Warm naked female skin presses against my palms in the darkness. She kisses me again, and her breasts are smooth and soft and tender against my chest. I wonder who she is?

Earlier that night, five of us lounged around in the Allen sisters' livingroom. Pat and Julie Allen were there, of course, and me, and Rachel Kaplan and her lover Ariana. I hadn't caught Ariana's last name, probably because I was too distracted by her self. She is a medium-sized slender girl, with long red hair, clear pale skin, and an interesting scattering of freckles. Her eyes are large and green, her forehead high, her mouth wide and smiling. Ooops, did I say "girl"? I meant "woman", of course. She's nineteen or twenty, although with slim hips and small breasts; I'll bet with her hair in pigtails and the right clothes, she could pass for fourteen.

Watching Rachel and Ariana together was amazingly erotic; they were so obviously in love, so obviously fascinated by each other, so obviously hot for each other. Every so often as we all talked, they would suddenly catch each other's eyes, stop talking, just stare at each other for long entranced moments, or put their arms around each other and kiss, bodies pressed together on the couch, hands caressing each other through their clothes. We aren't a very inhibited bunch.

Pat slid off her chair and sat beside me on the rug. I put an arm around her, and we cuddled together. She could tell I was admiring Rachel and Ariana, and she grinned at me.

"What is it that men find so fascinating about women in love?" she asked, to me and to the room in general, as the pair moved apart again.

"Oh, I dunno," I answered lazily. "Women excited, turned on, full of desire, but no other men around to get in the way. Other men are always rivals, you know, and you wonder if their cock is bigger than yours, or if they can spit farther. Man things. So if I'm going to admire lovers, it's especially nice if they're both women." Ariana laughed. I ran my palm over Pat's shoulder, up to the base of her neck, and behind her head. I leaned forward, cupping her skull in my hand, and kissed her throat. She purred, and ran her fingers through my hair.

"What you really mean," suggested Julie from her chair, "is that when you see two women kissing, your mind immediately starts to construct a B-movie porn flick around them."

"Well, yeah," I admitted, lightly squeezing Pat's heavy round breasts through her shirt, and kissing her collarbones. "But I construct dirty movies around women in general; two women in love are just that much more attractive. What can I say? I'm an incorrigible bastard."

"Well, at least he's honest about it!" said Rachel from the couch. Her mouth was perfect and pink; for a moment I envied Ariana.

"That's why we love him," said Pat, and I kissed her lips, sinking my tongue into the sweetness of her mouth as she put her arms around me and moaned quietly. There seemed to be something hot and sexy in the air that night; the apartment began to smell of love and desire as we listened to jazz on the stereo, and the necking got more serious. Rachel and Ariana breathlessly excused themselves and went off to the guest room. Julie looked at her sister. "Pat," she said, "you had better take him to bed; I hate to see a man suffer so." Pat grinned and led me away.

She stood next to the bed, and I stripped her slowly and carefully, stopping frequently to kiss her mouth and her warm solid body. She smiled and stretched, standing with her arms over her head, as I ran my hands over her breasts and knelt to take off her jeans. "What is it in the air tonight?" she wondered, as I slid her panties down and nuzzled the soft fragrant hair between her thighs. "I feel so young and clean and sexy."

"It's Rachel and Ariana," I answered, sliding my hands back up her body, cupping her big firm naked breasts and kissing her ear, "they're like newlyweds."

She unbuttoned my shirt and kissed my nipples. "You want them, don't you?" she asked, undoing my pants. My cock sprang gratefully out. I stroked the top of Pat's head as she licked the sensitive underside of my shaft with her long blunt tongue.

"Ah," I gasped, "I want all of you, all four of you gorgeous sweet decadent women. But you'll do for now." And I hoisted her up and knocked her over onto the bed. She laughed and reached her arms out to me. I fell on top of her, between her legs, my body pressing her into the mattress, her tongue warm and probing in my mouth, her hands caressing my back and my ass.

"Do it to me slowly," she whispered, "slowly and hot and for hours." She closed her eyes and kissed me softly as I entered her. We fit together as beautifully as ever, her moist dark female depths swallowing and squeezing the throbbing hardness of my cock. I penetrated her and fucked her slowly and lovingly, and she rocked her hips and her fingers tightened and loosened on my sides. I kissed her face and her eyelids as our bodies moved together. She licked my chest and sucked on my nipples, and currents of pleasure flowed from her mouth, through my chest, out my cock and into her smooth wet pussy. We both struggled not to lose ourselves, not to give in to the urgency building in our bodies, not to let it end too soon in quick raw animal sex.