I walked in the front door about eight-thirty, fully an hour after my usual coming home time. Another twelve-hour shift at the hospital had turned into a thirteen-hour shift, thanks to a late flight call at six-forty-eight. As a pilot on a medical helicopter I was accustomed to the unpredictable schedule of calls but I was quite irritated none-the-less. It was customary for the oncoming pilot and crew to relieve the off-going half an hour early, just to avoid the sort of late-flight I'd just been on. But my relief that evening, a fat slob of a pilot who should have been grounded years ago, had not yet been there when the call came in. So off I'd flown to our city's rural area to pick up some poor slob who had been smashed to bits in a car accident.

I hadn't bothered calling my wife to let her know I'd be late. She was a nurse who used to work on the helicopter with me. It was, in fact, where we'd met, and she knew not to worry if I didn't show up at home on time. She no longer had the problem of waiting for relief. A rising star at the hospital, she was now firmly rooted in the administration. She wore business suits to work each day instead of scrubs, made ten thousand a year more than me now, and she was always home within ten minutes of five-thirty.

Trooping through the hallway from the garage, where I'd parked my car (a Volvo, what else do people in our income bracket drive besides mini-vans?), to the living room, I stopped at the kids' respective bedrooms to look in on them. We had two of them, ages four and six. Laura put them to bed each night promptly at eight o'clock, whether I was home or not, and tonight was no exception. I gave them each a kiss, careful not to awaken them, and then continued my trip to the living room. I was feeling vaguely horny and hoping Laura would be in the mood for a little poke in the whiskers tonight. She wasn't always on work nights, the stress of her job tiring her out easily, so I had been forced into the all too common husbandly role of taking it whenever I could get it. My aspirations slipped down a few notches as I heard girlish giggles coming from the living room. She had a guest, a somewhat unusual occurrence. Laura was a homebody, a Type-B personality if ever there was one. She wasn't much into girlish small talk.

Curious, I entered the living room. Laura, wearing her favorite pair of old sweats and a T-shirt was sitting on the couch, a glass of white wine in her hand. Her face was flushed in a manner that immediately told me she wasn't on her first glass of wine. Sitting next to her was Sharon, our next door neighbor.

Sharon and Tom had moved into their house the day after we'd moved into ours, both of us purchasers of brand-new homes in a brand-new subdivision. Tom was an accountant of some sort. He was a nice enough guy but somewhat of a dweeb. We borrowed each other's tools, discussed each other's landscaping schemes, but that was about it as far as socialization went. His wife, Sharon, was a petite woman who probably weighed about ninety pounds soaking wet. She was attractive without a doubt. Like most males, I'd even wondered a time or two what she would be like in bed, but I'd never had a lot of contact with her. She and Laura had a relationship similar to Tom's and mine. They talked about their houses, they borrowed cooking supplies from each other once in a while, and that was about it. Laura and Tom had no kids and we had two of them. It's uncanny how much of a barrier that simple difference represents in the bonding of two couples.

So it is safe to say that I was a little surprised to see Sharon sitting in my living room drinking wine with my wife. As far as I knew, such a thing had never occurred before.

"Hey Baby," Laura hailed as I entered the room. She giggled a little, letting me know this was probably not the first bottle of wine they'd opened. Laura was not a giggler. "Late flight?"

"Yep," I said, nodding. "Thanks to that idiot Rick." I turned to Sharon. "Hi, Sharon."

"Hi," she said, blushing, giving me a look that told me she knew something about me I probably didn't want her to know. I wondered what the two of them had been talking about. Laura was not much of a drinker. Though very stoic when sober, she had a tendency to run her mouth and reveal embarrassing things when she'd had a few. Once, at a hospital Christmas party, she'd revealed to my boss that I'd cheated on several of my pilot's written exams. "Your wife's been entertaining me tonight. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I answered politely, casting an eye on the three-quarters empty Chardonnay bottle. "Where's Tom?"

"Oh," she pouted, "he went to a stupid basketball game tonight."

She seemed rather angry about this. What was wrong with going to a basketball game? I went to them all the time. Especially on those rare occasions when our city's team was in the running for the play-offs.

"Oh," I said neutrally, not wanting to slam a fellow male. "Well, that's too bad."

Laura got up, walking over to give me a kiss. "It's their anniversary," she explained softly, knowing as wives do, what was going through my mind. She kissed me on the lips, lingering over it, letting her tongue slide briefly into my mouth, something she only did when she was horny.

I glanced over at Sharon as Laura withdrew from me, giving her an apologetic look. The anniversary thing made it different of course. If there was one thing women revered it was the anniversary. Any male would be ill advised to treat such a thing lightly. But I was more interested in Laura's tongue and the promise of later pleasures its invasion into my mouth entailed. Hopefully Sharon had already poured out her sob story, been consoled, and was ready to leave so my wife and I get down, as it were, to business.

"And it's my goddamn fertile period too," Sharon blurted, immediately turning red and apologizing for her outburst. She seemed to be in disbelief that she'd said such a thing.

I found myself unable to offer any comment to that statement. Sharon had told Laura a few months ago and Laura had told me that they, Tom and Sharon, were trying to have a baby and it had been without results so far. This was definitely ground I wasn't about to tread upon. "Well," I finally said, "I'm gonna go take a shower and get out of this flight suit."

Laura giggled again, a sound I'd very rarely heard in our marriage. "Why don't you take off the flight suit and then take a shower," she suggested.

This broke the tension. While I stared at my wife, who was not prone to cracking jokes, Sharon began giggling too. "Yeah," she said, holding her hand over her mouth. "It'll probably work better that way."

I smiled, heading for the bedroom. "All right. I think I've taken enough abuse from you two."

I walked to our bedroom, which also contained the master bathroom and shut the door behind me. I unzipped my fluorescent blue flight suit and dropped it to the floor, walking over to the shower and turning it on. While gathering up a towel, fresh underwear, and my own favorite pair of sweat pants, the door creaked open and Laura strolled in.

She walked up to me, grabbed me around the neck, put her lips to mine and thrust her tongue into my mouth. Her right hand dropped down to my cock and began caressing it in a way she knew I liked.

Immediately turned on, feeling myself stiffening to her touch, I put my arms around her and returned her kiss. "Mmmm," I said, smiling when she withdrew. "Is somebody a little horny tonight?"

"I'm so horny I'd fuck a table leg," she said, dropping to her knees and pulling my underwear down, all in the same motion. She slurped me into her mouth, deep throating me.

I moaned, staggering backward, grasping for support from the wall behind me. Like many married men I was not accustomed to my wife taking my cock into her mouth. She still did it on occasion, which is better action than many of my married friends can claim, but it was still no better than an annual event. I groaned as she bobbed up and down on me, sucking gently with her lips and swirling her tongue around. As abruptly as she'd started however, she pulled back, standing up and licking my lips.

"I can't wait," she told me matter-of-factly, "to have you inside me."

"Why wait?" I returned, grabbing her and pulling her to me. "Drop those sweats and let's do the nasty."

She grinned, pushing me away. "Sharon's still here. We can't do it now."

"Get rid of her," I hissed, pulling her back to me and sliding my cock into her crotch where it rubbed against her sweats. My hands began squeezing the familiar cheeks of her ass. I thrust several times for emphasis.

"Just wait a little," she told me. "She's kinda down in the dumps tonight. Her prick husband went to the game on their anniversary. She needs someone to talk to."

"Let her talk to her Mom," I said, thrusting again. "I wanna fuck you."

"Later," she told me, pulling away. "Take your shower and then come down and have a drink with us." She offered me a sensuous grin. "She won't be here long."

"All right," I finally said. "But let's make it quick."

My dick stayed semi-hard all through the shower. After getting out and toweling off I brushed my teeth, put on my clean underwear and sweats, and found a T-shirt in the closet to throw over my chest. I combed my hair, since we had a guest, and put a few dabs of cologne on for Laura's later benefit.

Before going back into the living room I stopped at the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. Cracking it open, I entered the living room. The two women were sitting next to each other on the couch, giggling about something. I saw that Titanic was playing on the VCR, the volume turned low.

"Titanic, huh?" I asked, sitting down in my favorite recliner and putting my feet up. I asked Sharon, "Have you seen this as many times as Laura has?"

"Probably more." She giggled. "Don't you think it's one of the most romantic movies ever?"

I shrugged. "I guess," I answered. "The special effects are pretty good but the plot is a little recycled, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, you," Laura admonished playfully. "Don't start that again."

"Recycled?" Sharon asked. "What do you mean?"

"You know," I said. "The rich/poor romance plot. It's as old as movies themselves. They just plugged it into a new setting. Remember Pretty in Pink? Same plot. How about The Karate Kid? Hell, even Lady and The Tramp has the same premise."

Sharon frowned, taking a sip out of her wineglass, which was just about empty. "Men," she said. "You're all so unromantic."

"Now, I wouldn't say that," Laura spoke up, defending me. "He can be quite romantic sometimes. You know what he did for our last anniversary?"

She looked interested. "He didn't go to a basketball game?"

"It wasn't basketball season," I joked, embarrassed in advance at the story Laura was about to tell.

"He rented a helicopter and flew me up to this spot in the foothills. It was a little clearing with a stream beside it, miles away from any roads. Completely isolated. He pulled out a picnic basket and a blanket and we had lunch there."

"Wow," Sharon said, beaming at me. "That is romantic. Tom would never do anything like that. He doesn't even bring me flowers anymore."

"And then we had the most incredible sex right there on the blanket," Laura continued. "Bugs and all."

"Laura!" I said, shocked she would talk about such a thing to our neighbor.

"Well, we did." Laura giggled, spilling a little of her wine on her arm.

"I'm lucky if I can get it on my fertile days," Sharon said sourly. "Tom just doesn't seem to be all that interested in sex. Never has been." She shook her head. "It's kind of unnatural, isn't it?"

"Hell," Laura said, "we should trade husbands for a while. I usually have to fight him off."

Sharon blushed a little, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Well how is it," Laura asked, "when he does give it to you? Is he good in bed then?"

She raised her hand into the air and seesawed it back and forth. "He's all right, I guess," she said, her voice conveying the message that even this qualification was an exaggeration for her husband's benefit.

I was quite amazed at the conversation they were having. Is this the way women talk when no men are around? Did Laura ever bash me the way Sharon was bashing Tom? I certainly hoped she never had to wave her hand in the air in a seesaw when someone asked her how I was in bed.

"All right, you guess?" Laura said, raising her eyebrows. "Does he make you come?"

She shrugged. "Once in a while," she answered. "I have to hurry, he finishes up rather quickly."

Wow. Poor Tom. As a fellow male I could imagine how embarrassed he would be to find out his wife was discussing their admittedly boring sex-life with, not only another woman, but with a man as well.

"Well doesn't he ever eat you out?" Laura asked next, making me gape at her. I wondered if she was trying to shock our young neighbor into making an exit so she could get down to business with me.

Sharon blushed again, sparing me a glance, but said, "No, not very much. He's tried it a few times but he usually just, you know, licks a few times and then comes back up. He says he doesn't like the taste of it."

"My God," Laura said, honestly shocked. "That is truly appalling. You really should borrow my husband for a while." She favored me with a warm look. "If there's one thing he knows how to do, it's eat pussy. I'd put him up against a lesbian anytime."

"Really?" Sharon, her eyes shining, asked.

I couldn't help but beam with pride. I was rather proud of my cunnilingus skills. You could say I'd put extensive research into the matter.

"Oh yeah," she answered, suppressing a shiver as she thought about it. "Sometimes he draws it out for a long time, you know, just teasing and bringing me slowly up. Other times he goes right for the gold. He sure knows his way around a pussy, that's for sure."

It was at this point that I first noticed the sexual tension floating around the three of us. It was like a charge of static electricity, building rapidly, waiting for some sort of release. I looked over at Sharon, sitting next to my wife on the couch. She was wearing a pair of black stretch pants that outlined her trim butt and legs. A patterned green sweater covered her chest, accenting the swell of her breasts, which were smaller than Laura's but firmer. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and her face was flushed an exciting shade of red. Her chocolate brown eyes were shining, arousal plainly in them.

Sharon giggled a little. "Well maybe I should borrow him for a while." She obviously meant this as a joke. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked Laura.

Laura smiled saucily. "Not as long as you're only borrowing him," she said. "Hell, I believe in sharing the wealth."

Sharon and I both looked at her nervously, both of us picking up on the fact that it had not sounded like she was joking. Not at all. An awkward silence developed.

"Well, listen," Sharon finally said, "I guess I'd better be..."

"You don't mind being borrowed, do you?" Laura interrupted, looking at me. "I mean Sharon here is a good looking woman."

"Uh..." I started, completely speechless. She wasn't joking. She was offering my services to another woman. Was this really my wife? The woman who interrogated me about each new nurse assigned to my chopper.

"Oh, I don't think Tom would like it very much," Sharon put in, obviously very uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

"Fuck him," Laura said pointedly. "I won't tell if you won't. You told me earlier how horny you were." She waved her arm at me. "Well, right here is the man to take care of that for you. Orgasms guaranteed."

"I don't think it's a good idea," Sharon said, her voice with a hint of regret in it. "I've never cheated on Tom before."

I kept my mouth shut during this exchange, partly because I couldn't think of a thing to say, this was such a bizarre conversation, but mostly because I was desperately hoping Laura would convince her to see it her way. If my wife wanted me to fuck our attractive neighbor, who was I to put forth any objections? In my pants, my dick had hardened just at the thought.

"Well, how about," Laura countered, "if you just let him eat you? He could show you what real pussy eating is all about. That's not really cheating is it? It's kind of like a handshake."

"No," Sharon said, shaking her head sternly but lacking conviction in her voice. "I just couldn't. It's wrong."

"Wrong?" Laura said. To my astonishment she actually inserted her index finger into the waistband of Sharon's stretchpants and tugged a little. Sharon looked at her finger but made no move to withdraw it. "C'mon. Let him eat you. He's so good at it. Wouldn't you like to feel his tongue sliding between your pussy lips, plunging in and out, licking everywhere? Wouldn't you like to feel him licking and sucking your clit until you come in his mouth? God girl, I'm getting wet just thinking about it."

Sharon was actually trembling now, staring at Laura's finger, which was still in her waistband. It looked like she was using the pad of it to gently caress Sharon's stomach. Seeing this, my cock took a tremendous lurch in my pants. Laura had told me once, early in our marriage, that she had an attraction for other women at times. An attraction that, she told me, had led to a one-time lesbian encounter with one of her girlfriends back in high school. She'd never mentioned it again and in truth, I'd always suspected the story was something she'd gotten out of a Cosmo magazine or something as a recommended manner of turning on your man. But now, seeing her with her finger in our attractive neighbor's pants, I was forced to reconsider this notion.

"Aren't you wet, Sharon?" Laura whispered to her. "Doesn't the thought of his tongue in you just make the juice swell up in your pussy?"

Not saying anything, Sharon nodded softly.

"Then let him eat you," she whispered. "I promise you won't be disappointed. Let him make you come. You deserve it."

"Ohh," Sharon moaned, not saying yes or no. But Laura took this as a sign of consent. She withdrew her finger from her waistband and ran her hand down Sharon's right leg. She pulled the leg into her lap and began untying her shoe. Sharon offered no resistance as her shoe and sock were removed from her right foot. Once it was on the floor, Laura patted her lap.

"Give me the other foot," she said.

Sharon hesitated for a moment and I thought the whole thing was about to come to a halt now that she'd been asked to make an overt move to further the encounter. But finally, she picked her foot off the floor and placed it in my wife's lap, turning sideways on the couch to do it. She leaned back, closing her eyes and putting her left forearm over her face. She was trembling all over.

Laura smiled, giving me a loving glance as she went to work on the left shoe and sock. She licked her lips seductively. Once the shoe and sock were on the floor with the other, she reached forward and grabbed the waistband of Sharon's pants at the hips. Without being told, Sharon lifted her hips. Slowly, she pulled them down, revealing a pair of pink panties and Sharon's beautiful legs to my gaze. Laura's hands slid softly along the outside of her legs as she performed this maneuver. I could see the flush of her arousal increasing.