I kept us in position with the trolling motor while we waited for the fireworks to begin. The water of the northwest Arkansas lake was shimmering with the red, green, and white running lights of the hundreds of other boats waiting too.

Meg sat on my lap as I was at the helm of the fishing boat. She wasn’t simply sitting though; she was anchored by the seven inches of hard manhood buried between her legs. In the dark you might guess that was the situation but you couldn’t be sure. My wife Rita was lying down on her side on the forward deck with Meg’s date’s pecker filling her from behind in a spooning manner. None of us were actively fucking, just moving enough to keep the situation working.

Then the show began with lights all over the sky. The “boomers” that punctuated the displays made the pussy that was wrapped around my erection give quick clenches that felt so good. It was my favorite non-spousal place to slide into, having done so many times before, during, and after her marriage. My Rita got variety she enjoyed from the assorted men her sister dated at times like this when we were partying. Swapping was something they’d started in high school and insisted on continuing.

My hands were up under Meg’s top, having a good time with her ample tits. As the finale boomed above us my cock pulsed and squirted its pleasure into her depths. She reached down to gently squeeze my balls. I started the motor and carefully navigated through the hordes of boats to return to our dock. Goodbye kisses were exchanged and Rita and I went in the house.

As was customary in these little celebrations, we reconnected as soon as we got in bed. I enjoyed the erotic sensations of the slippery gift the boyfriend had left and she got the orgasm he hadn’t given her. We slept happily together, our independence reaffirmed.