Saturday Sun

This is my first published story (although I have several that are in some stage of development). I am looking forward to whatever feedback may be offered, including negative (because that's how you learn, right?).

All participants in this purely fictional story are over the age of 18. The description of sexual activities contained within may be offensive to some.

***

"Which one?" she asked, holding up two swimsuits for my perusal. They were both one-piece, one light green with tropical flowers on the side and the other a two-tone blue.

I nodded my head towards the floral print. "That one," I said.

She frowned slightly. "You like that one better than the blue one?"

"I just thought that maybe the blue one showed a little too much skin. It barely covers your boobs." In truth, the straps diagonally criss-crossing her back went over her shoulders and turned into wider fabric that served to adequately cover her breasts while still plunging almost to her navel where they intersected the bottom of her suit.

"Oh, please," she replied mockingly, rolling her eyes. "My boobs would be covered just fine. They're one-piece bathing suits, honey. Neither one shows too much skin."

"Maybe we should call Frank and ask him which one you should wear?" Frank's continuing fascination with my wife's bosom was a long-running joke between us and, in fact, our entire friend group. His laments regarding the unfairness of the "boob distribution" between the wives and girlfriends of men in the group were legendary.

"That's not funny," she retorted. "Besides, Marie is going to be there, isn't she? I don't expect him to misbehave much with wifey there to supervise."

I let out a slightly exasperated sigh and waved my hand at the two suits. "To be completely honest, I don't care which one you wear."

She turned and reached into the closet, then held up a bright pink two-piece that was more a collection of string than an actual swimsuit.

"The blue one is probably more appropriate", I said.

She sniffed slightly, then said, "Fine," before retreating into the bathroom.

---

We walked up the path to Frank & Marie's place, through the gate into the back yard. It was empty, but a second later the screen door banged open and Frank emerged carrying two very frosty-looking beers. He handed me one and quipped, "I saw you drive up. You look like you could use a cold adult beverage."

I raised the bottle in thanks and took a long pull. It was as cold as it looked, and refreshingly delicious. I looked at the label but didn't recognize the brand.

"Belgian," said Frank. "I got hooked on them when we were in Europe last year." He waved towards the door. "Take your steaks and put them in the fridge for now. If you can find room, that is. Marie kind of went crazy with the salads."

"Where is Marie?" I queried, looking around.

"You know her. She can't entertain unless the house is spotless. Plus, we kind of had a late start to the morning." He gave a lascivious wink. "She wants to get her housekeeping done before the house gets too warm. She'll make her way down in a bit."

We walked into the house through the rear door. The vacuum was running upstairs so I didn't think Marie would hear our hellos, but we still shouted them anyway. Our steaks went into the fridge and we made our way back outside where several lounge chairs sat scattered around the patio. Debra looked at the loungers, waved a hand at them, then made a questioning gesture.

Frank just waved his hand. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I mean, there's only four of us."

Debra pulled a large beach towel from her beach bag and spread it out on the lounger almost directly opposite Frank. She glanced up at the sun, then made a show of adjusting the position of the lounger. I knew the game. Her innate modesty required that she position herself so no one could stare directly at her crotch while she sunbathed. She turned her back on Frank and pulled her cover-up over her head, tossed it in the beach bag, and laid down on the lounger, adjusting her bathing suit as she did so. The high-cut sides showed off her shapely legs, which she kept demurely together as she stretched out.

"Mmmmmmm," she sighed as the sun fully hit her body. "Now I can relax."

"If you get too hot I've cooled off the hot tub," commented Frank. "Marie has been using it as a plunge pool in the summer."

I nodded appreciatively. "That was a good idea."

We chatted away for a while, discussing upcoming vacations, careers, our friends, just general conversation. Frank held up his bottle, which was now empty. "Another?" he queried.

"Yes, please" I deadpanned. Debra lifted her head off the lounger. "Hey, do you have anything a girl could drink? A cooler or something like that?"

"I've got some margarita mix. How about I mix you up one of those?" asked Frank. Debra pursed her lips a little and replied, "I guess. Sure. Just not too strong and lots of ice, please. And a glass of water too, please."

"Roger that," Frank exclaimed, jumping up off his lounger and heading into the house.

We lay in silence for several minutes, soaking up the sun and enjoying doing absolutely nothing. A though occurred to me. "You doing OK?" I asked. "I know you expected Marie to be with us out here."

"Yah, I'm fine," she answered. "That sun is getting a little warm, though. I might jump in the hot...er...cold tub to cool off in a bit. As soon as I have some water." As if on cue, Frank came back out through the door holding a small tray, upon which sat three glasses of ice water, two more beers, and a frosty mug full of lime-green liquid.

"Madam," Frank said theatrically as he passed a glass of water and the mug to Debra.

"That looks awesome. Thank you very much," said Debra as she sat up and reached out both hands. I saw Frank steal an appreciative glance at her breasts. As I've previously mentioned, Frank had made it known in his own inimitable fashion that he very much appreciated my wife's bosom while expressing regret that Marie wasn't similarly endowed. Debra either didn't notice or pretended not to. She sat back and took a long drink of water, downing about half the glass. She set the glass on the small table between our loungers, then picked up the margarita and had a sip.

"How is it?" asked Frank and I simultaneously. She just rolled her eyes and swallowed the mouthful of drink before answering. "Good. Maybe a touch strong, but still good." She had another sip, then sighed and put the glass down before lowering her head back against the lounger. More conversation ensued, mostly between Frank and I, discussing the local hockey team's playoff run the previous spring, some new music we had recently listened to, the ongoing Formula 1 season, just general guy stuff. Periodically Debra would reach out for the margarita, the level of which was now lower than the half-finished water, but otherwise she looked like a half-asleep lioness.

Suddenly she sat up. "That's it," she said. "I really need to cool off." She made a small show of adjusting her bathing suit, then stood, Frank once more eying Debra's assets as she wrapped her towel around her. She studiously continued to ignore him while she walked across the patio to the cooled-off tub, dropped her towel on the deck and slowly stepped in, keeping her back to us as she did so.

"Yikes, that's cold," she yelped, splashing a bit of water on her to acclimatize before turning and slowly sinking up to her neck, giving the two of us a brief glimpse of her rock-hard nipples under her bathing suit. "Mmmmm," she sighed again as she sat in one of the seats and laid her head back against the side.

After a brief soak she stood, then stepped up the couple of stairs out of the cooled hot tub, water streaming from her body and her clinging bathing suit. Debra wrapped the towel around her before turning around and walked down the steps to the patio and over to her lounge chair. She sat, keeping the towel wrapped around her. She picked up the glass of water and drained off the water melt, then traded that for the margarita. Frank continued to steal glances at her, anticipating what was going to come next. Debra thwarted him by turning her back to him before removing the towel and laying it on the lounge chair, then laying down on her stomach. She raised herself up to her elbows. "Can you please pass me my drink?"

I handed her the glass, which basically contained only ice melt at this point. She drank what little liquid was in the bottom of the glass and handed it back to me, then lay her head down on her hands. Frank continued to steal surreptitious looks at her derriere as we continued to attempt to solve the world's problems. In due course Frank held up his empty bottle and said, "Your turn for the refill run."

I nodded, and headed into the house for a couple more ice-cold beers. Upon returning, Debra lifted her head and asked, "Where's mine?"

"I'll get it!" said Frank, who slipped his fresh beer into the holder built in to the arm of the lounge chair and jumped to his feet. About five minute later he returned with a fresh margarita, this time with a wedge of lime perched on the rim.

"Voila," he said as he handed the glass to her, to which she responded with thanks as she reached out for it.

Frank and I continued chatting, enjoying the sunny warmth. A turn in the conversation to future travel plans piqued Debra's interest and she pushed herself up to a kneeling position on the lounger, raised the back, and turned over. "You two are planning on going to Costa Rica?" she queried Frank. The slight delay in his answer made me look at him. His mouth was slightly open as he stared back at Debra, and he seemed to be struggling to find something to say. When I glanced over to Debra the reason for Frank's distraction became obvious. The light breeze over her damp bathing suit had obviously caused the inevitable physiological response, capturing all of Frank's attention. I was a little surprised at that. I knew she must be aware her nipples were as erect as they had ever been under her suit. And it didn't seem to bother her that Frank was transfixed by them.

"Frank?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly. "Uh, yah. I mean, we've talked about it a little bit but...".

"But what?" she asked again.

He swallowed, took a sip of his beer and said, "Look, I'm sorry to stare. But I have to go on record as saying that you have absolutely wonderful breasts. There. I said it." He made no effort to conceal the rather generous bulge in the front of his suit. I was annoyed at that, but Debra uncharacteristically giggled and slightly squeezed her arms inward and gave a bit of a teasing shake as her bosom pushed out slightly. Frank looked like he was trying to swallow but couldn't. He finally took another swig of his beer and croaked, "man, the things I could do with those breasts." Debra just smiled and gave her chest another little enticing shake. I was somewhat surprised at her boldness but I knew she was a lightweight when it came to alcohol. She tended to loosen up after she'd had a couple of cocktails.

"So, about that Costa Rican trip?" I asked. Frank finally tore his eyes away from my wife's chest and looked over at me.

"OK, right," he mumbled, glancing again at Debra, then began describing how they had thought about flying into Liberia rather than San Jose and staying closer to the Pacific side, which re-established conversation even though I saw Frank blatantly looking at Debra's chest on a regular basis. The warmth of the sun had warmed her enough that her nipples were no longer the rock-hard nubs under her suit, but were still visible as little bumps under the fabric. I realized with surprise that when damp, her suit allowed a shadow of the aureole underneath. If you looked closely, that is. Which Frank was doing regularly. But she didn't seem to mind, and the fact that she kept her ankles together convinced me she was just being a bit of a tease. She obviously had a bit of a buzz going by this time -- hell, we all did - so I made a note to myself to head off any more offers of tequila.

The travel talk continued, with Debra and I describing our last visit to Barbados and our potential next destination of the Greek islands. After another twenty minutes or so of conversation Debra pushed herself up to a sitting position and said, "Well boys, I think I need to go find the little girls' room."

Before I could react in any way Frank jumped to his feet. "I'm heading in anyway. Let me show you where it is." He waved his once-more empty bottle in my direction. "Another?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good." I held up my half-empty bottle. "I'm still working on this one. And one of us has to be able to drive tonight."

"That's still hours away," quipped Frank.

"I know, but still. Maybe a couple of glasses of ice water would be good, though."

"10-4, buddy." He motioned towards the stairs. "After you, ma'am." Frank followed Debra up the stairs into the house, his eyes firmly fixed on her ass.

I leaned back in my lounger, took a long pull on my lukewarm beer, then gave my head a rueful shake. Of course, I was well-aware of Frank's attraction to Debra and watching him try and tamp that down was almost funny. I'd heard the stories circulating around our friend group that maybe Frank had been a "guest of honor", so to speak, with one or two of the couples before Marie entered the picture but didn't know how true they were. During the previous winter our buddy Mikey told me that Frank had told him over a couple of cocktails that he wanted to "take a run" at Debra. I snorted to myself. Hell, I'd bet that most of my friends wanted to "take a run" at Debra. Wasn't going to happen, though. Frank would have to be content with ogling her tits and trying for the occasional peek down her shirt. I went for another pull on my beer and discovered somewhat to my surprise that it also was now empty. I sat up. Maybe a fresh cold one wasn't a bad idea. Besides, Debra was taking a long time to return from her bathroom break.

I stood and walked up and into the back door of the house, the screen door closing with a hiss behind me. Debra immediately came around the corner out of the kitchen looking almost surprised to see me.

"Wow, you must really have had to go," I said.

"Yah," she said, a little breathlessly. "Two margaritas and a glass of water, right?"

I looked at her curiously. In addition to being slightly out of breath her face was a bit flushed and "the twins" had very obviously woken up. Just then Frank rounded the corner, holding a glass of water and a beer. He skidded to a stop, almost running in to Debra's back. He looked at me oddly, and handed me the water.

"Thanks," I said. Frank turned and walked back into the kitchen.

"Uh, what's going on?" I asked Debra in a lame voice.

"Well, you volunteered to drive tonight so when I finished in the bathroom, I asked Frank to make me another margarita. He was just finishing when you came in."

"Another one? Is that a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked brightly.

"Well, you know."

"Know what?"

"You know what. You know what you're like after you've had more than a couple of cocktails."

"Oh, really? And how do I "get"?"

I was saved by Frank coming back around the corner with his beer and another chilled glass with lime-green liquid. "Okay folks, let's head back out. Marie has a bit of a headache so she's going to lay down for an hour or so. I think she may have had one or two glasses too many of champagne." I turned, and the three of us walked back outside.

Reaching our loungers, Debra stuck a hand inside her beach bag and came out with sunscreen. She held it up to me and asked, "Can you put some of this on my back and shoulders?"

She scooted down to sit at the end of the lounger, making room for me to straddle it behind her. As I shook the container of sunscreen she surprised me by reaching both hands to her shoulders and lowering the two straps down the sides of her arms, the fabric now only held in place by her arms across her chest. As I rubbed the lotion into her back and shoulders I glanced over at Frank, who looked like he was looking slightly away from us, but his head never once moved and I was sure that he was staring at Debra from behind his sunglasses.

I finished rubbing in the lotion, wiping my hands on the beach towel. "There you go, babe."

"Thank you." She moved her hands back to the straps, but as she simultaneously pulled them up onto her shoulders one of them slipped out of her fingers and dropped down the side of her arm.

"Whoopsie," she squeaked. She reached down with her opposite hand to pull it up, but I was sure she had briefly exposed herself in the moment. One look at Frank convinced me I was right, and he'd gotten the glimpse he'd been waiting for. He closed his mouth and looked at me before taking a long pull on his beer, the bulge in his trunks clearly once-more obvious. I moved back to my lounger and Debra shuffled backward on hers so she could once more recline. She stretched one leg out and left the other on the ground beside the lounger, assuming a slightly less modest position than she originally had. It occurred to me that she was intentionally teasing Frank for her own amusement, and somewhat to my surprise the notion that Debra was unabashedly allowing him to admire her Lucky Charms stirred my own loins. I realized she was well on her way to inebriation, and suspected that her "weaker" margaritas were anything but.

"Can I try that?" I asked. She took a sip and handed the mug to me. Even the small sip I took confirmed my suspicions.

"Wow, that's stronger than I thought it would be," I commented, handing the glass back to her.

"Nah, it's fine," she replied, taking another sip before setting it back on the side table. "So where are you guys planning on going after Costa Rica?" she asked Frank. "Or is it too soon to make any plans like that?"

The moment had passed and once more the conversation began to flow again. As I took another pull on my beer I made a mental note to head off any more offers of tequila to Debra lest she start to get a bit messy. Correction: more messy. The midafternoon sun was warm. The conversation was all over the place, which was OK. We were all content just to be good friends chatting and relaxing, enjoying the all-too-short summer. I noticed that Debra had finished her margarita and was periodically draining off the ice melt. She hadn't asked for another yet, which I took to be a good sign.

After a bit Debra said, "It's been a while since we got here. "Are you sure Marie is OK? Is she going to join us at some point?"

"Yah, I should probably check in," said Frank. He set his beer in the holder in the arm of his lounge chair and swung a leg over the side and stood up.

"I think I'll take this opportunity to visit the powder room again," said Debra, sitting up on her lounger.

I stood up as well. "I'll come in and make up a couple of glasses of ice water."

Maybe it was my imagination but I thought Frank looked quite disappointed at that.

Frank went in first this time, followed by Debra, with me bringing up the rear. I had our empty water glasses in my hands and went straight to the kitchen while Debra went towards the washroom and Frank headed upstairs. I rinsed out the glasses and went into the freezer compartment of the fridge for the ice cubes, filling both glasses completely with ice before running cold water into both. I heard the toilet flush and the water run, then a few seconds later Debra came around the corner. As she reached out for one of the glasses of water I noticed that she still looked a bit flushed, and her nipples once more featured prominently under her swimsuit. She looked damn sexy and a sudden wave of desire swept over me. Frank was right. She really did have spectacular tits. I reached out and pulled her to me. She gave a little squeal of delight. At least, I thought it was delight.