This is my 2016 Valentine contest submission. All characters are over 18 years of age. Thanks to H.S. for the great editing.
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January 1, 2000:
Frank picked up the ringing phone and heard, "Hey, Dad. It's Charlotte. I've got a favor to ask."
"Okay, Hon. Shoot." Frank responded to his 28 year-old daughter.
"Last summer you did a nude sculpture of Connie. Valentine's Day is coming up. I'd like you to do a sculpture of me. Something fun and risque that I can give to Cody."
"Your husband has the real you. Why would he want a pale imitation? Besides, I'm really not that good," Frank responded trying to beg off.
"Please!!! Your pieces are great."
"Thanks for your vote of confidence, sweetie. Ah . . . How risque are you thinking?"
"I want a nude statue."
Sensing he had reservations, she added, "You did one for Connie."
"Well, Connie is not my daughter."
"Dad, I know it might be a little awkward, but it's not like we haven't seen each other naked. The family goes skinny dipping at the lake. It would mean a lot to me. It would be a great Valentine's present. I feel I need to do it now. I'm twenty-eight and I have two kids. If I breast-feed one more baby, I'm worried that my boobs will end up hanging down around my knees."
She laughed at her joke.
"I guess we could give it a try. We'd have to get started soon if you expect a bronze statue in six weeks."
"Thanks, Dad. You're the best. I can be in your studio tomorrow around 10."
"Okay, honey. See you in the morning."
December 29, 1999:
"Hello?" Charlotte said, picking up the phone.
"Hey, Sis. If you and Cody have plans for New Year's Eve cancel them. You're going out with us."
"What are you talking about?"
"A friend of Alan's invited us to join them on a special New Year's Eve river cruise on a boat called the Saturnalia. Now they can't go. They've given us their tickets. You have to come with us. It'll be the party to end all parties."
"Abby, this is kind of late notice. We've already accepted our neighbor's invitation."
"I'm not talking funny hats and silly noise-makers. This is a swinging cruise."
"What? Wait. Are you saying . . .?"
"Yes, little sister. I am. This is a cruise for swingers."
Charlotte was momentarily stunned. Then she said, "Ah . . . What makes you think that Cody and I want to go to some wife swapping party?"
"Because you told me so! Remember our Hedonism vacation in Jamaica? On the first day we were shocked to see nude people on the beach, and by the end of our vacation, we were naked in the hot tub sucking off our husbands to the cheers of strangers."
"I was really drunk."
"We all were drunk, but also hot and horny and having a great time. We all said it was a shame we were leaving the next day, and if we ever got the opportunity again, we'd take advantage of it. Charlotte, this is that chance. No one will know us. The wife of Alan's friend has been on three of these cruises. She told me it's a blast. The guys are hot and the orgasms are to die for."
Charlotte ruminated out loud, "Jamaica was fun. Cody has been begging to go back. He says it's not just so he can have sex with some big-chested blonde. He says he'd really be turned on seeing me have sex with another guy. I can't wrap my mind around that, and that's why we've never gone back."
Abby nodded and said, "I think it's a guy thing. Alan has told me the same thing. He says it works for him on a number of levels. One, it confirms his choice, that he has a women other men find attractive. He and I like watching porn. He tells me if we enjoy videos, it would have to be ten times hotter seeing real people having real sex, up close with all the sights, smells and sounds. I think he's right.
"Lastly, he says the main turn-on would be seeing me shed all inhibitions and control and give myself over to pleasure. He'd love to see me panting, sweating, and orgasming over and over as some guy fills my pussy with his spunk."
Abby paused, and she visualized the hot sex scene she just described. Her sister, too, was picturing the illicit image in her mind's eye. Abby let out a throaty groan as two fingers slipped past her underwear and found their way to her warm tunnel, which was dripping wet.
"Are you masturbating?" Charlotte asked incredulously.
Breathlessly, her sister said, "Emmm, Yes. Don't pretend you aren't imagining being with another man. A man with a fat, hard cock. Can't you feel the bulbous head plowing through your tender folds, spreading your vagina wide . . ."
"Alright, Enough. Stop it before I get so wet I have to go change my panties. So this party, is it a full-out orgy or . . ."
Abby smiled. She knew her sister was now seriously considering going. She did a soft sell.
"Oh, no. You don't have to do anything you don't want. In fact, you don't have to do anything at all. You and Cody could just watch. Some couples will have sex with other partners while others do what is called a "soft swap". This could be sex with Cody where others can see you or a wide range of activities that fall short of penetration. You could limit yourselves to kissing, fondling or having oral sex with other people. You're totally in control of how far things go."
"That's reassuring."
"So, you'll go?"
"Only if I can talk Cody into it."
Both women laughed. That was such a ridiculous statement. What husband would ever say no if his wife asked him to attend an orgy?
December 31, 1999:
On New Years Eve, Cody and Alan had on their best suits, and their brunette wives were dressed to the nines in short black dresses with plunging necklines. They had on their highest high heels. As they walked to the boat, Charlotte clung tightly to her husband. It wasn't just because of the cold weather. She said what they all were feeling, "I'm nervous."
"Me, too. But also a little excited, right?" Cody asked.
She nodded. Abby spoke. "We'll see how it goes. We don't have to stay."
A uniformed steward met them at the gangplank and checked their tickets. Satisfied that everything was in order, he said, "Welcome. The other eight couples are here. I need to stamp the back of everyone's hand. Don't worry. It isn't permanent ink."
In a courteous manner, he applied a different number to each person's hand and then said, "The reason for the numbers will become evident as the evening progresses. Cocktails are being served now. Find the member of the opposite sex who has your same number, and the two of you can have a drink and conversation at the bar."
"Oh. I see. It's a way of getting everyone to talk to each other," Charlotte said. "Clever."
The steward smiled and escorted them onto the boat. Abby eyed his cute bottom and whispered to her sister, "I wonder if he's on the menu tonight."
"Oh, you're terrible!" Charlotte gently chastised.
As they entered the cabin, the guests with their matching numbers came up to greet them. "Thank goodness you've arrived. I'm as dry as the Sahara desert," an elegant man in a fine suit said. He waved his hand about, showing the same number Abby sported. The others swiftly found their drinking partners. Introductions were made. Everyone got a drink. The simple ice-breaker had served its purpose.
The newcomers moved about and made small talk with the other couples. Some of the other guests were very attractive, some exceptionally witty. A few were expensively dressed. Most were couples like them -- people twenty to fifty years old, reasonably fit and attractive.
One couple stood out looking particularly out of place. The man was definitely not good-looking. He was bald and chubby, bordering on being fat. His bottle-blonde wife was loud. Her vocabulary and grammar showed she was under-educated. However, the men seem to enjoy her company. Perhaps it was because she had massive ta-tas that she didn't mind putting on display.