Chapter 23: Making Friends

“Where you going, Mom?” asked Frankie Houseman. His twin brother repeated the question. They were in a phase where whoever spoke second parroted the first. It was driving their mother bonkers.

“Your father and I are going out to dinner,” Brenda replied. She was cooking up a couple of hamburgers in a skillet in the kitchen. A pair of plates at the side held a hamburger roll each, along with slices of American cheese.

“Yeah, but where?” he pressed.

“Yeah, but where?” was repeated from his lookalike.

She twirled to face them, waving the spatula at their grinning faces. “Knock it off you two! No more of this, understand!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The boys giggled and ran out of the kitchen almost bowling over their father as he walked in. Brenda looked daggers at her husband. “They’re your sons, not mine!”

“Hey, I was present at the back half of the project, but that doesn’t mean I was there for the front half,” he said with a smile. Frank had indeed been in the delivery room with Brenda during the delivery, holding her hands while she cursed him royally for the pain she was in.

“Very funny! This just proves they’re yours! Only an asshole like you could father two little assholes like them!”

Frank laughed loudly. Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, he asked, “You kiss your children with that mouth? I am going upstairs to take a quick shower and change. I certainly can’t stay in the presence of such an uncouth and foul-minded person.”

“Asshole! Send your offspring back in here. Dinner’s ready.”

The ravening horde, both of them, came thundering back in even before their father could yell for them. Frank headed upstairs while Brenda stacked the burgers and cheese on the buns and served them up with some chips on the side.

The doorbell rang just as she finished setting their plates down. “Don’t you two move!” she ordered, and then she headed to the front door. It rang a second time just as she touched the doorknob. “Coming!” she cried out. Opening the door, she found a short and cute teenaged girl. “Thank God! Come on in!” she said, pushing the screen door wide open.

Carlita Manolo laughed as she stepped inside. “Having fun?” she teased.

“They’re yours now. Whether you let them live or not is entirely your business. I promise I won’t prosecute.”

Carlita laughed again. She was a cute sixteen-year-old, with good English skills, though with a definite South American accent, and Brenda never really wanted to know her immigration status. She attended the local high school and had been recommended by some friends as a babysitter; getting La Imigra, the INS, involved would probably be counterproductive. “They’re good boys! They’re the only twins I sit for. You’ll have to keep them.”

“Bah! Humbug!” She led the teen back through the house to the kitchen. “You two behave or else!”

“Of course, Mommy, we’re wonderful children!” said one of the boys.

“Of course, Mommy, we’re wonderful children!” repeated the other.

Carlita giggled as Brenda growled and headed upstairs. Brenda found her husband just getting out of the shower and reaching for a towel. “What is their latest outrage?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you over dinner,” she answered. She quickly stripped off her sweatpants and shirt, peeled off her underwear, and stepped into the shower. When she got out ten minutes later, she was alone; Frank had dressed and already gone downstairs. She was back down in the living room in another thirty minutes, after having dried her hair, done her makeup, and dressed.

She came into the living room, where Carlita was chatting with Frank while the boys played Nintendo. “How do I look?” she asked. She was wearing a halter topped wrap dress, calf length, in a silky fabric that clung to her, and a pair of high-heeled sandals.

“Muy bonita! Very sexy,” commented Carlita.

Frank said, “Nice, very nice!”

The twins ignored her. Brenda still went to them and leaned down to kiss them on the tops of their heads, then stood straight. “Get me out of here!”

Carlita and Frank laughed, and her husband grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. He was wearing pressed khakis and a long sleeve dress shirt, the sleeves partially rolled up his forearms, and loafers. “We might be late,” he told Carlita.

The teen smiled. She had her mother’s car outside and the local cops never hassled a sober pretty girl about driving late. Rubbing a thumb and fingers together in the universal symbol for money, she laughed and said, “Bueno, muy bueno!” Frank and Brenda laughed and scooted out the door. Their children never even looked up to see their parents leave.

“They’re your sons,” muttered Brenda as they walked to the car. Frank simply chuckled at this. Brenda went around to the passenger side and slid into her seat. When Frank climbed in, she asked, “And the plan for tonight is?”

“Like I told you before, we go to dinner and then meet someone afterwards for drinks in the bar. Sort of a get-to-know-each-other session. Everything works out, we ... get together.”

“We’re auditioning?” commented Brenda.

“Sort of, I guess. I mean, this isn’t exactly a swingers’ club we’re joining, you know? What if you don’t like her? Hmmm? It gives everyone a chance to call things off without getting too embarrassed,” replied Frank. He made the turn and got onto 192, headed towards Orlando.

“And dinner is...?

“Dinner is at the Hyatt Regency. Afterwards, we’ll head into the bar. We’re meeting her at eight in the bar.”

“Out by the airport?” asked Brenda.

Frank shook his head. “No, the one over on Grand Cypress. We have dinner reservations at 6:30 at Hemingway’s.”

“Oooh, I’m impressed already. And afterwards, if the meet-and-greet works out, a room upstairs?” she asked.

Frank nodded at this. “She said it would be very convenient.”

“So, who is this mystery woman? You haven’t told me anything about her, except that she’s good looking and that I’ll like her.”

“That was the deal. She’ll meet us in the bar and take it from there. If she gets cold feet, we won’t see her. We’ll just have a few drinks and go home.”

“Sounds pretty cloak and dagger to me, like a bad spy movie.”

Frank shrugged. After their return from Key West, he and his wife had discussed further ‘adventures’ like what they had experienced with Liz Burroughs. For her part, the following weekend she had brought Frank over to the Tallman’s after dinner Saturday night, ostensibly for a quick drink, but once inside she confessed to her husband that Tom and Terri were the people she had been fucking for well over a year. Frank had been quite astonished, his jaw dropping to the floor as his friends and neighbors admitted to their lifestyle and even showed him the website Terri was on. After recovering from the initial shock, all four had retired to the basement family room and engaged in a wild foursome beyond anything he had ever thought of before.

Tonight, the shoe was on the other foot. Starting with their return to Kissimmee, he had told several women who had asked for a private ‘lesson’ that his wife had found out about his special lessons and put an end to things. This invariably caused the woman to both sympathize and suggest they keep going anyway. His reply to that had been a surprise to almost all of his tennis partners, that Brenda wouldn’t mind as long as she got to join in.

That had caused more than a few shocked stares. At least half simply refused outright, and several others commented that they were okay with it, but practicalities would be a problem. They would have to do it during the day, and not in their home or at the club, and Brenda’s work hours were an issue. Tonight was actually the first opportunity that had presented itself.

Dinner was excellent, and they had enough time to move over to the Hurricanes Lounge before eight rolled around and order up a drink. They settled into chairs at a table, while Brenda kept looking around the room. “Who is she? Is she here? Did she leave?”

Frank laughed. “Will you give it a rest? You are way too nervous. She’s already coming over.”

Brenda turned to look over her shoulder, to see a woman approaching their table. She was a very good-looking redhead, tall and slim, with an average-sized bust and impossibly long legs and a butt to die for. She was wearing a little black dress and black stilettos. She smiled as she saw the Housemans turn to face her. Coming to the table, she bent down and kissed Frank on the cheek. “Frank, it’s so good to see you again, and this must be your wife. It’s nice to meet you!” She leaned over and kissed Brenda on the cheek and then sat down between them.

Brenda was too shocked to respond. It was Alison Tankersley from the club, wife to Jared Tankersley! She had seen the pair of them at several club events and dinners. The pair was the quintessential beautiful couple, young, rich, successful. Jared was a very successful investment banker, and his wife was a tax lawyer. Jared was quite possibly the best-looking man she had ever met - he was tall, slim, and muscular, with the face of a movie star, square jawed with dimples and a cleft in the jaw, sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and perfect lines and features. They were both about the same age as the Housemans, but looked younger, tanner, and fitter. What in the world was Alison Tankersley doing with them when she had a Greek god back at the house?

“Yes, this is my wife, Brenda. Brenda, you know Alison Tankersley from the club,” said Frank.

Brenda didn’t say anything right away, which left Alison smiling at Frank, who waved his fingers in front of his wife’s face. “Earth to Brenda, Earth to Brenda.” He snapped his fingers, and she started in surprise.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She nervously picked up her drink and drained it.

Alison laid a gentle had on Brenda’s forearm. “It’s all right, Brenda. I guess that Frank really didn’t tell you, did he?” She raised an arm and signaled to the waitress to come closer.

Brenda blushed. “No, he didn’t. I guess I’m just nervous. We’ve just started doing ... uh ... this sort of thing,” she answered haltingly.

Alison laughed brightly at this, and Frank chuckled. The waitress came over at that moment and Alison ordered another round of drinks, along with a chocolate martini for herself. Once the girl had left, she said, “Well, don’t worry about it, you’re doing just fine.”

“It’s just that with the meeting here and waiting for you - it was all a little nerve wracking, if you know what I mean.”

“I apologize for that, but I wasn’t able to get into town any earlier. I flew back from Jacksonville this afternoon and had to stop at the house first.” Brenda had seen pictures of the ‘house’ on a local TV show. It was sort of like Buckingham Palace, but larger.

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Alison sipped happily at her martini. She even ordered a refill before the waitress had a chance to move away. Once she had left, Alison smiled at Brenda. “So, I had no idea you two were more adventurous. I’m delighted!”

Brenda shrugged. “I didn’t know either. I didn’t even know Frank was giving private lessons until I found the evidence.” Both women looked over at a sheepish Frank.

Alison laughed brightly. “Oh, that? That was nothing. I mean, does it really matter where a fellow has lunch as long as he’s home for dinner?” Brenda bit her tongue to keep from saying just how much it mattered, and Alison continued. “I have to say, though, that Frank really knows how to play. Does he teach you as well as he’s taught me?”

Brenda choked on her drink slightly. “Maybe we’ll just have to see what his lesson plan calls for, so I can let you know.”

Alison laughed brightly. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“Where’s Jared?” asked Frank.

Brenda stared at her husband. It seemed the height of boorishness to be discussing the man they were all about to cuckold. Alison saw Brenda’s look of disbelief and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, dear. My husband is not going to be an issue.”

“No?”

Alison smiled again, and practically purred. “No. Let’s just say that Jared might be interested in joining in but would be much more interested in a private tennis lesson with Frank.” Turning to Frank, she answered him, “He’s staying several more days in Jacksonville and will fly home on Saturday.”

Brenda coughed her drink up, causing Alison to pound her on the back for a moment. She stared at the others and said, “You mean Jared ... he’s ... oh my God!” Alison gave a ghostly smile and sipped her martini. Brenda looked around to see if anyone had noticed her coughing fit, then turned back and whispered, “Really?”

“Absolutely!”

“Did you know about him, before, I mean, before you were married?”

Alison finished her martini and picked up the second. “Yes, I did. Shocked?”

“Uh, maybe. Maybe more curious than shocked, though. I don’t mean to be rude, but it is kind of unusual, isn’t it?” responded Brenda.

Frank simply grinned at his wife. He had already learned most of this from Alison before, and seen the proof with his own eyes, watching Jared around the tennis club. While he didn’t have anything against gay or bisexual men, his ‘gay-dar’ had definitely pegged Alison’s husband as a little different. Alison replied, “Let’s just say that while neither of us is overly particular about who is providing the orgasms, Jared’s preferences are a little more outré. Unless Frank is a whole lot more cosmopolitan than I’m aware of, Jared won’t be invited to this sort of soiree.”

Brenda goggled at the thought. She quickly finished her drink and signaled for another. “Wow?” she commented.

“Did I surprise you?” teased Alison.

“I guess so!”

Alison leaned closer and lowered her voice even further. “Well, can I assume that when Frank invited me to join the pair of you, that you like ladies as much as he does?” When Brenda wordlessly nodded and blushed, Alison continued, “Excellent! So do I! I can’t wait to do some sixty-nine while he fucks us from behind, first you and then me!”

Hot juices suddenly seemed to flood Brenda’s pussy, and she could feel her nipples crinkling. Her face flushed and her breathing coarsened. “Now?”

Alison smiled. “Let’s finish our drinks first.” She discreetly slid a key card across the table to Brenda, whose eyes widened at the sight of it, but she calmly reached out and covered it with a hand. “Then I’ll stand and leave, and you follow me a minute or two later. Alright?”

“Perfect,” replied Frank. He smiled at his wife, sensing her desire.

Five minutes later, Alison put down her glass and stood, leaning over to kiss both Frank and Brenda on the cheek. Shortly afterward, Frank stood and took his wife’s hand; she slipped him the card key. It was in a little cardboard envelope that had the room number written on it. He paid the bill and led her out of the lounge. They moved to the elevators and rode silently up, with Brenda nervously holding her husband’s hand.

It took Frank a couple of swipes with the card to get the green light to come on and the handle to twist. He stepped inside, followed closely by Brenda. The room was a small suite, and initially seemed empty, but that proved incorrect. From around a corner, they heard a toilet flush, and ten seconds later the bathroom door opened, and Alison stepped out, still wearing her little black dress and heels. “I gather you found the place all right,” she commented with a smile.

“It’s very nice. I’ve never been here before,” admitted Brenda. “I mean, I’ve been by it any number of times, but never to stop or see or even for a meeting or anything.”

“It’s nice,” replied Alison dismissively. “Jared and I have put up clients here at times.” It was obvious to Brenda that the Tankersleys moved in totally different circles. That didn’t seem to bother her husband, she noted, but he had been fucking rich women at the club for years already. Life could sure prove strange, she thought.

Alison turned to face Frank. “Mmmm, I’ve been so looking forward to tonight!” She flowed towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers. Brenda felt her pussy flooding again as she stood there silently, watching. Next, breaking free, Alison pulled away and faced Brenda. “Now it’s your turn!” Reaching up with both hands, she gently cradled Brenda’s face and leaned in. She was much more tender with Brenda’s lips, but no less needy, and Brenda responded to the tongue probing her lips with her own probing back.

Frank grinned as he watched his wife and Alison devour each other. Adjusting his painfully stiff erection in his pants, he moved behind Alison, sandwiching her and rubbing against her from behind. “You two are way too overdressed!” he commented. As the two women kissed heatedly, he ran his fingers along Alison’s neck and down her spine to the top of her dress. It was a form fitting black sheath, mid-thigh length, with thin straps holding it up. Alison shivered as she felt the fabric pull away as he slowly pulled the zipper down to below her waist. Next, he softly peeled the straps down off her shoulders and lower, stripping her. As the little black number slipped down her legs and pooled at her feet, Alison Tankersley was left standing in nothing but a lacy black thong and her black stiletto pumps.