Emily again. I told you about how I met Paul and Sara in "Hot Tub Service Girl." The story didn't end there. In fact, it just started to get interesting.
After that wonderful Saturday evening, I couldn't get that couple out of my head. So I looked up Paul's email address and left him a note thanking him and his wife for their hospitality. I got a message back that same day, saying that I was welcome over at their house any time. I responded with "How about Saturday afternoon?" and the reply came back "Great!"
So right after tennis practice, I was at their house. They were waiting for me in the hot tub, and we got right into fun and games. Before dinner, we'd gotten in two orgasms apiece, and I was so comfortable being naked around them that we just dispensed with clothes altogether.
I found out that my suspicions were correct: it wasn't their first time with a threesome. There had been another student who'd played with them a few years back. She was in Russia now, studying history for her doctorate and teaching English on the side. "Elly was practically part of the family," Sara told me. "God, she was hot! It wasn't easy to get together while our kids were around, so we had to be more discreet."
"Where are your kids?" I asked.
"Jessie's a junior at OSU, and Jeff is graduating from Princeton in June. Jeff may be home this summer, but Jessie's going to go to Europe right after school to take a summer job in Paris. One of those student exchange things."
So we chatted and fucked some more, and agreed to see each other the following weekend. That weekend led to another, and before long, I was there every weekend. Since the weather was warm, I'd just wear a sundress and some sandals, with nothing on underneath. I almost never wear a bra anyway, except when I need something to keep my nipples from poking out. I actually enjoy the feeling of cloth on my nips, and they get hard easily. With tight shirts, that's sometimes a problem, but most sundresses are cut with more bosom than I can use, and the extra cloth makes the erections less noticeable. And panties didn't seem to make much sense either, so I usually went without (except when I was wearing jeans, which have seams that chafe my girl parts). As soon as I walked through their door, I'd kick off the sandals, strip off the dress, and be naked in ten seconds flat.
Maybe I'm a closet nudist, but I just loved to be naked in their house. They were usually naked, too, and if we weren't actually fucking each other, we'd be flirting. Both of them seemed to love me just for who I was, booblets and all. And once we'd fucked each other silly, and all the lust was burnt away for a while, I found them wonderfully easy to get along with. Before long, I was in their regular social activities, too. We'd go to parties together, attend concerts and lectures, and go to the movies. By the time summer rolled around, I felt just as much a part of their family as I was of my own.
When the spring semester ended, I opted to go for some summer classes, because what with my tennis competitions, my class load during the year was getting heavy. When I told Paul and Sara, they made me an offer I couldn't refuse: move out of the dorm and live with them, rent-free. Since I'd practically been living with them anyway, it seemed the logical step. So I moved in with them that very week ... not only into their house, but their bed as well.
Sometimes, at parties, Paul would introduce me as his "second wife," and that got a lot of laughs, but it really wasn't all that far from the truth. He distributed his hard-ons and his cum equally to us ladies. If one of us wasn't in the mood, the other would be, so he got plenty of tail. And when we were both in the mood, he got even more! And when he wasn't around, Sara and I found plenty of ways to amuse each other. I remember when Paul was gone one weekend, and we girls were almost always making love to each other in a sort of dreamy, low-key way, keeping each other aroused, spending hours in bed teasing each other, drinking wine, and smoking pot. We loved each other as much as we loved her husband, but just in a different way. We could spend hours just looking into each other's eyes and caressing each other, without the pressure to bring each other to climaxes.
A very cozy relationship all around! And it didn't change until one Saturday in early July.
I came home as usual from tennis practice. I know Paul and Sara wouldn't be home, because they'd told me they were going shopping that day for a new car. I walked in the door, stripped off the sundress, kicked off my shoes, and went into the hot tub room.
The hot tub was already occupied.
I saw a young man with a thin face and ginger hair and beard. He was in the tub, facing me, with his arms stretched out along the rim of the tub. I couldn't see anything of his body below his nipples, but could see that his shoulders were well-muscled and he had a light covering of ginger-colored hair on his chest.
I, of course, had nothing on my chest. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
I shrieked and covered my crotch and tits with my hands. "Who the hell are you?" I cried as I glared at him.
"I'm Jeff. I live here. Who are you?"
"I'm ... you live here? No, I live here!"
"Oh, you're Emily. My parents told me about you."
I blinked. Of course. I'd seen a picture of their son, from his high school graduation. Here he was, but something was different. The beard. That was new.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get into the tub?"
I blinked again.
"Come on in. There's enough room." He smiled.
I smiled back and dropped my hands. "OK. But this is a little ... unexpected. I don't have a suit."
"Neither do I. Not here, anyway. Mom and Dad told me I didn't need one."
Indeed. I sure hadn't ever seen them there in anything but their birthday suits. Well, I can be just as naked as he can, I thought. So I walked up to the tub, got in, and settled down in the seat so that my own nipples were just under the water's surface. Part of it was modesty, and part of it was that I didn't want him to see how hard they were getting.
"When did you get in?" I asked.
"About an hour ago. I left late yesterday evening and drove all night. I stopped at a rest area to try to get a little sleep, but it didn't work. Don't be surprised if I fall asleep right here in the tub."
I laughed. "I've been that way lots of times."
"So you're living here now? I didn't see anything in the guest room, and Mom told me to just move my stuff into there. Um..."
Well, here it is. If he went to Princeton, he obviously has a few functioning brain cells, and it won't take him long to figure out what's going on. So I took the direct approach.
"Well, actually, you can have the guest room all to yourself. I sleep with your parents."
"You do? Wow."
"Wow? Is that all you have to say? Wow?"
"I don't know what else to say, except that I'm not really too surprised."
"No. My parents have always been pretty liberal. Free-thinkers, you know. I mean, I was drinking wine at dinner when I was fifteen. And the first time I had weed was when my Dad passed me a joint. I guess I was around fourteen then. They said it was cool as long as I only did a little of it, and only when they were around."
"Jeez, my parents practically had a seizure when they found a hash pipe in my purse! I was grounded for a month!"
"That's what I hear from most of my friends, about their parents. Believe me, I know how lucky I am."
"You sure are. Did they tell you about me? What did they tell you about our ... living arrangements?"
"They only said that you were staying with them for the summer, and that your name was Emily. When I looked in the guest room and didn't see anything of yours there, I assumed that you had a room in the basement or somewhere. I really don't know this house, you know. My parents only moved here this spring."
"That's right. I forgot."
"Look, whatever your arrangement is, it's cool with me. You're an adult, my parents are adults, and I'm an adult. And I know that they've done this sort of thing before."
"What sort of thing?"
"Sex outside of their marriage. My sister and I always knew something was going on with ... what was her name? Ella? Elly. Mom and Dad tried to keep it from us, but we knew. Our old house had this weird arrangement with two master bedrooms with a bathroom in common. Elly had the other master bedroom, and you could go through the bathroom from one bedroom to the other without going through the hall. And when we kids would have sleepovers with other kids, they made sure that Jessie and I would both be out of the house that weekend, so the three of them could have the house to themselves. It wasn't hard to figure out."
"Were there other women? Or men?"
Jeff thought a minute. "I don't know. I don't think so. Mom and Dad weren't into casual relations. They really loved Elly, almost like a sibling, or a spouse. They stayed in touch with her when she left. They still do. I think that they would really have to love somebody a lot if they were going to share their bed with her." When he said that, he looked at me. And suddenly, I realized how much Paul and Sara meant to me, and I to them. I looked at Jeff quietly. "Did you mean that as a compliment?" I asked.
"I meant it as a statement of fact. I mean, if they think the world of you ... and they obviously do ... then you must be a very special person."
"I know. Thank you for saying that."
.... There is more of this story ...