Dear Bill: It was really your idea at first, for me to go out to Block Island for a weekend to relax, but you couldn’t have known what would happen out there. I know you won’t be able to understand right away, but I’ll try to explain it as fully as I can in this letter, and maybe after that it’ll be easier to talk about it face to face.

You remember that especially hectic week in May, full with ladies’ groups, Sunday school, talent shows and bake sales? You and I were sitting in your office in the church, late Friday night, talking about how tired we were. Well, I was talking about it, anyway. You had just finished explaining to me, in your usual stiff fashion, how you couldn’t possibly take a break this weekend-there was no one to do the church service for you on Sunday, no one else who could chair the trustees’ meeting, and so on.

“Why can’t Ross take care of all that?” I asked. Ross: one of your three assistant pastors, the shy blond twenty- something with the awful sense of humor, who had come to work with you after the seminary to prepare for his own career as a minister. He was medium tall and rather good- looking, and we’d been sure we could find a bride for him among our congregation before long, but his self-conscious manner was getting in the way. It had been eight months already, and nothing.

“Oh, Mrs. Hauser,” Ross gasped. I remember your fatherly chuckle. It was going to be a while before Ross had the confidence to face a thousand parishioners from the pulpit on a Sunday morning. And a roomful of the wealthy men who kept the church solvent would be even scarier for the poor boy.

Then you had an idea. “How about this, though? Mr. Wells, one of the board members, offered me the use of his place out on Crown Island for a weekend this spring if I felt like I needed it. He said it’s empty except for a couple of nice kids he knows. They’re staying there free for a month in return for cleaning up the place and getting it ready for summer. There’s plenty of room.” You asked Ross if he’d be willing to drive Mrs. Hauser out to the island in the morning.

“Sure thing, boss,” Ross smiled, relieved.

Why didn’t Ross stay overnight himself, as long as he was out there, you added. “You could use a little time off,” you said. “Just roll out the couch, and c’mon back Sunday, after church.” You remember the Lutheran church you and I visited on the island the summer before. It had a late service for vacationers, so Ross and I wouldn’t have to miss our devotions.

Ross showed up early the next morning in an uncomfortable- looking short-sleeved shirt with a starched collar and a flower print, and a pair of jeans that looked brand new. I made breakfast for the two of you, and after I’d put the dishes in the washer we loaded my bags into the back of Ross’s Chrysler and were off. I left the window open the whole three-hour trip to Montauk, hoping the wind would blow the annoying perm out of my long blond hair by the time we boarded the ferry. It didn’t, but I decided there was still time. I sat outside on the deck as we crossed the ocean to the little island, my denim skirt hitched up and my white rayon shirt unbuttoned as far as I dared, working on a preliminary tan, while Ross sat in the noisy cabin poring over a book written in Greek.

It was high noon and hot when we rolled off the ferry, and I was ready for an hour or so of sleep before hitting the beach, so we made straight for the Wellses’ place. Stepping out of the car onto the gravel driveway and stretching my legs, I waved to the trim, dark-haired young man who was hosing the small front lawn. “Hello, I’m Beth Hauser, and this is Ross, my husband’s assistant,” I told him over the hedge. “Have you been expecting us?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I’m Pete.” He took off his hat to introduce himself better. Judging from his face and his body I thought he must be about 30 years old, but he had some of that prematurely white hair that looks so nice on a middle- aged man. He wore a light plaid shirt and jeans considerably more roughly treated than Ross’s ever would be.

Ross carried our things in while I wandered into the kitchen. There was the tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of juice. I heard the unmistakable “boinnng” of a diving board through the screen doors in the back of the sitting room, then a quiet splash. “I didn’t know they had a pool, too!” I exclaimed to Ross.

I pushed the screen aside and shaded my eyes as I stumbled out onto flagstones and slid the door shut. A tallish blonde woman was pulling herself out of the far side of the 30- foot-long pool. Her hair shone with the water soaking it, and her skin was a rich cream color. She sauntered back to the diving board and stepped out on it, the sun glistening in the drops of water on her body. She was wearing nothing at all.

I covered my gasp with my hand, and looked around to warn Ross. He was right behind me, staring through the screen door, his mouth open. The woman smiled up the sun, looked down and flexed her knees. Her full breasts jouncing with the rhythm of the diving board, she bent over to jump.

“Sue!” Pete called from the kitchen. “I told you company would be arriving soon. Now put some clothes on, will you?” He laughed as her eyes alighted on us for the first time and she blushed right down to her chest.

“All right, coming.” Sue stretched to her full height. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ross’s attention sinking to her hips, to the tidy little thatch of water- pearled hair at her crotch, to her long, strong legs, which suddenly lifted her off the board and into the air. She broke the water neatly, frog-kicked to the far ladder and climbed out. I shook myself awake again and grabbed Ross’s arm to lead him away as he watched Sue’s tanned bottom head for the dressing house.

We were sitting silently on stools at the bar-style kitchen counter, each attacking a second turkey sandwich, when Sue came back in, dressed this time, even if it was only an orange two-piece bathing suit. “Mmm, that sun is nice to the body,” she said with a smile. “Hi, I’m Sue. Are those sandwiches all right? I guess Pete introduced himself already.” Opening the refrigerator, she leaned in for a look, and I nudged Ross to pull his eyes off the thin, stretchy orange fabric.

After we’d eaten, Pete showed me a big guest room upstairs, and I promptly undressed and lay down for a nap. I awoke, it must have been two hours later, to the sound of laughter from the pool below. In the late-afternoon sun, Sue and Pete were sitting together on a chaise lounge across a little table from Ross, who must have been telling some of his infamous jokes. There were bright-colored drinks on the table and the umbrella was rolled up.

I pulled on a modest maillot, grabbed a towel from the closet and skipped down the stairs for a quick swim before it got too dark. The water was wonderful. I splashed back and forth a few times, then leaned my elbows on the side of the pool near the three of them to listen in. Sue got up and came over to offer me a hand up out of pool, then went back and sat down on Ross’s chaise lounge. I took her place by Pete, who handed me a cold glass of wine with a friendly smile.

“I met Pete when I got assigned to a project with him and his friend Wayne,” Sue was saying. Pete nodded. “Wayne couldn’t, ah, make it this weekend,” she said, and giggled as Pete nudged her. She turned and lay back with her head resting on Ross’s thigh. “We’re having some fun anyway, though. You can do a lot of stuff here, with these high hedges.”

Their voices receded as I felt the tension of the last week begin to slip away. I was already feeling the buzz of the wine. Sue lay along the other chaise, her hands behind her head, staring at the darkening sky. I turned to see if Pete had some more of that wine, but his eyes were closed as he took in the last of the sunlight. My eyes closed too, and Pete absently began to rub my shoulder. Sue and Ross seemed like they might as well be blocks away from us. It took me a few minutes, or an hour, I don’t know, to become aware of an odd, rhythmic sound coming from the other chair.

Lazily, I opened my eyes and looked over. Sue was lying on her side, her head in Ross’s lap, her mouth closed around his penis, happily sucking away as if it was what she did every day. She was smiling to herself, her eyes shut, her head slowly bobbing up and down, and now and then she was making little “mmm” sounds as if complimenting some chef on the taste of what she had in her mouth.

I stared at her and then at Ross, horrified. He looked helplessly at me and held out his hands, palms up, as if to say, “What can I do now?”

Maybe he really didn’t know what was happening-it occurred to me that nothing like this could ever have happened to Ross before-but he wasn’t doing anything about it, either. In a moment, he began to breathe more heavily. He glanced at me sheepishly once more, then looked back down at Sue. He ran his hands through her long blond hair as she pushed her face into his lap, and she reached up to brush it back over her ear, as if to make sure Pete and I could both see Ross’s stiff penis slide slowly, shiny and wet, in and out of her mouth.

I turned to look at Pete, and caught him staring at the two of them, his mouth a little open and a slight flush of red on his cheeks. Was he as embarrassed as I was?

I couldn’t help looking at his lap for his reaction. It was unmistakable. I caught myself as my own breath began to quicken. This was not at all acceptable behavior for any of us: I was shocked at myself for sitting here and watching. I made a move to get up, but Pete’s steady rubbing pressure on my shoulder held me back. We sat and watched Sue administering to Ross’s cock, her tongue and cheek muscles working.

I was noticing a decidedly warm feeling in my own loins when Ross’s breath started coming faster and louder, and Sue’s head picked up speed. Her little hand held his balls in a soft grip, and her hips started moving almost of their own accord. Suddenly Ross let out a huge gasp and Sue was swallowing once, twice, my God, three times.

Only when she had got it all down did her mouth open. She rose hurriedly to her knees and skinned down her bikini bottoms right in front of us all, sat back against Ross again, and kicked them off, right into my lap. She panted to Pete, “All right, loverboy. Time for my dessert.”

In one motion, Pete stood and stepped out of his shorts. I caught a glimpse of his private parts as he stepped away from me and knelt at the other chair, where Sue stared up at him. But I had had enough. With a glare at Ross, I tossed Sue’s panties to the bricks, jumped up and ran into the house.

I have to tell you, Bill, I was shocked and worried, even if I was a little bit turned on. I wondered what it might be like to do that for you-it had never occurred to me before. Without turning on my bedroom light I threw my bathing suit to the floor, climbed into bed and pulled the covers tightly around my ears, but I could still hear mating sounds coming from the courtyard below. I was still lying awake, facing away from the door, when I heard Ross tiptoeing down the hall to his room. I stared angrily at the darkness for an hour before finally falling asleep.

I awoke late and dressed quickly for church in my light-blue sundress and sandals. No one was about. I decided to go by myself, leaving Ross alone to contemplate his infraction. I packed up some of the leftover sandwiches and some apples in case I felt like a solitary picnic, and I found a bicycle in the garage with a basket on the front. I rolled it outside and began to ride off.

As I neared the end of our driveway, Pete rode up along the road on a bike of his own. I slowed to miss him and nodded coldly, but he greeted me with a warm smile. “Going the same way as I am?” he inquired. “Let me show you part way there, so you’re not late. It’s a bit far.”

It was sunny and breezy, too beautiful a morning to stay in a bad mood for long. My dress was blowing pleasantly around my legs. We rode quietly for what must half been half an hour, until I tired. I rolled off the road onto a winding track, and got off for a rest in the shade of an elder. I took two apples out of the basket and handed one to him, and sat down on a big log to eat.

“Well, is Sue always that friendly?” I blurted.

“Well, only when she’s in the mood,” he said, sitting down beside me. “But she sure was going for it last night, wasn’t she?”

I nodded. “I don’t think Ross even knew what was happening when she started to _ you know, use her mouth.”

“Oh, I suppose not. I didn’t either, the first time it happened to me. But she sure knows how, huh? You should read the stories she writes. Do you have an e-mail address?”

Reddening, I jumped up, smoothed my dress and walked off a few steps. This man was still basically a stranger, and here he was offering to send me, I presumed, filthy smut. When I looked back, Pete was still sitting on the log, an apologetic grin on his face. I hopped up to a low, stout branch and sat there, swinging my legs. “Well, don’t you think she should be sorry for committing adultery?” I asked him gravely.

Pete scratched his head. “I guess not,” he said with a smile. He got up and ambled in my direction. “I don’t think so. She knows what she likes, and she goes after it. Don’t you?”

Pete rested his forearms on my legs. “Well,” I replied slowly. His eyes were at the level of my belly button. Suddenly I recognized the warm feeling down there that I’d been getting the night before. I brusquely told it to go away, closing my eyes to concentrate on shutting it off.

Pete’s mustache tickled first one thigh, then the other. How had my dress gotten hitched up so high? I turned red, but he didn’t notice-he was staring straight ahead, at my belly. It was moving quickly in and out. I realized suddenly that I was breathing quite fast.

I don’t know when Pete’s tongue came into the picture. All I knew was that my inner thighs felt wonderful, then strong fingertips were unsnapping the crotch of my one-piece, and then my clitoris was telling me things I had never thought possible. I know I was moaning; I don’t know if it was audible from the road nearby. I draped my thighs over his shoulders and clamped his head between them. It felt so good-too good, it occurred to me, and I should be telling him to stop, but it was too late. His warm breath ruffled my curly blond hair. A hand reached up-his or mine? -- and eased my shoulder straps off my arms, and my heavy breasts were swinging free. Pete’s hand kneaded one and mine took the other. My nipples were hard as little corks.

I stiffened when I felt what had to be an orgasm coming on. It had been so long, I wasn’t sure, but very quickly I knew. I think I screamed when I came, or maybe it was the squeal of someone’s brakes from the road. I drove my bush into his mouth over and over, wanting his tongue deeper inside me, convulsed with heat. It was a miracle I didn’t drop backwards off my branch.

After a minute, Pete helped me to the ground. Shaking, I glanced at my watch: way too late for the church service. I lifted the hem of my skirt to dry Pete’s face. “Well, maybe I wasn’t meant to worship today,” I said sheepishly. “Well, I may have just worshipped enough for us both,” he replied, smiling. I was red again: from embarrassment or from the exertion?

I snapped my bathing suit together again and we took a dip. Afterwards we washed off the salt in the little stream and dozed off on the grass for a while. When I awoke it was late afternoon again. We mounted our bikes and headed back to the Wellses’ house.

My legs were still weak when we got back, whether from the bicycling or the orgasm or the swimming, I couldn’t tell. At the top of the stairs, Pete kissed me lightly and started back down toward his room, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. Muffled sounds were coming from inside Ross’s room, and I was curious. I turned the knob and peered inside. I immediately took a step backwards and bumped right into Pete.

Sue was on her back on the bed, naked. Her hips were in the air, her legs locked around Ross’s waist. He was standing at the foot of the bed in his flip-flops and nothing else, with his eyes closed, holding her round bottom in his big hands, pumping into her lithe body and staring down at her with that look of bewildered fascination. Sue’s head was thrown back and she was moaning.

Ross looked up and watched us come in and close the door. He smiled uncertainly at me, then he looked back at Sue as he twisted his hips into her. She grinned as her eyes met Pete’s. “I’ve been coming so much, honey,” she breathed. “Look at the way he fucks me.” She was clearly on her way to another orgasm right now, if the noise she was making was any guide.

I could tell Pete thought the same thing I did. I could feel him hardening against the small of my back as he watched his friend mating with my husband’s handsome assistant.