There is no way to express enough gratitude to author/editor
SueDanym
, who is like a doctor of words, identifying , diagnosing and then treating each of my verbal maladies with the appropriate therapy, including surgery when necessary. Follow the link to the author's story page, and you'll find no one can make consensual sadism/masochism as orgasmic as this writer.
*
Nothing good ever comes from drinking too much booze. Some effects are obvious, like deaths caused by drunk drivers, cirrhosis and violence perpetrated by inebriated cretins.
Even when there's no physical trauma, scars to the psyche take a long time to heal. Too much alcohol can cause people to say or do things that hurt those they love. One unhappy incident can start a ripple that grows into a tidal wave.
Nolan Foreman was thinking those thoughts as he stood completely naked inside his front door. He had just closed it behind his wife's friend, Peaches.
Before leaving, she had stepped back and looked at him. He turned his head and then flinched. Despite what they had just done, he still felt embarrassed as her eyes slowly scanned his body.
She chuckled as he carefully shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted to bring his feet together and cover his genitals with his hands, but he knew better than to do that.
She leaned over and put her face within inches of his package as she examined it. She straightened up, laughed and said, more to herself than him, "Pathetic little prick indeed!"
A moment later she was out the door.
After what had happened in the last couple of hours, he was amazed that his thoughts were rational, let alone philosophical. His body was still trembling, yet he was contemplating the big picture and big question at the center of it: Was his life with Tempest over? Was his family destroyed?
He thought about how fragile a marriage was, and for a moment, he felt as guilty as he had during the past few weeks. But his body still felt the day's events, and physical pain, mental anguish and anger pushed the guilt from his mind.
*************
The adult barbecue on the last weekend of the summer was at the home of Peaches and Spice this year. Spenser was his real name, but his baby sister began calling him Spice before she could talk, and the nickname stuck.
Peaches was the most fun to be around of anyone in the group. She had a twisted sense of humor and made everyone laugh.
The kids loved her, because she enthusiastically participated in their craziest schemes without talking down to them. Auntie Peaches' goody bag was always full of candies and treats. They had no idea that she was always channeling their energy into safe activities to make sure they didn't hurt themselves.
The children wouldn't be coming home from their sleep-away camps until the following weekend, so Nolan, Tempest and their friends could let their hair down at the barbecue without setting a bad example. It was always on a Saturday. Sunday was for sleeping late and nursing hangovers.
The eight couples had been close for more than ten years. They had all been neighborhood newlyweds at one time and liked each other so much that they made the effort to continue seeing each other even after some couples had moved away.
There were no extra-marital sexual connections between any of the eight, but they did engage in light-hearted flirting and told dirty jokes in mixed company. They were comfortable with saying anything to everybody because they all knew everything about each other -- career obstacles, health challenges, marital tensions and problems with children.
Each of them had idiosyncrasies, which the others accepted. Paige's was the most challenging. She was an exhibitionist.
Some of the women were prettier than Paige, but none spent as much time as she did on making herself look not just good, but seductive. To be the center of attention, she worked out often and was lithe and fit. She didn't go as far as surgery, but then she didn't need to. Her breasts were ample, and her ass was round and firm. At the barbecue, she always displayed her assets in the skimpiest of bikinis.
Her outrageous behavior matched her outfits. She didn't act and talk that way every day, but nothing inhibited her when she was with her close friends. They were amused by her antics and let her get away with pretending to be a wanton woman.
She enjoyed targeting the husbands and coming on strong. She never backed off from her suggestive conversation or body contact until her prey of the evening became embarrassed and fled, sometimes almost running from her while hiding a hard-on. That provoked her lusty, infectious laughter that soon had others laughing with her -- mostly the men, but often the women, too.
Tempest was not amused at Paige's antics, especially when she went after Nolan. Peaches, who was her closest friend, asked her once why she didn't just shrug it off and was shocked when Tempest fell to pieces.
Over the next several months, Peaches became a surrogate therapist, mostly listening as Tempest told of her childhood and teenage years spent watching her mother remain with a husband who couldn't control his sex drive. Her father's cheating heaped so much humiliation on them that Tempest couldn't look any of her classmates or teachers in the eye.
She had reinvented herself in college and put those devastating years behind her, but occasionally there was a trigger that unleashed all the memories of mortification that she had suppressed. Paige's games bothered her, and when they involved Nolan, she saw Nolan as her father and herself in her mother's role. That made her lose it.
Nolan tried to keep away from Paige as much as possible to avoid Tempest's screaming attacks after they got home. Since he had been eluding her, Paige set her sights on him at the barbecue. For her, it was the thrill of the challenge.
She maneuvered him into a sexual guessing game. They asked each other the most disgusting trivia questions, and whoever answered incorrectly had to do a shot of tequila. She beat him handily, and he quickly downed ten shots to her five. But since Paige was much smaller than Nolan, she was almost as drunk as he was when he missed on, "What is a rusty trombone?"
She proposed that instead of drinking another shot, his forfeit was to get them each a Long Island ice tea and bring the drinks to the hot tub. He had a slight feeling of unease, but he was so drunk that it barely registered as he staggered to the bar.
The hot tub was on the side of the house and hidden from the large backyard patio where everyone else was swimming, eating and drinking. Paige was already immersed in the tub when he joined her. She extended her arms to take the drinks from him and put them on the deck as he got in.
They sipped their potent mixtures and joked about their game. Soon they were laughing like loons, but he stopped in shock when she moved her body against his under the water.
"Are you...?" he asked with his eyes wide.
"As a jaybird," she said with a big laugh. "And I'm standing right where the hot water jets are shooting into my pussy and massaging my clit."
He looked down but couldn't see anything through the bubbles. When he looked up, he didn't see her anymore, but he felt her hands tugging at his suit. He reached down to stop her but it was too late. Her head re-emerged, and then she thrust her arm into the air in triumph.
"Now you are, too!" she proclaimed. "We're both nudists."
He looked up and saw his trunks in her fist.
Despite the alcohol clouding his brain, his bareness still made him blush. He didn't mind being the voyeur for Paige's exhibitionism, but this role reversal frightened him. Public speaking made him nervous. He realized public nudity was a million times worse. He took a few quick gulps of liquid courage.
The Long Island iced tea remedy worked, because his shame and fear disappeared, along with all intelligible thought. His other senses were still working, but his brain wasn't.
