharon laughed some more, only louder this time. I tried to figure out which she thought was funnier, my naked interest in them, or theirs in me, but it was probably both and, of course, the fact that Sharon recognized her role as a broker in the situation may have also added something to her sense of humor.

When she noted that I had been properly chastised, Sharon went on to describe the ladies under question.

Dawn was thirty-one and her husband Ben was an Air Force maintenance mechanic. She had two children and was from Ohio. She wore her blonde hair short and she was always outgoing and friendly with a quick smile. Sharon said that Dawn wasn't the chattiest, but you could count on her to always point out some absurdity in any conversation.

Rachel was a little older, maybe thirty-three, and was a southern belle from Georgia. She didn't have any children and while they were now back together, she had recently been separated from her husband Tom, who, like me. was an infantry officer. She couldn't remember the rank. She told me that Rachel kind of looked like Linda Hamilton and had bleached strands in her brown hair. She was probably the smartest woman in the group and was sometimes quite outspoken.

Kate was younger, about my age and Sharon had been in her wedding to Sam two years ago. She was local but her husband, Mike, was from California. He was an Air Force Pathfinder which is their equivalent of an Army forward observer. I had known a few Pathfinders in my time and I knew their job, like mine, was definitely in "harm's way." Sharon liked to use known people when she was describing the women she knew, so in Kate's case, she asked me to think of a short Sigourney Weaver with blonder hair.

Her descriptions went into more detail than I've chronicled here and we not only went all the way through "Happy Hour" but through most of our dinner as well. Sharon had really gotten into thinking about her role as a "quasi-matchmaker" and she began to ruminate on her opinion of my sexual compatibility with each of her friends.

"Um... You would definitely need to seduce Dawn. Though I know she wants to get laid, I don't think she'll make it easy for you. She's a little like you, she grew up in a military family and moved around a lot. That's probably the best way to get a hook into her. I know she likes oral, both ways, so you won't have any problems there. I guess that, if you do seduce her, she'll probably have a month of remorse until you can fuck her again.

"Rachel will be easier, in fact. she'll probably seduce you. I believe she can swing both ways but that's not from personal experience. I know she likes to be taken hard and fast, so don't be timid with her, not that I think you're capable of that. I think she'd welcome a threesome and since I know you'd never agree to the third being a man, it would have to be a woman and that wouldn't be me either.

"Kate did call me about you, but I just don't know. Until she talked to me the other day, I'd never picked up that she was in the sexually frustrated group. She's never opened up about her relationship with Mike nor has she ever shared fantasies when they've been the topic of conversation, so I guess Kate is just one big question mark.

As Sharon was talking, not only did I imagine the women she was describing, but I was also thinking about her. Never in my short experience with members of the opposite sex had I ever encountered a woman who was so sexually open to the point where she could discuss the manner in which I could seduce her friends. I found myself just shaking my head at my own incredible luck.

By the time we left the restaurant, it was dark, and lights all over the harbor had come on. Some reflected off the water and created a certain sense of shimmering magic as we walked back to the apartment. Once inside, I tuned the radio to a station that seemed to be playing soft soulful music and we helped each other dispense with our clothing. Sharon walked over to the windows and asked if she should close the curtains. I was enjoying the view of the harbor and I said no, plus being on the second floor with low lighting, I observed that we couldn't be seen anyway. I sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Sharon's naked body walk back towards me in the dimness.

As I've said, she has the thin sinewy body of a dancer. She's about five-six, but can't weigh more than one hundred and ten pounds. Her breasts are a tad bigger than you would expect and are topped by tasty eraser-shaped nipples in brown areolas. From her face to her arms and then to her legs, her features are delicate and feminine, the only real flaw being a small pooch just above her pussy that's a leftover testament to her childbearing.

When she got to me, I embraced her without getting up, which put my face level with her chest, so I just wrapped my arms around her and took a nipple into my mouth. Sharon cooed when she felt my touch and just embraced my head in her thin arms and laid her chin on my hair. The radio was playing "Unchained Melody" and I could immediately feel at peace with the world. I suckled on Sharon until the music changed and we laid down together. I put my arm around her neck and she snuggled her head onto my shoulder and threw her naked leg over mine. We lay quietly for a moment until Sharon raised her eyes and whispered, "I have a plan."

"And what is your plan, General," I asked in my most subservient tone.

"I've been thinking that we have two days and two nights here and I'm concerned that I may sap your strength prematurely. So my plan is this. Tonight the rule is "oral only." I'm going to do something that, believe it or not, I've never done. I plan to look at, taste, savor, and worship your manhood to a degree I've fantasized about, but never really experienced, and I'm going to let you do the same to me. It will be the adult version of "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Even though Sharon was looking up at my face, I wasn't sure that in the dim light, she could see my broad smile.

Sharon pushed herself up on one arm and leaned over my body and switched on the bedside lamp but left the three-way bulb on the lowest setting. It was just enough light to fill the room with a golden glow and illuminate the two naked bodies lying on the bed. Sharon looked at me and lowered her lips for a nice kiss before she announced, "We'll start with you." Even in the low light I could sense a sparkle in Sharon's eyes as she pushed the covers off and looked at my exposed nakedness. Her hand slid down and rested on my stomach as she leaned forward and her eyes focused directly on my cock.

I didn't think my currently flaccid penis was all that impressive. It was only about four inches long and laid lazily across my thigh, but it did twitch when my brain registered the fact that a naked woman was staring at it with interest. Sharon's eyes remained fixated on my maleness when she asked, "What are you feeling right now as I'm looking at you?" "Well, up here... " I pointed at my head, "I feel a certain excitement that you're looking at me, but down there, I don't feel much at all."

Sharon reached and grasp my cock in her fingers and lifted it off my leg. When she rotated her wrist, it flopped from side to side in her grasp, the weight of the head too much for the soft column of flesh beneath to support. "You know," Sharon whispered, "I kind of like playing with you like this. You've always been so aroused before that I've never really held you in my hand this way. Believe it or not, I feel excited."

As she was talking, I doubled the pillow under my head so that I had a better view of what Sharon was doing. The view of her leaning and holding my cock was interesting it itself, her hair fell both in front of and behind her shoulder but it still allowed me to see her full breast in profile beneath her thin arm that was extended and holding my still soft dick.

In a way, I could relate to what Sharon was saying. I, myself, had played with it just as she was doing for almost as long as I could remember. Most of my frequent masturbation sessions had begun with fondling my limp cock as I looked at or read porno, or just imagined erotic scenes in my head. I'd squeeze the shaft and rub the soft head between my fingers as a preliminary to the stroke session that was sure to follow as blood rushed and firmed the muscles.

Sharon was still fondling me when she briefly glanced at my face before she leaned forward and took me in her mouth. The sudden warmth sent a lightning bolt of pleasure to my brain and I felt the first tinge of arousal as a tingling sensation in my shaft and balls. Sharon rolled me around in her mouth for only a moment before she leaned back and looked at the effect. I may have firmed slightly, but the flesh she still held in her hand wasn't all that different. "I liked that," Sharon announced, "Lou is like that sometimes when I start to blow him and it just feels so different than later when he's hard and stiff."

Sharon moved a little closer, as if to more studiously observe her subject.

"This part at the top, the head?... It's particularly sensitive, is it?"

"It... can be," I replied. "And usually... eventually... Yes, it is. Quite sensitive, actually."

"What gets it to be so sensitive?" Sharon asked. I couldn't tell if she's was getting clinical or just teasing. I'm not sure where we were in, what seemed to be, the examination phase of her plan, and at that, my cock twitched... at what? The uncertainty about what she was doing and at the potential of what might follow.

Still sitting beside me, Sharon lifted my cock with her left hand and ran a finger of her right one very lightly around the rim just below the head.