Key Lime Pie 1

It was late on a warm, sultry Friday afternoon as I drove home from O'Hare airport after a five-day road trip. I had spent most of the day just sitting on my butt in airports and airplanes trying to get home and putting up with the interminable boredom that is called air travel. For some reason I have never been one of those business travelers who can sit in an airport and get a lot of work done. There are too many distractions, especially in the summertime when the girls wear much less clothes than they do in the winter. The result was that by the time I turned onto our street, I was hot, bored, and tired, but especially I was horny. After no sex for almost a week I was really hoping that Trish would be in the mood tonight, because I wanted—no, I needed—to get laid.

Now, that is usually not a problem with my wife. Trish is a cute little pixy-like redhead with short hair, sparkling green eyes, and a curvaceous little body, and she is almost always horny, especially when I have been away for a few days. I was really looking forward to getting home. I had spent much of the last leg of the trip fantasizing about the really nasty sex we were going to have this evening.

As I rounded the curve in the street just before our home, my hopes and fantasies were dashed. There was a car parked in front of our house that wasn't ours, an older Lexus with California plates. This wasn't the classic problem of coming home from a business trip and finding a strange car parked in front of your house and then discovering it belongs to some guy who has been spending the afternoon screwing your wife. No, I knew this car. It belonged to Trish's aunt and uncle from California, who were, in my view, two of the dullest people imaginable. I slowed as I recognized the Lexus, my fantasies of spending the late afternoon and evening fucking my curvy little wife in every room in our house going up in smoke that dissipated into the steamy Chicago suburban atmosphere. "Fuck!" I said to no one in particular. "Now I'm going to spend the evening playing nice with Trish's Uncle Phil and his stuffy wife, Betty." Maybe I would spend some time in the office this weekend after all.

I turned into the driveway, hit the button on the garage door opener, and pulled into my bay of our three-car garage. Trish's car wasn't there. Odd I thought. We have company, and she's not here? Maybe she took them shopping? Not likely with that stuffy old pair.

I retrieved my carry-on bag and my briefcase from the back seat of my BMW and stepped through the door into our kitchen. That's when my day began to pick up. Seated along side the kitchen table was a tall, leggy blonde I hadn't met before.

She looked up and smiled a thousand-watt smile that lit up the room. "Hi! You probably don't remember me, but I am your wife's cousin Kelly. From California. My parents are Trish's aunt and uncle. I know you've met them, but I don't think we've ever met."

As she stood and walked toward me with her hand extended, I said, "I'm Chris." I couldn't get much more out as I looked at her. She really was stunning—about 5'10" or so, with those tan California legs that just seemed to go on forever, but actually stopped at a pair of very short, very tight white shorts. Her scooped neck t-shirt showed off a pair of very firm medium-size breasts, and her thick, long blonde hair framed a face of an angel. One look at her and you knew immediately what the Beach Boys were thinking about when they came up with

California Girls

.

I managed to gain enough composure to drop my bags and stick my hand out to meet hers for a handshake and was pleasantly surprised when she used the handshake to pull me forward into a hug and a peck on the cheek. She smelled just delicious, and the hug was close enough that I could feel her tits pushing into my chest. Yes, my day was suddenly looking up—but where was Trish?

"Hi, I'm Chris. Nice to meet you," I said as the hug unwound. Saying hello and introducing myself seemed a bit of an afterthought following the hug, but my mother always raised me to be polite.

"I know," she laughed. "You already said that."

Oops! Well, this girl was seriously distracting. Changing the subject, I said, "Uhhh . . . do you happen to know where my wife is? I noticed her car isn't here."

"Oh, she went out to get some pizza for dinner. She should be back in a few minutes. She told me to fix you a drink if you got home before she did."

"That's the best idea I've heard all day. If you'll make me a gin and tonic, I'll take my things upstairs and get into something more comfortable than these business clothes. The booze is in the cabinet over the fridge, tonic's in the fridge, and there are usually some limes in there, too. If you don't mind, I'll take time to grab a quick shower. I always feel really grungy after a day in the 'Friendly Skies'."

"Okay, I'll get to work. I used to be a bartender, so a G&T is a piece of cake."

I stopped before I left the room and turned back towards Kelly. "That's your parent's car out front isn't it? Are they here with you?" (Please God, let the answer be no).

"Oh no. They sold me the car when they bought a new one. Gave me a good deal on it when I told them I wanted it so I could drive to Vermont to go back to college."

"So you're on your way to Vermont?"

"Yes. I have to be there early next week. Trish told me I could stay here for a night to break up the driving. I hope that's okay?"

"Oh, for sure," I said. (Yes there is a god. A night with Trish and her gorgeous cousin!) Looks like I won't be going to the office this weekend after all, I thought.

I bounded up the stairs two at a time, dumped my gear in the corner of our bedroom and peeled off my clothes before stepping naked into a luke-warm shower—just the thing after a hot, sticky day like we had today.

While I stood in the shower washing off the day's grunge, I tried to remember what I knew about Kelly. Now that my mind was no longer being reduced to mush by her short shorts and her long legs, I remembered Trish telling me something in the past about her. As best I could recall, she was about the same age as Trish (early 30's) and had been a pretty close friend of Trish's at one time, but when college time came, they went their separate ways and really hadn't been in touch since. Then a little light bulb went on, and I remembered. Kelly was more or less the black sheep of the family. She had finished college (USC, as I recalled) and then veered off the family-approved life course by becoming a dancer—well more precisely, a stripper. Her parents had pretty much disowned her. Seems kind of harsh I thought. I had watched a lot of strippers in my time, and it looked to me like they were working hard for their money.

As I showered I let my mind linger on Kelly and her long tan legs. My badly neglected prick began to respond to my thoughts about Kelly and her legs and that nice round ass above them, and before I knew it I was halfway to an erection. Still thinking about Kelly, I absent-mindedly used my soapy hand to pull on my prick. Now I really had a full-blown erection and my stroking felt so good. No, no, I thought. Don't let yourself cum now. You've been saving this for days for Trish. I stopped stroking myself, but now my undisciplined mind was revisiting the fantasy I was having on the plane from Seattle to Chicago about squirting several days of accumulated cum all over Trish's nice big round boobs and then eating her to a screaming climax while she rubbed my cum into her tits. I didn't get any closer to climaxing, but it wasn't helping my erection subside either.

I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, doing my best to think about something, anything, other than sex, and by the time I stepped back into the bedroom to dress I had managed to relax a bit. My prick, while still enlarged, was at least hanging down between my legs instead of standing straight out, as it had been before. I stepped into our walk-in closet, pulled an old college T-shirt over my head and a pair of cutoff sweats over my hips, and then shuffled my feet into a pair of flip flops—my standard summertime weekend garb. As I stood before a full-length mirror combing my hair, I noticed that my still partially engorged cock was causing a bit of a bulge under the soft fabric of my shorts. What the hell. I knew Trish wouldn't be offended, and while I didn't know Kelly, if she had been a stripper, how could she possibly be offended by a man with a bulging package? "Not a problem," I confidently told myself as I trotted down the stairs. Besides, as horny as I was, there wasn't a hell of a lot I could do about it, short of getting myself off.

As I walked into the kitchen, Kelly was standing at the counter with her back to me finishing up the drinks. God, she had a cute round butt. I could see her ass cheeks peaking from beneath her tight shorts. "Down boy," I told myself silently as I felt my cock beginning to stir again.

"Got that drink ready, beautiful?" I asked. As soon as I said it, I wondered if calling her beautiful when I had barely met her was going too far.

"Absolutely," she said as she turned toward me, holding out my drink and lighting up the room with another of her thousand-watt smiles. "Oh my," she said as she looked me over. "You look a lot more comfortable than you did when you came in." I apparently hadn't gone too far.

"There are work clothes, and there are weekend clothes, and it's definitely time for weekend clothes," I said. As I spoke, I did a little pirouette for her.

"Very nice. Cousin Trish always did have good taste." She pulled a bar stool out from an overhanging kitchen counter and perched on it, hooking her high heels on the lowest rung and leaning back against the counter with her legs splayed apart and her breasts protruding. Of course she was still fully clothed, but still . . . oh yes, she was sex personified. She continued to look at me in silence, with a pair of gray Lauren Bacall eyes staring at me over the top of the gin and tonic she was sipping. Of course, I could hardly be offended as I was doing pretty much the same thing as I sipped my drink. We were both quiet as we sipped our drinks and looked at each other. I wasn't quite sure where this was going, but so far the ride was great.

Just then the door from the garage swung open banging against the wall. Trish charged in juggling a pizza and half a case of beer. "Chris, you're home!" she yelled. She ran towards me, somehow managing to set the beer and pizza down on the counter without breaking her stride or any of the beer bottles, launched herself into my lap with both arms around my neck, and then planted her lips on mine for a long, sloppy wet kiss. As she finally pulled away she said loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, "You've been gone so long. We are going to have great fucking sex tonight. I'm going to suck your . . . "

"Trish," I interrupted. "We have company."

She giggled. "Well, it's just Kelly. She knows I have sex. When we were growing up together we always told each other everything about the guys we were screwing. Maybe she can help us tonight."

My dick lurched at that thought. I'm sure Trish could feel it pressing against her cute little round ass that was planted so sweetly in my lap.

"And the girls," Kelly added.

Trish laughed. "Yes, we told each other about the girls, too."

"Kelly, do you remember the ranking system we used to have for guys?"

Now Kelly laughed. "Oh that's right. We did, didn't we."

"What?" I asked. "You mean you ranked your dates on a scale, like guys rank girls they see walking by on a scale of one to ten?"

Yes, but it was much more sophisticated than that," Kelly said.

"Right, right!" Trish said with excitement. We ranked them on a bunch of different factors and then averaged the rankings for an overall rating."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Hmm." Kelly said. "Can you remember them all Trish?"

"Well, there was the overall hotness rating. Just how good did the guy look?"

"Right," Kelly agreed.

"Was this with or without clothes?" I asked.

Both girls laughed. Trish said, "Actually both. Some guys looked great with their clothes on and then were a big disappointment once they undressed. A good suit can hide a lot of flab. Then there were others that were just the reverse."

"How'd that work?" I asked.

"Well," Kelly said. "You might have a guy who showed up in grubby looking sweats and then turned out to have a really ripped body underneath the sweats."

"You mean like me?" I said as I gestured at my tired cut-off sweat pants and my faded Cal t-shirt.

"Not necessarily," Kelly responded. "I don't know what you look like under the sweats, so I can't rate you. Trish, is he ripped under those baggy sweats?"

"Oh, most definitely," Trish responded.

"Hmmm," Kelly said as she seductively put a fingertip in her mouth. "He looked really good in that suit he was wearing when he came in, so if you tell me that he is ripped beneath those baggy clothes he's wearing now, he must be a ten!"

"Most definitely!" Trish agreed.

"Whew, I passed the first test on your ratings system. I'm almost afraid to ask about the others."

Kelly leaned even farther back against the counter, pushing her breasts out even farther. "I suspect that you would do just fine, Chris, but only Trish can say since I've never fucked you."

"So what were the categories," I asked.

Kelly, leaned forward holding a wide spread hand before her. "Let's see. I think there were five. Isn't that right Trish?"

Trish was occasionally squirming just a bit in my lap so that my erection was now full blown. "Yes that's right—five." With that the girls began to count them down.

"First there was the overall hotness rating we just described," Kelly said.

"Right," Trish agreed, "And then there was a ranking for the guy's dick."

"Size?" I asked.

"Partly," Kelly said. "But it wasn't just size, like some guys rank boobs."

"Right," Trish said. "In fact a guy could lose points for being too big. We thought optimal size was about 8 or 8-½ inches. Baseball bats are out. They hurt."

"And it can't be too big around. No beer cans," Kelly said.

"Ugh, no!" agreed Trish.

"And they should be circumcised," Kelly said.

"Actually Kelly, we never really agreed on that point," Trish pointed out.

"Why did it matter?" I asked.

"Don't know," Kelly responded. "I just liked circumcised better then. Not sure I care anymore."

"And I thought it didn't matter even then," Trish responded. "I was always more mature in my tastes than Kelly."

Kelly responded with a nasty look that made Trish giggle.

"And then there was just an overall appearance criteria," Kelly said.

"It was very subjective," Trish added. "Some dicks are hot and some aren't. It's just the way we saw it."

"Right," agreed Kelly.

"Wow, I'm afraid to ask how I would rate. It sounds intimidating."

Trish again squirmed her ass on my now rigid dick. "Not to worry lover. You would do just fine. You don't think I would marry a guy with a low-rated dick do you?"

"She's not bullshitting you," Kelly said. "She always had very high standards on the dick criteria." She paused for a moment looking at me with a critical eye. "So Trish, how does Chris here rate on the dick criteria?"

Trish squirmed her ass around on my now rock hard dick again. "Oh, he's most definitely a ten."

"A ten? You never rated any guy a ten on the dick criteria the whole time we were growing up."

'Trust me. He's a ten, especially when he is as hard as he is now."

"Can I see it? Really. I want to see this Adonis of cocks. I've never seen a ten before."

Trish continued to squirm in my lap as she stalled a bit. She bit her lip in a mock pout and finally said. "All right. You can see it. But then we have to eat this pizza before it gets cold."

Trish hopped down off my lap and pulled me to my feet, dragging me to the center of the room. My dick was making a huge tent in my sweat pants, and there was a small spot where pre-cum had soaked through the material. She grabbed the waistband on both sides and yanked the pants down to my ankles as she stood aside to give Kelly a clear view. I felt like a bull about to be offered at auction.

Kelly's eyes widened as she studied my cock. It twitched involuntarily.

"Oh my," she said. "That is a really fine cock." She continued to study it in silence as Trish stroked it from below and held it to the side for Kelly's inspection. Finally Kelly said, "Yes, I can see how you get there. That cock is definitely a ten. My, my. You don't see many of those. Can I suck it?" My dick twitched again as she said that.

"Not now," Trish answered. "Maybe we can all eat each other later if you behave, but now it's time for pizza." My dick twitched again at thought of the three of us engaging in a round robin of oral sex.

"And," Trish continued, "Since Chris is already naked I think we should get naked too, rather than asking him to put those baggy old shorts on again. Chris, take your T-shirt off and slice up the pizza while we take our clothes off."

I know when to obey my wife, and this was clearly such a moment. My T-shirt was off and sailing across the room in the blink of an eye. As I walked to the drawer where the pizza-slicing wheel was stored, my dick bobbed happily. Both girls seemed more focused on it than on their assigned task of stripping down.

I opened a beer for myself and was about to begin slicing the pizza when Trish spoke up. "Kelly, since you're a stripper, you should go first, and then I can do it. Maybe I can learn something from watching you."

"Ex-stripper!" Kelly said firmly. "I told you I'm on my way to Vermont to go to law school."

I couldn't constrain myself. "Law school!" I exclaimed. "This country has way too many lawyers already. Look at the mess they're making in Washington, D.C. What we need is more strippers and less lawyers. I can tell from looking at you that you are a great stripper. What a waste!"

Kelly gave me an acid look that began to wilt my dick. "Was a great stripper. Not any more."

"Okay," I sighed.

Trish was cracking up in the corner. "Kelly, you're going to make a great lawyer. With just one look, you wilted his dick. He's sorry. It's just that he's a great fan of strippers and has had some really bad experiences with lawyers."

Now both girls were laughing and my dick continued to wilt. Kelly walked around the counter until she was standing in front of me. She reached down and gently picked up my now half-deflated prick. As she stroked it, it began to recover and then she looked over at Trish with a "mother-may-I" look.

"Only 'till it's hard again. I don't want him cumming yet."

"Kelly's smile lit up, and she sank to her knees and slurped my cock into her mouth and began to massage it with her tongue. As it recovered she began to suck on it with long, slow strokes. Once it was hard to her satisfaction, she rubbed the head across each of her still-clothed breasts and popped back to her feet, giving it one last stroke with her hand. "There, all better now." she said. It definitely was.

Trish was beside herself with laughter.

"May I cut the pizza?" I asked. Trish had obviously given up on the "strippers' first" idea and was pulling her T-shirt over her head. Just as quickly she reached around behind her back and released her bra, letting it fall to her feet and kicking it across the room to where her T-shirt had landed. God, she has beautiful tits, I was thinking.

"God, you have beautiful tits," Kelly said as she stared at my half-naked wife.

Trish just smiled that kind of nasty smile she uses when she knows she is driving me wild, but this time the smile was aimed at Kelly rather than me. Hmmm. There was more history between these two than I had been told about, I thought. I wasn't jealous, but very curious.