On the third Sunday in September, outside Los Angeles in the hills of Sherman Oaks, two beautiful wives in their late twenties lounged by an Olympic-sized swimming pool. They were at Jan Marshall's home and Sandy Carter lived next door.

"It's as hot as a day in July," said Jan, who swept locks of her luxurious auburn hair from her face and tucked them behind her right ear. "Hand me the sun block. I need more protection."

"Here you go," said Sandy, who, if her legs weren't the best feature of her body, her hair was. Both of her parents and grandparents were blond; the combination of genes and exposure to the strong sun had kissed Sandy's hair to almost whiteness. Her blue eyes, white hair and bronze tan twisted heads. "What should we fix the guys for dinner?"

" After the game's over, let's get them to toss some steaks on the grill, We'll whip up a salad, and I have plenty of fresh asparagus. I'll do Hollandaise sauce."

"No you won't. I've tried to teach you, but it must be continually stirred. You foul it up every time, I'll do it, and I have some fresh corn. What time is it?"

"Getting hungry? The game won't be over for a half-hour or so. I agree your Hollandaise is better than mine, but my spaghetti sauce beats yours by ten miles."

"Maybe two miles. No, one mile at the most. How come you haven't shared your recipe?" asked Sandy, as she reached behind her for the sunblock.

When Sandy turned her head and looked away, Jan stuck out her tongue at Sandy and, with her thumbs in her ears wiggled her fingers. Sweetly, she said, "As for the recipe, we need some mystery in our mundane lives. I'm a little hungry too, but those guys would rather watch football than eat. This sun is so delicious. I'll feast on it."

"We're two lucky women. We have it made."

"Yeah, but our lives are about as exciting as folding laundry. We shouldn't complain though. Think how many women have to work to keep the bills paid."

"That's why we married rich, handsome husbands. But you're right. Our only responsibility is to keep ourselves pampered and trim so we can make a good impression socially."

"Rodeo Drive would go broke without us. We're stimulating the economy."

"A lot of the new fall line is so risqué. You have to be daring to wear some of those outfits."

"They're for show-offs. Prim and proper suits us fine."

"Right, I bought some things that I thought were okay, but they aren't. Should have returned them, but I never got around to it."

"Hand me the sun screen. I'm going to undo my straps. We have to keep our skin evenly tanned."

"What shall we do tomorrow?"

"Same ol', same ol', I guess. Hit the shops and maybe have lunch at the club."

Inside, Stan Marshall and Bob Carter sat watching the Dolphins play the Forty-Niners.

"Touchdown! San Fran's the greatest."

"They're good, but not the greatest. The Dolphins will ice it. Trust me."

"Sure, sure. And Mickey Mouse will be our next president."

"He can't run for a third term."

After the extra point, the commercials blared forth, and Stan (the 49'ers backer) glanced out the sliding glass door that separated the ****** room from the pool deck. "Take a peek at our wives, Bob, they're two foxy gals. Jesus, they've both undone the straps of their suit tops and a lot of their boobs are showing. It's too bad they won't wear bikinis or at least two-piece suit."

Bob took another swig of Heineken and twisted his head around to see the two wives propped up on deck lounges just beyond the glass doors. "Holy shit. You're right. It's lucky Sandy has full breasts and great nipples or her top would be in her lap."

"Great nipples you say. Well, they wouldn't be nicer than Jan's. Hers stick out like railroad spikes when she's turned on."

"Sure, Jan has a dynamite body, but Sandy has her beat in the legs department."

"Maybe a bit but Jan's ass is cuter and I'll bet her boobs are nicer than Sandy's. Jan's breasts are as firm and silky as any Playboy's centerfold. "

"So are Sandy's but you should see her pussy. Little blonde curls to match her gorgeous hair."

"So, big deal. Jan's a true redhead. Everywhere. Overall, my Jan has the best body by far."

"You wish."

Stan squirmed in his chair and said, "This kind of talk is making me horny. I'm going to grab another beer before the kickoff. Want one?"

"Yeah," said Bob, before he drained his Heineken, "and you say Jan's pussy is really red?"

"More auburn actually. Prettiest thing you ever saw."

"Yeah, but I still bet Sandy's the greatest, all things considered. Her eyes are a darker blue. Her lips are fuller, softer and more sensuous than Jan's. They suck a cock like you wouldn't believe."

"She sucks your cock? I figured she'd be too prudish for that. But wait a minute, how can you compare, since you haven't really kissed Jan? Or are you trying to tell me something?"

"Hell no. I've never hit on Jan. Especially since Sandy's so gorgeous. But I'll confess to having a few evil little thoughts about Jan."

"You asshole," said Stan, as he handed Bob a fresh beer, "but it does prove Jan's the most desirable."

"So, you've never letched about Sandy?"

Stan grinned and said, "Of course not. Hey look at the kickoff. It's high and short. This ploy could be big trouble. Why would San Fran do that?"

A Dolphin up front handled the reception with ease and returned it to the 42-yard line.

A few plays later Stan said, "Yeah, I'll confess."

"Confess what?"

"I've fantasized a couple of times about Sandy. I can see she has a great bod and I have compared it with Jan's."

"Look, we've been buddies a long time. I wouldn't be upset if you had a peek at Sandy nude. It's the only way to settle this. Let you eat your heart out. Would you be upset if I spied Jan?"

"Hell no. You'll be the one drooling over my Jan."

"This is exciting. I'm half-hard just thinking about it. We've both been married almost eight years and it's time we did something fun and basically innocent."

"I buy it, but I don't think the girls will go along. Sandy and Jan are both pretty straight-laced. At least Jan is."

" Sandy would cut me off for a month, if I even hinted about her stripping down in front of you."

"Jan would be pissed too, but hey, we're both successful guys. Solutions to problems are our forte."

"We haven't been watching the game. The Dolphins are in field goal range."

"Fuck the game. Let's think of a plan."

"If I think much more about it, my half-hard will grow up and rip a hole in my jeans."

"Cool it and think dispassionately. Hard-ons can come later."

"Maybe if we got them both ***** and dared them."

"No, not good enough. But you're on the right track. How about booze and pot."

"We gave that up after college and Sandy would be mighty suspicious about me suggesting it."

"Can you cook?"

"Cook what?"

"Cookies."

"I get your drift and it can't be that tough. They even come in refrigerated rolls at the supermarket, and you just heat them up. But where do we get the pot?"

Stan grinned. "I still have a stash. It may have passed its expiration date, but it was panty-dropping stuff a few years ago. I've kept it sealed in one of those zip-up plastic bags. It's worth a try."

"Great, but if they get stoned then what. Strip poker?"

"Maybe, if we play it right. Both girls are pretty competitive. If we both brag about how great each of our wives bodies are, they might get into the spirit of competing by comparing."

"It's possible, but we need to buy the cookies. Let's slip out to the store. This is exciting!"

They both checked to see the wives had turned on their tummies and lowered their tops even farther, showing a slight bulge of breasts beneath their folded arms.

They sneaked out the front door, hopped in Stan's Mercedes convertible and zoomed down to the super market. They returned in less than 15 minutes with a cold tube of chocolate chip cookies. Like two school kids preparing for their first dates, they meticulously sprinkled pot on most of the small round cookies. They left a few "undoctored" to put on the bottom of the plate where they could sneak them out and not get high themselves. An argument arose as whether to zap the cookies in the microwave or use the oven. The oven won when Bob pointed out the leaves of pot would brown and blend in better if baked. After setting the heat to 350 degrees, they grinned like little imps and returned to the TV.

They plopped down in the two grey Lazy-Boys and noted the two-minute warning had begun. The score was tied at 24 each but the Forty-Niners were now in field goal range. Stan gloated. Bob scowled.

With twenty seconds left San Fran kicked the winning three points. As if on cue, the two young wives pushed open the sliding glass door and walked into the air-conditioned ****** room. The girls had covered up with two sheer beach robes and both guys stared through the flimsy material to see bumps of nipples aroused by the coolness of the room. Both men swallowed hard.

"How did the game turn out?" asked Sandy.

Stan clenched his fist and punched the air. "My boys stuck it to 'em."

"Stuck it to whom?" asked Jan.

"That's my little football fan. She didn't even know who was playing."

Jan stuck out her tongue at Stan, and said, "What's that I smell?"

Bob said, "Just a little treat for you beautiful women."

They grinned and Sandy said, "How sweet. Miracles do happen. C'mon Jan let's go grab a shower."

After they left, Stan said, "We need to fix some dynamite drinks. Something potent but sneaky."

"Yeah, vodka and grapefruit plus some cranberry juice will mask the booze. Do you have any grape juice?"

"I think there's some in the pantry. Isn't that the concoction we used to call Purple Passion?"

"You got it! They taste sorta like grape Popsicles. Let's mix 'em right now and add the ice later so they won't know how potent they are."

"How are the cookies coming?"

Stan cracked the oven door. "Almost done."

Sandy and Jan came back in wearing baggy Bermuda shorts and loose fitting blouses buttoned high at the neck.

Bob quickly dropped ice cubes into the girls' drinks, while Stan used a mitten to haul out the pan of cookies. He snuggled the virgin cookies to the bottom of a plate and piled the high-test cookies on top. "Come and get 'em ladies."

"Great. Swimming makes me hungry," said Jan.

"Me too," chimed in Sandy, "It's hot out there."

The girls ate cookies and chugged most of their drinks.

The guys sipped their mild drinks and nibbled along on plain cookies. "You gals ears should have been burning," started Stan.

"Yeah," Bob continued, "even during the football game we discussed how lucky we were to have such beautiful wives."

The girls looked at each other, lifted their chins a trifle and struck a little pose, as if to say "of course."

Bob took Sandy's almost empty glass and, as he walked over to the wet bar, he said, "However, both of you could enhance your looks if you weren't so uptight."

"First a compliment and then a put down," giggled Sandy.

"Well," said Bob, "I told Stan that you two could be drop dead gorgeous if you'd exhibit your assets more. Show a little more skin."

"You mean low cut I'll bet," said Sandy, "I know you're a tit man."

Bob grinned. He knew the drinks and pot were getting to Sandy for her to say 'tit'.

Jan's speech slurred slightly as she said, "So you guys want us to be little sluts?"

"Have another cookie," said Stan.

"Okay, I seem to have the munchies."

"Me too," said Sandy.

"Not really slutty," said Bob, "you both have great figures even though I think Sandy's is better."

"You're crazy," said Stan. "Sure, Sandy's is fantastic, but my Jan would win the blue ribbon in a contest."

"If there were a contest, I'd say Jan's the cutest," mumbled Sandy.

"That's sweet, darlin'," said Jan, "but I'd vote a tie."

"Listen to this, Bob," said Stan, "Jan bought a couple of subtly sexy cocktail dresses and she won't even wear them."

"They didn't seem so dar-r-ing at the store," said Jan with a bit more slur to her voice.

"Try one on and let us judge," said Bob.

Sandy looked at her husband and widened her eyes. "So you want to see Jan in somethin' sexy. Is that it?"

Jan said, "He's a letch, just like Stan," and she began to giggle.

"I've got it," said Stan. "Jan models one dress and Sandy the other."

"Why not," said Jan. "We're the same size. Let's model for these perverts."

"Right on," said Sandy, "and they can vote on who's the sexiest."

"What's the prize?"

"We'll think of something."

When they stood up, both girls weaved a bit. "Wow, those drinks hit home.

Empty stomach I guess. Grab some more cookies, Sandy."

When the ladies left, both guys gave high fives, and Bob said, "They're hooked. They'll both be vying to win."

In the bedroom Jan said, "God, I hope I can find those dresses. I'm feeling woozy."

Sandy had trouble unbuttoning her blouse, but finally struggled it off and had to sit down a moment before removing her Bermudas.

Jan held up two dresses and said, "Take your pick."

"You decide."

"Okay, here's the dark blue one. It'll match your eyes better."

Sandy stepped into the dress, pulled it up and turned to look in the mirror. "Shit! Oops, pardon the language, but my bra shows up over the bodice. Have a half-bra?"

"Yep, it's a 36 C. That's your size isn't it? But I only have one and seldom wear it. I guess now's the time. Try taking your bra off and see how the dress looks."

Sandy lowered the dress and unhooked her bra. When it fell Jan puckered and tried to whistle, but couldn't manage one. So she said, "Great tits. Your nipples point out like they're asking to be kissed. God, err, that didn't come out right. Sorry."

"No sweat. I'm flattered. But I don't ever go braless."

With the dress zipped, Sandy surveyed herself in the mirror. The vee shaped neckline showed a great deal of cleavage and the two front panels weren't joined together so that if she bent over slightly one breast showed all the way to her nipple. It also gapped open if she turned to either side very quickly. "I don't think I should wear this without a bra. Look what happens."

"Don't bend over and it'll be all right. The hem's a bit low to show off those neat legs of yours. I'd pin it up if we had the time."

Jan's white dress came to her neck in front but was cut out on the sides beneath her arms to show the naked sides of her breasts and the satiny material was thin enough that her nipples were clearly outlined. She dropped the top and put on her half-bra. It looked strange from the rear since the back of the dress was open down to her buttocks and the bra strap was visible. Her panties also showed in the back, above the low cut of the dress. She slipped off her panties. What the heck, she didn't have any bikini panties. She checked in the mirror to make sure the dress material was opaque enough to hide her pubic hair. The light in the room was fairly dim, the sun had set and her eyes were a bit glassy, but the material seemed to hide her well enough.

They rouged, powdered, laughed a lot and applied bright red lipstick. Picking out the right high heels took some time and when Sandy leaned way over to try on different ones her boob popped out. Got to be careful about that, she thought.

When dressed, Sandy looked so enticing thought Jan. Sexier than she did. "Go on out I'll be right there."

Sandy replied, "I want to check out the shoes in your closet again. These heels don't walk right."

When Sandy left, Jan unhooked her bra and slipped it off. She's not going to steal the show, by God.

The girls hooked arms and made their grand, albeit unsteady, entrance.

The guys looked at each other and nodded, let out some low whistles and handed their wives fresh drinks. "Strut for us and walk like runway models, show off what you've got" said Bob.

Jan hesitated, but then lifted her head, squared her shoulders back and swayed her hips while walking to the center of the room where she stopped and did a slightly clumsy pirouette. Her nipples were clearly outlined through the white dress and in the brighter lights of the playroom, her triangle of auburn pussy hair hinted its way through the thinness of the material. As she strutted before the men her nipples began to extend and form small tepees. She's really turned on by this, thought Stan, and his cock began to say hello. Stan picked up on the admiring grin Bob had plastered all over his face. He's lusting for my wife. It made him proud, uneasy and thrilled.

Sandy began to seethe in her rather foggy mind. That bitch Jan, she thought. No panties and she took off her bra. Those guys are seeing everything she's got. She felt a small trickle of lubrication ooze from her pussy as she stepped back into the hallway, set her drink on the floor and slipped off her own panties. She tossed the panties into the darkness of a spare bedroom.

Jan still flaunted her goodies and teased brazenly. Sucking on her finger while slowly slipping it in and out of her mouth. Turning her back to the guys, leaning over and wiggling her ass. She sidled to her husband and pulled up her dress to mid-thigh so she could straddle his legs and do a squirmy lap dance. When Stan looked down, her dress had ridden farther up, and when she squirmed just right he caught glimpses of wispy pubic hair. He turned to see if Bob had the same view. Bob tried to rubberneck himself a peek, but didn't have the angle. Jan had balance problems in disengaging from Stan's lap, and had to lift a leg so high that Bob got a flash of her naked pussy. She recovered awkwardly and then gave a little curtsy, breathing heavily from her performance. With each intake of breath, her pink tepees did their best to poke holes through the thin material of the white dress.

Both men clapped and whistled and shouted "Ole! Ole!" Jan looked over her shoulder at Sandy with a tiny sneer as if to say "top that."

Sandy took a big swallow of her drink, even though she realized how woozy she already was. She pushed out her chest, handed her glass to her husband and asked Stan to put on some dancin' music. Both men rearranged the bulges in their jeans.

Stan chose a bump and grind hard-driving song and the steady beat blared from the stereo. Sandy put her hips in action. She strutted up and down and stood before Stan shaking her shoulders back and forth. From the coolness she felt on her right breast she knew it was exposed but kept her head back and her eyes closed. Let them have a peek or two. This was shameful but fun. She swished over to Hubby. He wanted slut; she'd show him slut. Her mind seemed on vacation from her body. She floated and let herself go, allowing her whole being to intertwine with the beat of the music. She wiggled her way to Bob's chair and pried his legs apart. His jeans had a rock boulder pushing up full and hard at the zipper. Rotating her hips as she leaned forward, she tucked her shoulders closer together to let the top gap and spill him a view of her completely exposed breasts. She knelt and put her face to his crotch and licked back and forth along his hard on, tonguing the rough material of his jeans. She lifted back up and looked openly at Stan's crotch before turning to Jan. Jan's mouth hung open and her face was flushed. Should she give the same ritual to Jan's husband? Her eyes questioned Jan's. Jan gave a slight nod.

Sandy slowly boogied over to Stan's chair and bent low to show her breasts. She wanted to give his cock a licking but held back. A touch of reason still lurked in her fuzzy brain. How would she end her performance? Something really daring. A pixie smile crept to her face and she went to the center of the room. The music throbbed steadily and Sandy began a slow turn, increasing to a swiftness that let her skirt begin to climb in the air. She twirled as fast as she could until she was sure the raised skirt left her naked pussy exposed. She slowed her turns to let her skirt begin to fall but dizziness struck her and she lurched forward. Stan was the closest and grabbed her under the arms. His left hand covered her exposed right breast as he gentled her down. Her skirt still rode high enough to see her exposed blonde pussy. Stan slowly dignified the skirt.

Sandy said, "Thanks, Stan, I'm pretty woozy, but I think I'm okay." The nipple that Stan had held felt hot. He guided her to the sit on the couch.

"What we all need is another drink," said Bob, "and you two ladies were fantastic."

Jan said, "I think Sandy won. But now I can't remember what the stakes were. Gimme another cookie, but make my drink a little lighter."

"You did a great job, Jan. About the only difference is you didn't show Bob or me your pussy," Stan lied.

"You've seen my pussy."

"But Bob hasn't seen your cute auburn curls."

"Maybe I'll treat him after that drink. I feel all crazy and lightheaded."

"Aw, c'mon honey. Fair's fair. Isn't that right, Sandy?"

"Why don'tcha show him, Jan. Bob loves pussies." Since she had shown hers, she didn't want Jan to later accuse her of being the more brazen.

"Really? Well maybe just a quick peek even though I shouldn't." She shook her head as if to remove cobwebs. "I'm really blasted, but here goes."

Jan inched up her skirt but it bound a bit on her hips.

"Here, I'll help," said Stan, and he lifted the skirt higher and tugged it far enough for Bob to get a good view.

"Wow, it's the best auburn pussy I've ever seen."

"Really. Prettier than Sandy's?" asked Stan.

"Hers is blonde."

Sandy said, "Oh, yeah. Right. I guess. The room's spinnin' around."

Allowing him to lift her skirt cinched it, thought Stan, she's in never-never land and so is Sandy. They won't remember much in the morning. He decided to chance it and reached up and unbuttoned Jan's dress at the back of her neck. "Let me help get your dress back down now." As his hands went to Jan's hips, the dress top fell away, presenting her naked breasts to Bob.

Bob gave the o.k. sign with his fingers and whispered, "They're magnificent. Great nipples too." Jan became confused with what happened to her dress top and tried to arrange it, but she fumbled in confusion. Sandy's head weaved as Jan's dress fell and she couldn't keep her eyes open, but she continued to sip her drink. Stan said to Jan, "Honey, your dress is all tangled. I'll take care of it. He tugged it down over her full hips and took her high heels off before stripping her naked, except for garter belt and stockings.

"What'cha doin'?" asked Jan.

"Just getting you comfortable. You were about to tear the dress."

"Oh shit. I'm real sleepy. Let me rest for a minute."

Stan eased her to the carpet and signaled Bob to hand him the afghan draped over the back of the couch. He covered her and nodded toward Sandy whose eyes had stayed closed with her head lolled to one side. Bob understood what Stan wanted and began exploring Sandy's dress. It buttoned behind her neck and it required Bob to turn Sandy sideways to get to it. She was so far-gone that she offered no resistance. Once the two buttons were undone, the dress slipped off her arms and he could pry it down over her hips and legs. God she was beautiful, he thought.

Bob cradled Sandy in his arms to lift her from the couch and placed her on the carpet next to Jan. She mumbled something unintelligible and curled into a little ball.

"Jeez, we zonked them good, but what a show they put on," said Stan. "I've never been so horny."

"My balls are bursting too, we're lucky they didn't get sick or something."

"So now what? Besides getting rid of the cookies and hiding my pot again?"

"I'm going to screw my little Sandy silly. She always got hot after smoking some weed. I'll bet she comes back to life with a good dick in her."

"So are we going to put it to them right here?"

"I think we better before they sober up. Let's get some pillows to prop up their heads and I want to put another under Sandy's rump. I get deeper penetration that way. She loves it."

"I'll be right back," said Stan, before heading for the bedroom.

Bob lifted the covering from Jan to get another look at her auburn pussy and was still staring when Stan returned.

"You like the view?" asked Stan.

"How could I not. A pussy like hers is something to behold and her mons is more pronounced than Sandy's. Her slit is longer too."

"That doesn't mean she's not tight. She can milk your prick like a farmer does a cow."

" Really? You said my prick."

"I guess I did, but we never planned on swapping." He then took another look at Sandy's golden pussy with the pink lips and licked his lips; "This is a once in a two lifetimes opportunity. Right time, right place. Everything fell together. Do we dare? It's now or never, but we shouldn't, er, couldn't."

Bob sighed and nodded. "Serendipity doesn't strike often, but we mustn't take advantage. I'm going to turn Sandy over on her back while you put the pillows under her head and ass."

Sandy protested with sleepy talk but relaxed spread-eagled on the pillows. Jan was then positioned the same way. They both unbuckled and pulled down their jeans along with their shorts. Two massive hard-ons speared the night air. Bob continued to stare intently at Jan's propped up naked pussy while Stan stared at Sandy's. "You're thinking what I'm thinking aren't you." Stan nodded his head. "It'd be playing with fire. Three alarms or more. We might have dual divorces if they find out."

"Not necessarily. Not if we're careful. Does Jan use birth control?"

"Pops a pill every day. She wants to wait a couple of more years for kids. How about Sandy?"

"IUD. Her doctor's on her case about removing it but she loves its convenience."

"Well, that covers that, but do we dare play switcheroo."

Bob took another long look at Jan's gorgeous pussy and said, "Hell yes and the devil take the hindmost."

"What's our fallback position if they discover what's happened."

"Simple! We blame it all on them. They got glassy-eyed ***** and came on to us big time! It all started with their dancing and progressed from there. They wanted a taste of new dick. They begged us for it."

"That works for me. And they're too far gone to remember if it's true or not. Lights on or off?"

"Off is safer, but I must be strange or something. I want to watch you sink that dick of yours up to its hilt in Sandy's sacred little pussy."

"I'll just leave that one small night light on. Any hints about Sandy's special turn ons?"

"Start by sucking her tits. It drives her wild. What about Jan?"

"Go straight to pussy licking. She's a moaner and works her hips like a sewing machine. You know we're a couple of assholes for doing this."

"Sure we are, but lucky assholes, and I can't wait any longer"

Bob scooted down between Jan's thighs and began to run his tongue back and forth along the sensitive skin on each side of her pubic hair. The hair wasn't coarse, but felt soft to the sides of his tongue. Carefully, he parted her labia and trenched his tongue the length of her pink slit and paused to flick it against the tip of her protruding clitoris. Her hips squirmed slightly and she inhaled deeply. As Bob continued to kiss, suck and nip lightly at her enlarged clit, he lifted his hands to her breasts and caressed her nipples, gently wiggling the tips to full extension. Railroad spikes all right; they extended out a full inch. The dual attack at Jan's pleasure buttons started her engine. Her hips pushed up hard against Bob's tongue and then increased in rhythm to rabbit speed. Her mouth flew open and her eyes squinched together. Her hands came down to grab Bob's hair and force his face deeper into her. Her lubricating juices flowed and Bob felt small spasms begin. They increased in tempo with the movement of her hips. When her orgasm came full flower, she lifted her cute ass completely up from the pillow and squealed like a myna bird, before collapsing again. Bob could feel the little after shocks of tiny spasms before he raised his head from her wetness.

Bob sat up and willed his heartbeat to slow down. He'd almost shot his load, but he had only made a dent in the sexual pleasure he expected to enjoy that night, and he didn't want to have to file an accident report. He forced himself to think about the problem with the Ferguson Contract at the office. Anything to forestall ejaculation. He had come so close to coming, but he wanted to save it for when he fucked her. He could hear Sandy moaning but waited a few seconds to calm a bit before turning to look at his wife and Stan.

Stan had given her tits some workout. Her nipples glistened with saliva and stuck out farther than he could ever remember seeing them. She wiggled her ass from side to side as if to say come on and stick it in me. And Stan was poised to do just that. He held his long cock in one hand and eased apart her vaginal lips with his other. He must have a good seven inches there, thought Bob. His own cock might be somewhat shorter but was thicker.

Bob felt precome trickling down the side of his prick as Stan slipped the bulbous knob of his prick into Sandy's moist crevice. Sandy's fingers clenched as she rotated her hips up to have more of Stan's hardness within her. Stan shoved and Bob watched Stan spear the whole of his dick into Sandy's propped up pelvis. An "Ooh-ooh-oh!" came from Sandy's mouth and her fists beat a tattoo against the carpet. She loved it and Bob got hotter from the pride of having such a delectable wife.

Bob felt his imminent orgasm had subsided and turned back to see Jan, spread-eagled and helpless. Her breathing had slowed but her pussy still exuded tiny drops of moisture. Bob positioned himself on his knees and scooted forward to let his cock rub against her inviting slit. With her hips propped up on the pillow it made him think of a virgin princess spread to offer herself to a high priest. He would be that priest and felt he'd earn an honorary Ph.D. degree in theology before the night was over. His left hand trembled as he spread her vaginal lips and inserted his cock head. She was so warm and smooth, tight and silky. Since she was thoroughly lubricated he could slip himself in slowly, even easily as he wanted to savor every millimeter of penetration. He continued the trip until his every inch impaled her. So tight and soft were the walls of her passage that he remained still for a moment to enjoy the feeling. Then out again carefully to rub his cock head across her extended clit. Back and forth he massaged her clit with his penis and her hips began to push her pelvis up to him. It started slowly like the wheels of a train beginning to move an engine from a dead stop. Woo-Woo thought Bob, as they both started to pick up steam. He plunged his cock once more into her vaginal sheath and the wheels of their train ride gathered speed. Chug-chug-chug, faster and faster. Jan's hips picked up the rhythm and scissored faster to match Bob's increasing speed. So soft, so hot so tight thought Bob as he gave over to Jan's sweetness and let those feelings engulf him to the exclusion of any other thought. His pumping slammed over and over again into her willing love sheath and without any special warning his sperm and semen gushed out in strong spurts, and he felt her vaginal muscles contract to squeeze gently around his cock as a flood of her own juices mixed with his secretions. She squealed, before collapsing her legs and hips. Bob's frame lay full upon her, now relaxed and spent.

The sound of Stan's testicles slapping against Sandy's bottom and her moans and groans of pleasure brought Bob out of his reverie. He pushed up and away from Jan with reluctance, but he wanted to see Sandy at her moment of orgasm. He turned to see Sandy's head turning from side to side and heard the hiss of, "Yes-yes-yes!" whisper from her lips before more moaning. She was so close now because her hips pushed up from the pillow beneath her and hovered for two or three seconds. Her thighs and long shapely legs began shaking before she let out a sharp cry of ecstasy and collapsed down in a heap. Her breath still came in gasps but began to slow down. Poor Stan was spent. He rolled away gasping but began to recover with a huge, smug grin forming on his mug. "Holy, Jesus, Christ," he muttered between breaths, "that was awesome."

"Ditto," Bob said. "Jan was fantastic."

"Let's not quibble anymore over who has the greatest wife. We are two lucky, lucky fellas."

"Agreed. But will our luck hold come morning?"

"It might be afternoon before we know if we'll get by with this. Those gals are in Zonksville."

"Do we try to wash them up? And how about the love spots on the carpet?"

"Fuck the carpet stains. I'd be happy to re-carpet the whole damn house if we could replay this scene again."

"Again? No way, Jose. Even if they don't chop off our balls, I'm afraid this time is the only time."

"You're probably right, but let's get some blankets to put over the girls and discuss our options."

After the girls were covered, Stan said, "Your idea of them coming on to us is great, but if we want to play a little Russian roulette I think I see a way to make this happen again. Right now, the gals don't know who fucked whom. If we play it that we each screwed our own wives right beside each other, how will they react?"

"Embarrassed, but it might save our lives."

"Yes, embarrassed, but it will create a barrier in our relationships. It will change everything."

"And swapping won't?"

"Yeah, of course, but the bridge will have been crossed. They won't be left with the satisfaction that they hadn't committed adultery. They'd still have that shred of decency to sustain them. We'd make real martyrs out of them."

"Man you're nuts. You want to play Russian spin 'em with all the chambers loaded."

"I'm a lawyer, right? I know human nature. It's my stock and trade."

"Sounds more like sock and fade. We'll get clobbered."

"No. If they're convinced they were the instigators, and that we poor men were helpless victims to their beauty and charm... really spread it on thick, they will buy it. They think they're shit on a stick. The irony is that they are."

"You should join the circus and walk that high wire without a net. Hopping on one foot. Blindfolded."

"Trust me on this. It will be like opening a jar of olives. Once you get the first one out, the rest come easily. They will play again."

"And you'll handle my divorce pro bono, if your knowledge of human nature only applies to apes?"

=================================================================

Chapter Two

alma647

Both guys snored lightly from their booze-induced sleep. Sandy rubbed her eyes and snuggled back against the warm body wrapped in the blanket beside her. After a few minutes she opened her eyes fully and tried to get her bearings. Where the hell was she? She recognized Jan's playroom or den or ****** room or whatever she called it and bits and pieces of the night before crept through her grogginess. She pushed herself up and, God! She realized she was naked. She remembered dancing. Dirty dancing. What had gotten into Jan and her? Maybe she and Bob could slip out before Stan and Jan woke up. She reached back and poked Bob's chest and almost said wake up. But something was wrong. Too much hair there. She sneaked a look at the warm skin behind her and her heart lurched. Stan had been holding her and he was as naked as she was. Suddenly wide-awake, she blushed pinkly and felt ashamed. What had she done? Her thighs were sticky and her pubic hair matted. Fucked! She'd had sex, but with whom? Obviously Stan. How could she have? Jan and Bob would kill her. Bob and Jan? Where were they? Two feet away, on the other side of Stan, two lumps moved under another blanket. That son of a bitch and that slut! She would fix them good! Hold on a minute, babe. Your indignation will boomerang. She was as guilty as they were. Maybe. What the hell had happened? She needed clothes. On the floor across the room in a wad she saw the blue dress. She couldn't be naked when the others woke up.

"Hi, Sandy," said Stan groggily, "I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry but three times, especially after drinking so much, was my limit. I felt terrible when you wanted more early this morning and I couldn't deliver. Forgive me?"

"Huh? Uh, sure. Oh shit-t-t." Sandy buried her face in the blanket.

"You guys awake?" came Bob's voice. "I hope you're still not mad, Sandy. I know I shouldn't have tried so hard to pull you away from Stan, but I thought you might have second thoughts this morning. After all, I couldn't fight Jan off and at the same time keep you from hitting on Stan." Sandy didn't know whether to cry, throw a tantrum, beg forgiveness or throw up.

What she did was jump to the sound of, "Aieeeeeee!" Jan was screaming like cat being spayed without anesthetic.

"Come quiet Jan down, Sandy," yelled Bob.

Forgetting her nakedness, Sandy jumped up and rushed over to cradle Jan in her arms. She stroked Jan's hair and said, "It's all right, dear. Just relax and calm down. It looks like some weird things happened last night. But it's okay now." Sandy saw sex juices had matted Jan's pussy and her eyes thrust pitchforks at Bob.

"Hey, honey. A guy can only say no and fight off a beautiful girl for so long. Especially when his wife is sucking off his best friend." Jan had time to see everyone was naked including herself and her pussy was sore, and she was with Bob not Stan, and Stan was staring at Sandy with lust sparking in his eyes.

"Stan!" she shouted. "What did you and Bob do to us last night? You rapists!"

"Wait a minute here! You and Sandy did the strip teasing and bared your pussies and your boobs and then you went after Bob's dick and Sandy came after mine. We were drinking too much but still put up a lot of resistance. It's just that both of you are so damned beautiful and were so sexily dressed and then undressed. We couldn't stop ourselves." Jan and Sandy pulled apart and looked at each other.

"Is that what happened?" Jan asked Sandy.

"I remember us getting dressed up and dancing for the guys and I halfway remember us showing more than we should have, but after that I'm blank."

"I remember some of that too, but nothing after the dancing."

"I've never seen you two so wild," said Stan, as he stood up with his dick half hard and walked toward the bedroom. "Gotta take a leak."

Bob stood, stretched and yawned. "Me too," and followed Stan.

Sandy's nipples had been rubbing Jan's arm while talking. Neither had noticed until the guys left. Sandy pulled apart and said, "I'm totally confused. All of us are buck-naked. Whatever happened last night is so out of character for all of us. Well, at least for you and me."

"How come I'm not freaked out by being nude in front of you and Bob? Uncomfortable, but not shattered. It's crazy."

"I'm too full of conflicting feelings to think, but I want clothes. Let's go the back way to your room and get something on." Jan grabbed her white dress and Sandy picked up the blue one, covering them partially as the guys came back.

"It's a bit late for modesty," Stan said, "I'll make some coffee while you gals do whatever."

While Sandy and Jan took showers, Bob and Stan whispered in the kitchen almost dancing while making toast and coffee. "By George I think we did it, we did it, we did it," sang Stan to the tune in "My Fair Lady."

Bob said, "They're completely confused. I think we've done it, we've done it and get me to the office on ti-i-i-me."

"Gosh, it's Monday. What time is it?"

"Just 8:30."

"I'm going to call in late, but we'd best skedaddle, partner. The more questions the more likely we are to screw things up. Once the sale is made shut up and get out."

"Shall we just leave?"

"No. Let's try for a kiss good-by. From our own wives of course and tell them not to worry, we forgive them."

"You've got balls of steel."

"It's the only kind to have, except they clang together and make a racket if you don't wear jockey shorts."

After the men left for work, Jan and Sandy sat wrapped in robes, munching toast, sipping orange juice and drinking coffee. "Are you hung over, Sandy?"

"Not much, if any. I'm stunned and beginning to feel humiliated by my actions now that the first shock has worn off."

"I don't buy that story we were told. It doesn't fit."

"We did strip, Jan."

"So we did. But my condition last night was more from drugs than booze."

"Now that you mention it, it fits, but it's been years since I did drugs. Actually, only pot, and I remember it used to really make me hot."

"It affects me more by getting sleepy, but it's one thing to use it intentionally and another if you're fooled."

"Fooled how?"

"The cookies. When have those guys ever cooked? Opening chip bags is the height of Stan's culinary capability."

"Bob's no Julia Child but he could make cookies I guess."

"Let's snoop around. First where is that cookie plate? Ah, in the sink fully rinsed. Stan would never clean up. Unless...."

"I'll check the trash. Look, some cookies are still here but crumbled up. I'll get some of the pieces. Aha, here's the answer to the cookies. They were the store-bought kind. See the curlicue wrapper?"

"Yes, the plot thickens unless you had some in your freezer."

"Not me. I'll get the magnifying glass. Those cookie crumbs may have tales to tell." They teased the biggest chunks over the surface of a clean white plate and Sherlock-Holmesed each piece. "Look one side is fuzzy with bits of leaf and the other side is smooth. But wait this piece is smooth on both sides. That's strange."

"Not if they cooked a few blanks."

"Why would they do that?"

Sandy said, "Beats me, but taste the fuzzy piece and see if you can tell if it's pot."

"I can't tell, it's too small a piece."

"Wait a sec. I know where Stan hides his stuff. It's on the top shelf in his closet. I found it once a long time ago. I can't even remember why I was rummaging around up there. Grab that folding chair and let's explore." Jan found the bag and her eyes got colder than ice cubes down your back. "It's practically empty. Those bastards are as guilty as sin."

"Of sin, I'd say."

Jan replaced the pot and they went back to the kitchen table. "What do we do now?"

"Divorce by murder comes to mind."

"Normally, our men are great. And they make oodles of money. I don't believe they've screwed around on us, but I may be wrong."

"No. I have a gut feeling they haven't. You heard how they bragged on us and how competitive they are. I'll bet it was a dare or a 'my wife's prettier than your wife' boasting. Who knows, but I do know it's pay back time."

"How?"

"We could take lovers."

"I couldn't do that."

"Me neither. But we could pretend. Leave small clues. We could go out together and come home really late with weak excuses. Let a few things slip."

"What if they wouldn't believe we were just kidding? They both can be hot heads. If their macho image is crushed they might do something dumb, like file for divorce. I love that no good rotten husband of mine."

"Good point. But they told us to show more skin. Maybe we can make them eat those words."

"Jan, slow down. You've got a demon gleam in your eyes. What are you thinking?"

"Are you feeling well enough to shop?"

"Sure. And I'm anxious to spend a lot of Bob's precious money. That asshole. Oops."

"Shit, Sandy, forget the nicey-nice facade. We've graduated from the Miss Priss Society and taken a post-grad course in husband swapping, with a dash of slut thrown in. Go get dressed and we'll hit high-fashion heaven." Sandy looked down and blushed.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't find my panties." Jan giggled and so did Sandy.

"I'll lend you some."

"No, I need to zip home and get something nice on, since we're going shopping." With that, Sandy peeled off the robe Jan had loaned her, walked naked back to the bedroom, put on her Bermudas and blouse, carried her bra in her hand and went next door to her house.

======================================================

Chapter 3

alma647

They met in the driveway (both dressed conservatively), climbed into Sandy's Lexus and headed to Renee's, the finest lingerie shop in their area. They gathered up sheer bras and panties, bikini panties, thong panties, g-string panties, teddies, peignoir sets, baby dolls and netted, window-paned stockings.

The dressing room was small and their nipples brushed and bumped against each other in the changing process, grazing each other like a vendor's stick balloons bobbing and rubbing together on a windy day. After the first few "excuse me" they paid no more attention to skin touching skin. They smoked up their credit cards with purchases and Jan chose a pair of sheer black panties to wear from the shop, while Sandy chose a pair of transparent white panties. Both left their bras off and headed to Michael's Boutique.

Michael's carried one type of female apparel. Expensive! A mature sales lady greeted them and asked what they were looking for. "Subtle and not so subtle sex," answered Jan.

The shop wasn't busy that Monday morning so they tried on tons of dresses, gowns skirts and blouses. They bought low-cuts, short skirts, mini skirts, filmy almost see-through tops, see-throughs and two outfits nearly identical. The silk jackets came to just below their hips and each had three buttons. Even with all the buttons secured the vee necks were risqué without bras. Lace camisoles complimented the outfits, if the buttons were left undone.

Earrings, bracelets and necklaces brought the total into the thousands of dollars. The sales lady excused herself and went into the back of the store to soon return with Michael himself. He fawned over both of them, spreading compliments like jam over toast. He assured them that their purchases were astute and their taste in clothes impeccable. But what about shoes? He led them up three steps to the raised balcony of the shoe section.

"We didn't see the shoe department," said Sandy.

"Yes, it's kind of lost by being above eye level. A design flaw on my part." Michael was as suave in his dress as in his manner: a pencil mustache, carnation in his lapel, hair tenderly coifed, and a silk handkerchief in his coat pocket to match the silk of his shirt. His hair was flecked with gray and he had an accent that suggested French.

After seating them with the assurance he would return with the perfect slippers to complete their ensembles, Jan whispered, "He's probably as queer as a six hundred dollar bill."

"Oh, I don't think so, but we could find out."

Jan grinned, "Our new panties, huh? Why not, we have to practice somewhere."

Sandy was helped first. She still wore her dignified skirt, but as he slipped each shoe on her stocking feet, she lifted her skirt up to better see the shoes. With each new pair her skirt drifted higher until it bunched close to her upper thighs. Jan noticed Sandy's breath quicken. Midway through the boxes he had brought out, Sandy scooted forward in her seat, which made the skirt ride farther up. She leaned over with her boobs barely touching Michael's face to pick up a pair of previously tried on shoes." Let me see these once more." When she leaned back, the back of the chair was farther away and she feigned surprise at the greater distance. "Oh," she said, and jerked to grab hold of the chair arms, letting her legs spread and her pubic mound rise to almost touch Michael's nose. She held the position for a second or two before scooting back to the rear of the chair. "Please excuse me, I misjudged where I was on the chair."

Michael's voice quivered slightly. "Perfectly all right. Many people get so engrossed with the shoes that they don't realize they have changed positions." Small beads of perspiration coated his upper lip. Jan saw the outline of his cock twitch in the confines of his pants and she had to turn her face to keep from laughing. She just coughed a little cough and turned back to see a satisfied smirk on Sandy's face.

When Jan's turn came, Sandy excused herself, saying she wanted to check out the bathing suits in the store below. About 20 minutes later Jan came down and said, "Michael may be a few minutes. I asked to try on some boots and you know the gyrations you have to go through to get those suckers on. Michael seems to have created a small wet spot near the zipper of those silk pants. Poor Michael. He asked me to send Mrs. Freeley up to gather the shoes we picked out. Found any appropriate swim suits?"

"Yeah, but I can't try any on, even over my panties. They sprung a little leak."

"Mine too. There must be something going around."

"Yeah, two exhibitionist hussies."

"I'm exhausted. Just grab a couple of bikinis. Light colors. No liners in the bras or in the crotches if they have them."

"How about the thongs."

"Not this time. I'm going to the ladies room and dry with some toilet tissue. Here's my American Express card. Get things totaled and I'll be out to sign in a minute."

When they returned home and taken their purchases to their respective houses, Sandy put on her new blue bikini threw on her beach robe and went inside Jan's back door. "Yoo-hoo, I'm here."

"Just a sec, my bra's not hooking right. It's a front loader, so it should be easy."

"Come on out. I'll help." Jan walked out bare from the waist up. Her firm breasts barely jiggling with each step.

"I think your boobs are firmer than mine."

"What makes you say that?"

"You seem to have less bounce to the ounce than I do."

"Come over to the mirror at the bar. Strip down and we'll compare."

Sandy took off her top and stood beside Jan. "Yours are a little bigger," Jan said.

"Not much if any. Let's both turn sideways and check it in the mirror." Jan stood in front of Sandy.

"Too tough to tell. Face me. Get close." With nipples lightly touching nipples, they examined each other in the mirror. Jan was a half inch taller than Sandy's five-foot- five, so Sandy's nipples brushed the under side of Jan's.

"It feels funny rubbing breasts. Look both of our nipples are starting to grow. My boobs have always been super sensitive. I let boys play inside my panties, but not under my bra unless I was prepared to let them have me," said Sandy.

"Just the opposite with me. Mine are sensitive too, but one finger on my clit and I'm a goner."

"We'd better quit this or I might have to go home and dig out my old vibrator, if I could find it."

"Just one more test," said Jan, as she cupped her hands beneath Sandy's boobs and hefted. She did the same to her own. "I can't tell any difference. You try."

Sandy lifted Jan's breasts and then her own. "Both about the same. Let's go over and walk from the door to the mirror. Fairly quickly."

Side by side walking briskly, Sandy did exhibit more breast movement. But not much.

"You've got me on firmness," said Sandy.

"Some guys like a little bounce."

"I guess, but can you believe we're checking each other out like we're doing. Before last night, neither of us would have considered it."

"That's true. Having shared husbands puts a different perspective on things, but we got screwed in more ways than one."

"How so?"

"Neither of us knows how good or bad it was."

"I assure you Bob knows how to please. You were well serviced."

"No better than Stan does, I bet."

"God, listen to us. We're nuts. Bragging how much better our husbands are when we haven't the slightest idea how they stack up."

"You know what we're talking ourselves into, don't you?"

"I guess so. How do you really feel about it?'"

"Confused. Something to put on the back burner until they've paid double dues."

"I don't want to think about sharing again just yet. Vengeance, thy name is woman, and I want my share!" Jan leaned over and kissed Sandy on the cheek, mashing their breasts together again. "What was that for?"

"To seal our bargain. We've become as close as sisters, maybe closer."

Sandy's eyes moistened, and she kissed Jan back. Full on the lips this time. "That's how real sisters kiss. Now let's hit the water."

"My bra?"

"Let's go topless, no one can see us. We'll take 'em along and figure yours out by the pool."

"From frumpy old ladies suits and dresses to topless in one day. Have we been liberated or what?"

"Either liberated or damned. My mom would say damned."

"Mine too, but they're our lives. Let's live them!"

"What's the program when the guys come home tonight?"

"We confront them with the evidence and make them grovel. Get on their knees and smooch our feet."

"Right on. It's pay back time with a great big P."

Bob arrived home first, whistling as he walked in the kitchen door. "Honey, I'm home."

No answer. He searched the house, mixed himself a stiff scotch and walked across the driveway toward Stan's backyard. Stan's Mercedes whipped into the drive and had to brake hard to stop before hitting Bob.

"Howdy honcho," said Stan, "hope you didn't spill your drink."

"You drive like rabbits fuck. One of these afternoons I'll have that Mercedes hood ring embedded in my chest."

"It'd make a smashing tattoo. You could entice young things to come home with you to see your Mercedes emblem. It oughta work."

"Shut up. The wives must be by your pool. Wonder if they've sobered up?"

"Remember our plan. Let's be indignant and shocked at their lewd behavior last night. Make 'em grovel."

Bob grinned, "They were such wanton sexpots and we deserve an apology. This'll be fun. Grab yourself a drink and I'll meet you at poolside."

Bob stopped with a jerk as he walked out on the pool deck. Some of his drink sloshed out, baptizing his fingers with ten-year-old scotch. Holy shit, he thought, never had he seen so much flesh covered by such little cloth. "Hi ladies. I see you've been shopping."

Both women kept their eyes steady on the books they were reading. Stan appeared at Bob's elbow and gave as low whistle. "Wow look at them."

"Something's gone awry. An Arctic gale is blowing from their direction."

"Hmm. I expected a humiliating begging for forgiveness. Something's fucked up."

"I told you so. You and your cocksure plan!"

"I'll put on my lawyer hat and twist the facts, like I'm trained to do."

"Then have at it. My stomach is doing flip-flops."

Stan strode over to the girls like Goliath heading for battle. "See you two are reading. I hope it's something for moral improvement." Jan slowly raised her eyes and removed her sunglasses.

"You sacks of shit. Both of you should be taken to a Vet to be neutered. Or maybe Sandy and I will save some money and do it while you're sleeping. That Bobbit broad makes a great role model."

"WHAT are you talking about?" Stan asked with huge indignation.

"You two may know how to make money, but you make lousy criminals," chimed in Sandy, who sat up straight in her lounge chair and shot darts with her eyes.

"Criminals?" repeated Bob, with a croak in his voice.

"**** is the operative word here."

"What an accusation. Let's review the facts," said Stan.

"The facts are," said Sandy, "that you guys drugged us with pot and then ***** us when we passed out."

"You can't prove that," said Stan in his lawyerly tone.

"It's the case of the crumbled cookies. We have the evidence in a baggy and it's well hidden," lied Jan, "and Sandy and I haven't decided whether or not to press charges."

Bob downed half his scotch in one gulp and looked up to the sky for divine guidance.

Stan's voice softened as he cajoled, "Now ladies, don't be silly. We can work this out, without all this talk about charges and the law."

Bob muttered, "Oh my God."

Stan shot him a wicked glance, then turned so his back was to the girls and mouthed, "Deny, deny, deny," in a small whisper to Bob. Turning back to the wives, he said, "You are simply upset. Perhaps still a bit hung over? Why don't you get dressed and we'll take you to dinner. You pick the place. The finest isn't good enough for such wonderful people as you two."

"Save the bullshit counselor, we've eaten. And find a motel for the night. Be back here at 7:30 tomorrow morning and we'll let you know our final decision on what action we'll take." And with that Sandy and Jan stood and marched past the two husbands whose mouths were agape.

"I guess we fucked up," said Stan after they left.

"What's this 'we' shit? I told you it was Loony Tunes to go through with it."

"You lapped Jan's pussy with a smile matching that of a kid slurping a double-dip ice cream cone."

"Yeah, but now all the sweetness is gone and we're in Doo-Doosville."

"Let's finish our drinks and go find some goddamn motel."

The next morning at precisely 7:30 two unshaven, disheveled hunks of husbands arrived at Jan's kitchen door to greet the wives. "This is it guys," said Jan, while Sandy nodded. "We're