Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Humor, Swinging, Slow, .
Desc: Humor Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A comedy about middle-aged suburbanites getting frisky while on vacation.
Fred Morgan stepped into the bedroom from the master bath. It was six in the morning. He dressed in the early morning light, not bothering to turn on the lamp. He stepped into his khaki slacks and put on a plaid shirt. In the old days it would be suits and ties, but modern times were different. It was his busy time of the year. His fold-over valise was already packed, along with a small suitcase. In some ways, it was just like a morning in one of the many hotels he stayed at when he was on the road.
He had completed the northern and eastern half of his territory the prior day. He stopped at home at the midway point before taking on the western and southern swing. It would take him a week and a few days. He didn't even take the samples out of the minivan. After a quick bowl of Raisin Bran in the kitchen, he would be on the Interstate, en route to Rochester, his first stop.
One thing that was different from the nameless motel rooms was that his wife, Maggie, lay in their bed watching him as he dressed. Since they were married he always tried to schedule a day home at the half-way point. He could have rerouted himself more efficiently if he avoided the home stop, but he wouldn't consider it. This time it had only been a night. There were numerous construction delays on the Interstate—par for the course in an election year. He dragged himself in at eight-thirty in the evening, but it was still worth it.
Fred glanced at Maggie's reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair and took pleasure in what he saw. He knew she was nude under the sheets. She had that satisfied woman look and it was well that she should wear it. As Fred came through the door at eight-thirty she met him in her—or his—favorite negligee. By eight forty-five it had been cast aside. They never fell asleep until eleven thirty. There is a certain pleasing, serene expression a woman wears the morning after a fulfilling night.
"Do you have a shift at the hospital tonight?" he called to her.
"Yes, I picked up some extra hours since you're going to be away." Maggie was a nurse on the post-op floor of the local university hospital. "Where will you stay tonight?"
"Rochester for two days, then Erie," he recited. "I'll drive to Cleveland and then down to Columbus and then on to Indianapolis. Two days there. Then, I'll swing south and pick up Kentucky, Cincinnati and West Virginia. Pittsburgh and Harrisburg are next; a quick stop in Ithaca and then back home."
She had met him at the door when he arrived for his home visit in the red baby-doll package that he had given her as an engagement present. Few fifty-two year-old women could, or would, wear the outfit. Maggie looked great in it. She had that long, sleek greyhound kind of body that looked like the nightie had been designed just for her. The color was perfect to go with her white skin and jet black hair that she kept at shoulder level. Fred wasn't quite used to her slender figure yet, which was not a bad thing. They had been married just over three years. It was the second chance for them both. A man should try not to get used to such things.
"I forgot to tell you. The Martins had to cancel out on the cabin," she announced. "Something about an out-of-town wedding in the family the same week."
It was a disappointment. They enjoyed vacationing with the Martins for a week each summer. This year they had rented a cabin on Raquette Lake in the Adirondacks. It was a big cabin for two couples, and golf-course privileges went with it. There was a dock for Fred's Boat and it was in a semi-private cove. Besides sharing the expenses, the Martins had proven to be good at sharing good times.
"Can you see if you can get someone to fill in for them on short notice? We're supposed to leave for the cabin the day after I get finished with this road trip. There's no way that I can do this from out of town."
"I'll try, but you know that my circle of friends is quite different from yours."
"I'm sure that whoever you find will be just fine. At this point we just have to move fast." Fred conceded.
He moved over to the bed where Maggie had peeled down the sheets to reveal her two small breasts with the hard, dark nipples. Fred bent down to kiss them in turn. Although they were small, Fred always paid great attention to them. He found that his pleasure came not from their size or shape, but her reaction to his attending them. True to form, she made soft purring sounds as his lips gave each a quick caress.
"Take good care of these, and I'll be back in no time," he said. They kissed on the lips and then he rose off the bed to pick up his luggage. "Keep me posted on finding someone to take the Martins' place," he called over his shoulder as he left.
Maggie's shift didn't start until six that evening, so she had the whole day free. She called her best friend, Pat Wilson, who lived about five miles away and drove over for coffee.
Pat was about the same age as Maggie. She taught high-school English, so she was off for the summer. While Maggie was tall and slender, Pat was her opposite. She was shorter at five-two and had sandy colored wavy hair that she wore down to between her shoulder blades. Though she wasn't tall, Pat's frame sported generous curves. She worked hard to keep them from sagging and to stay slender. She had well-developed breasts beneath a round, dimpled face. Her hips flared out, completing the hourglass figure. She had a vivacious personality, compared with Maggie's reserve. They were opposites in a number of ways, a possible reason that they were such good friends.
"Pat, I have something to ask you." Maggie said as they sat at Pat's kitchen table. "We have a cabin rented for the week after next on Raquette Lake. The couple that we usually go with can't make it. It's a wonderful cabin—complete with electricity, hot water and indoor plumbing. How would you and Charlie like to join us?"
Pat and Maggie met in a support group that they joined while they went through their respective divorces. They found an easy chemistry between them and formed a strong friendship. Even when they started dating again they remained close. They shared everything from recipes to shopping for clothes and home furnishings. They told each other the intimate details of the time spent with their then-lovers, soon-to-be new husbands. They even compared notes on how their men pleased them and the techniques they used to respond. It was while sharing these intimate details that they deduced that each woman's lover was their own former husband.
"That sounds risky—but delicious!" an aroused Pat exclaimed. "Have you broached it with Fred?"
"Not yet," answered Maggie. "I wanted to ask you first. No point in my setting off an earthquake if you can't go."
"There will be a big earthquake when he finds out. I know my ex-husband. You'll have a lot of convincing to do," laughed Pat. "He won't want any part of it!"
"He said that he would go along with whomever I could find," Maggie retorted.
"I don't think that he ever imagined..." Pat countered.
"What about Charlie?" Maggie asked. "He's not as stubborn as Fred, but he won't jump at it either."
"I can handle Charlie," Pat declared. "Fred is the stumbling block."
"You're right," Maggie agreed. "Maybe we'll have to wait until next year. This is a lot to ask Fred to accept without any warning. We've never even been out as couples. Maybe we should try dinner or something first."
"These men of ours are so immature!" declared Pat.
"Well, they're just men!" answered Maggie. "We can't live with them, and we can't live without them!"
"You did say indoor plumbing, didn't you?" asked Pat, covering her bases.
"Including a shower," Maggie assured.
"It's such an opportunity." Pat argued. "It would be a shame to let it go by. I'll bet that Fred would accept it once his bluster wears off. Why don't you give it a try?"
"All right, I'll try," Maggie promised. "It looks like I'll have to break out my red baby-dolls again."
The two women had a good laugh. Although it was humorous, they both knew that Maggie's tactics would be put into action when Fred returned. As for Pat, she had an emerald green number that she would use to convince Charlie.
"It will be worth it," Maggie said. "We've wanted to socialize as couples for a long time, but didn't dare bring it up. Now we'll break the ice in a big way. These husbands of ours will just have to get over their hang-ups."
"You've got that right!" Pat agreed. "I don't think that any of us have serious hard feelings left over from the divorces. We have to help them get over it. It's our duty; we owe it to them."
"The cabin is way up on the northwest corner of Raquette Lake," Maggie added. "It couldn't be more secluded. It's a half hour trek in the Land Rover from Route 28 over a dirt road."
"That will put us all in close quarters whether we like it or not," Pat agreed.
"One thing that comes to mind," Pat continued, "what with being in swimsuits all the time and having some history with the other spouse..." she hesitated.
"I know what you mean!" Pat giggled. "Our boys might get some ideas of having one 'for old times' sake."
"Well, it is a risk," Maggie warned.
"We'll just have to keep them occupied so they don't get any big ideas." Pat said with a grin. "Just don't let Fred wear his Speedos, because I'm taking my bikini. That would be embarrassing!"
"I need to go shopping for a new bathing suit. Mine are faded from chlorine at the pool," Maggie said. "Why don't we go shopping tomorrow?"
The two women broke out laughing at the thought of Fred 'bulging' out of his skimpy trunks. They had convinced each other that the trip was a good idea. They spent the rest of the morning searching the internet for places near Raquette Lake where they could eat and shop while the men played golf or went fishing.
"My red baby-dolls have more modesty than this one!" declared Maggie, as she held up a series of small fabric triangles held together by string. She flung the bikini back on the shelf. It was their third store and so far rejects far outnumbered possibilities. Pat was having a similar lack of success.
"May I help you, ladies?" a sales clerk called out, startling the shoppers.
Pat and Maggie looked at each other, showing doubts. The youthful blonde looked to them like a high-school cheer leader. They wondered how she could relate to the needs of a couple of middle-aged women looking for swimwear.
Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, why not?" she sighed. "Do you think that you could help two old ladies?"
"No problem!" the clerk replied. "What were you looking for?"
"Nothing with a skirt!" Pat insisted. "And by the way, you were supposed to contradict me when I said 'old ladies'."
"Seriously, we're going to the lake for a week, so I should have at least two and probably three suits," Maggie informed her.
That goes for me, too!" said Pat.
"Okay, we'll mix it up and get a few styles out." said the clerk, as she went into action. "Here's a one-piece. Don't let it put you off. The legs are cut nice and high. Here's a nice bikini, and another."
"Those are all nice suits," explained Maggie. "The problem is that they're all young looking. Both of us are in our fifties."
"I know," answered the clerk sympathetically. "Your problem is that most women your age need a more forgiving suit, so we carry those kinds of styles for that age group."
"What do you mean by that?" Pat asked.
"It's just that they have figure problems that they need to hide," the clerk answered. "You two ladies have better shapes than most girls my age."
"Wow!" exclaimed Pat, elbowing Maggie in the ribs playfully. "I knew that this girl was an expert all along."
"It would be a shame to cover yourselves up," the clerk prodded.
"We have husbands to consider," Maggie reminded them.
"It's just for them that we need these suits!" Pat insisted. "I'm taking these!"
The clerk's remarks excited them. In the end Maggie was convinced on three suits as well. Each did buy a one-piece suit for swimming, but Maggie noted that that the cutout for the legs extended well past their hipbones.
"It's for 'full muscular freedom' in the water," intoned the clerk. The three of them broke into laughter at the weak excuse.
They also selected two bikinis each. Maggie thought they were a little too risqué, but was finally convinced.
"These aren't for swimming," Pat declared, "unless you count that rendition of the backstroke that I specialize in."
Pat's remark sent the three women over the top again, as they laughed their way to the register.
At lunch they decided to have an extra glass of wine with their meal to celebrate their shopping success.
"I think that the sales clerk was flattering us on our figures to get us to buy these swimsuits," Maggie declared.
"No, no!" said Pat, shaking her head. "I think she was right on target—more or less." The women started giggling, the extra wine helping them along.
"What does it matter?" Maggie mused. "At that secluded lake, it will only be our husbands getting a look."
"That's what I'm counting on," Pat grinned. "And if he doesn't think that my figure is up to bikini standards, I have a way to make him change his mind."
"Are you talking about the special backstroke again?" Maggie asked.
"You bet I am!" Pat answered. "Or the lack thereof." The women were laughing again, drawing attention from the other restaurant patrons. With the wine spurring them on, they were unconcerned.
When their wine was finished, they paid the tab and drove home.
The women had taken Maggie's car to the shopping mall so they stopped at Pat's house to drop her off
"Come on in and have some coffee," Pat invited as they pulled into the driveway.
"That sounds like a good idea," Maggie agreed. "That buzz from the wine at lunch hasn't quite worn off yet and I have a shift at the hospital tonight."
"Good. Let's try our new suits on while we wait for the coffee to brew," suggested Pat.
As they walked into Pats house they both experienced a sudden shiver as the house had been chilled by the air conditioning and contrasted to the hot summer sun. Breathing in the chilly air made the buzzing in their heads louder.
"We won't have the cabin chilled down like this when we get to the lake," Maggie advised.
"We'll just plunge into the lake to cool off, then. It's good that we replenished our equipment," Pat answered as she scooped the coffee grounds into the coffee maker and switched it on. "Let's try out one of those suits!"
Pat and Charlie lived in a ranch-style house, so the bedrooms were on the same floor as the kitchen. Pat disappeared into the master bedroom, and motioned Maggie to the guest bedroom to change.
"Put on your most daring one," Pat called out through the wall to the adjacent room. "I'll do the same."
Pat was the first to emerge from the bedroom. The coffee maker was just finishing. As she walked over to it she found herself tugging at the sparse material of her suit and she sensed her exposure. She bent to the lower cabinet to pull out two coffee mugs and one of her breasts fell out of her top.
"This suit wasn't made for house work," she excused the wayward top.
She tucked herself in and set about preparing the sugar and cream. While she did so she mused over how long it had been since she had worn anything as revealing. She concluded that she had never done so, at least outside her bedroom. As she realized it, she felt a stirring in her belly.
Before she could ponder her new bathing suit any further Maggie stepped into the kitchen.
"I can't believe that we let that sales clerk talk into these suits!" Maggie groused. "Can these be legal?"
"Stop it!" Pat retorted. "You sound like my mother."
Pat placed her hand on her chin and perused Maggie's presentation.
"Very good," she complimented. "Turn around." Maggie slowly pirouetted in place.
"I feel like I belong on a burlesque stage." Maggie was not done complaining.
"You did say that the cabin is isolated," consoled Pat. "It's not as though we're going to be on a public beach."
"I knew it!" Maggie grumbled. "I know that I can't return it, but I'll never wear this suit!"
"You've got to be kidding!" Pat scolded. "You look fantastic in that suit. If you were twenty you would wear it and not give it a second thought."
"But I'm not twenty. I'm fifty-two," Maggie corrected. "I should act my age."
"You should act the age you feel," Pat argued. "Thirty years ago things like this were off limits to us. Someday in the future we won't be able to wear them without making fools of ourselves. We're going to a secluded lake with our husbands for a week. What better time than now?"
"You're right," Maggie admitted. "I'm worried about what Fred will think when I pull this out."
"I'll tell you!" Pat pointed out with authority in her voice. "He'll think that you're interested in having some... quality time with him, and that's what Charlie will think when he sees me in this."
"By quality time, are you talking about that backstroke again?" laughed Maggie.
"I'll start with the backstroke, but I'm a good swimmer and I know a lot of 'strokes'. I know the side stroke, too, and the crawl. I'm especially good at surface diving." She paused a second to let Maggie absorb her point. "Let's see this suit again," Pat demanded.
Maggie's bikini was as simple as it was revealing. It was solid deep red, a color that was just right for her with her jet black hair and pale skin. It had a halter top with triangular patches of cloth in the place where bra cups might have been. The top closed in front with a brass ring in the center that fastened to loops on the side of each of the triangular front panels. With her small breasts she needed little support or coverage. The suit opened enough for the sides of her breasts to spill over the sides.
The bottom of the suit was just as exciting. It was the same color as the top. It was really two connected small coverings for her front and rear. It was held together by ties on either flank. Maggie's hipbones jut out at the front. The joint of her thighs to her hip were exposed. In back, the contours of each buttock cheek was well defined, especially when she walked.
"You are so toned!" exclaimed Pat, observing Maggie's flat stomach and sculpted legs. "You need to do some trimming, though," she added as she spied Maggie's black hair escaping from the sides of the skimpy bikini bottom."
"Oh, I hate doing that!" cried Maggie. "But, I know what you mean. I saw it before I came out. I'll have to work on it tomorrow after I take a shower."
"I have some, too," Pat confessed. "Maybe we should get it waxed!"
"No way! You've talked me into enough already," was the stern reply.
"I'll tell you what! We'll do each other's." offered Pat. "Don't say 'No'. It will go a lot better that way, and we can get together again to do some more planning for this vacation."
"All right!" Maggie surrendered. "Now let me see your suit. It's only fair."
Pat turned in place as Maggie had. Her suit was similar to Maggie's in some ways. It was a turquoise color that went well with her hair and complexion. Being short in stature and well-curved, her suit was more complicated than Maggie's. It was cut fuller to accommodate Pat's generously endowed breasts and widely-flared hips. It had a halter top like Maggie's, but one that added needed support. As it lifted her breasts it had the effect of pushing them together and outward. It gave the appearance of Pat presenting them to be ogled by whoever might be fortunate enough to be on hand. Although her bottom covered more that Maggie's, it revealed plenty and left no doubt as to her shape or the flexing of the muscles in her buttocks as she walked. It was held together on either side by brass rings, similar to the one on Maggie's top.
"You look fantastic," Maggie assured her. "I wouldn't worry about being asked to 'go swimming'—if you know what I mean."
Maggie looked at her watch.
"I've got to get going. I have just enough time to go home and change and get to my shift."
TO BE CONTINUED