Chapter 1

On the third Sunday in September, outside Los Angeles in the hills of Sherman Oaks, two beautiful wives in their late twenties lounged by an Olympic-sized swimming pool. They were at Jan Marshall's home and Sandy Carter lived next door.

"It's as hot as a day in July," said Jan, who swept locks of her luxurious auburn hair from her face and tucked them behind her right ear. "Hand me the sun block. I need more protection."

"Here you go," said Sandy, who, if her legs weren't the best feature of her body, her hair was. Both of her parents and grandparents were blond; the combination of genes and exposure to the strong sun had kissed Sandy's hair to almost whiteness. Her blue eyes, white hair and bronze tan twisted heads. "What should we fix the guys for dinner?"

" After the game's over, let's get them to toss some steaks on the grill, We'll whip up a salad, and I have plenty of fresh asparagus. I'll do Hollandaise sauce."

"No you won't. I've tried to teach you, but it must be continually stirred. You foul it up every time, I'll do it, and I have some fresh corn. What time is it?"

"Getting hungry? The game won't be over for a half-hour or so. I agree your Hollandaise is better than mine, but my spaghetti sauce beats yours by ten miles."

"Maybe two miles. No, one mile at the most. How come you haven't shared your recipe?" asked Sandy, as she reached behind her for the sunblock.

When Sandy turned her head and looked away, Jan stuck out her tongue at Sandy and, with her thumbs in her ears wiggled her fingers. Sweetly, she said, "As for the recipe, we need some mystery in our mundane lives. I'm a little hungry too, but those guys would rather watch football than eat. This sun is so delicious. I'll feast on it."

"We're two lucky women. We have it made."

"Yeah, but our lives are about as exciting as folding laundry. We shouldn't complain though. Think how many women have to work to keep the bills paid."

"That's why we married rich, handsome husbands. But you're right. Our only responsibility is to keep ourselves pampered and trim so we can make a good impression socially."

"Rodeo Drive would go broke without us. We're stimulating the economy."

"A lot of the new fall line is so risqué. You have to be daring to wear some of those outfits."

"They're for show-offs. Prim and proper suits us fine."

"Right, I bought some things that I thought were okay, but they aren't. Should have returned them, but I never got around to it."

"Hand me the sun screen. I'm going to undo my straps. We have to keep our skin evenly tanned."

"What shall we do tomorrow?"

"Same ol', same ol', I guess. Hit the shops and maybe have lunch at the club."

Inside, Stan Marshall and Bob Carter sat watching the Dolphins play the Forty-Niners.

"Touchdown! San Fran's the greatest."

"They're good, but not the greatest. The Dolphins will ice it. Trust me."

"Sure, sure. And Mickey Mouse will be our next president."

"He can't run for a third term."

After the extra point, the commercials blared forth, and Stan (the 49'ers backer) glanced out the sliding glass door that separated the family room from the pool deck. "Take a peek at our wives, Bob, they're two foxy gals. Jesus, they've both undone the straps of their suit tops and a lot of their boobs are showing. It's too bad they won't wear bikinis or at least two-piece suit."

Bob took another swig of Heineken and twisted his head around to see the two wives propped up on deck lounges just beyond the glass doors. "Holy shit. You're right. It's lucky Sandy has full breasts and great nipples or her top would be in her lap."

"Great nipples you say. Well, they wouldn't be nicer than Jan's. Hers stick out like railroad spikes when she's turned on."

"Sure, Jan has a dynamite body, but Sandy has her beat in the legs department."

"Maybe a bit but Jan's ass is cuter and I'll bet her boobs are nicer than Sandy's. Jan's breasts are as firm and silky as any Playboy's centerfold. "

"So are Sandy's but you should see her pussy. Little blonde curls to match her gorgeous hair."

"So, big deal. Jan's a true redhead. Everywhere. Overall, my Jan has the best body by far."

"You wish."

Stan squirmed in his chair and said, "This kind of talk is making me horny. I'm going to grab another beer before the kickoff. Want one?"

"Yeah," said Bob, before he drained his Heineken, "and you say Jan's pussy is really red?"

"More auburn actually. Prettiest thing you ever saw."

"Yeah, but I still bet Sandy's the greatest, all things considered. Her eyes are a darker blue. Her lips are fuller, softer and more sensuous than Jan's. They suck a cock like you wouldn't believe."

"She sucks your cock? I figured she'd be too prudish for that. But wait a minute, how can you compare, since you haven't really kissed Jan? Or are you trying to tell me something?"

"Hell no. I've never hit on Jan. Especially since Sandy's so gorgeous. But I'll confess to having a few evil little thoughts about Jan."

"You asshole," said Stan, as he handed Bob a fresh beer, "but it does prove Jan's the most desirable."

"So, you've never letched about Sandy?"

Stan grinned and said, "Of course not. Hey look at the kickoff. It's high and short. This ploy could be big trouble. Why would San Fran do that?"

A Dolphin up front handled the reception with ease and returned it to the 42-yard line.

A few plays later Stan said, "Yeah, I'll confess."

"Confess what?"

"I've fantasized a couple of times about Sandy. I can see she has a great bod and I have compared it with Jan's."

"Look, we've been buddies a long time. I wouldn't be upset if you had a peek at Sandy nude. It's the only way to settle this. Let you eat your heart out. Would you be upset if I spied Jan?"

"Hell no. You'll be the one drooling over my Jan."

"This is exciting. I'm half-hard just thinking about it. We've both been married almost eight years and it's time we did something fun and basically innocent."

"I buy it, but I don't think the girls will go along. Sandy and Jan are both pretty straight-laced. At least Jan is."

" Sandy would cut me off for a month, if I even hinted about her stripping down in front of you."

"Jan would be pissed too, but hey, we're both successful guys. Solutions to problems are our forte."

"We haven't been watching the game. The Dolphins are in field goal range."

"Fuck the game. Let's think of a plan."

"If I think much more about it, my half-hard will grow up and rip a hole in my jeans."

"Cool it and think dispassionately. Hard-ons can come later."

"Maybe if we got them both drunk and dared them."

"No, not good enough. But you're on the right track. How about booze and pot."

"We gave that up after college and Sandy would be mighty suspicious about me suggesting it."

"Can you cook?"

"Cook what?"

"Cookies."

"I get your drift and it can't be that tough. They even come in refrigerated rolls at the supermarket, and you just heat them up. But where do we get the pot?"

Stan grinned. "I still have a stash. It may have passed its expiration date, but it was panty-dropping stuff a few years ago. I've kept it sealed in one of those zip-up plastic bags. It's worth a try."

"Great, but if they get stoned then what. Strip poker?"

"Maybe, if we play it right. Both girls are pretty competitive. If we both brag about how great each of our wives bodies are, they might get into the spirit of competing by comparing."

"It's possible, but we need to buy the cookies. Let's slip out to the store. This is exciting!"

They both checked to see the wives had turned on their tummies and lowered their tops even farther, showing a slight bulge of breasts beneath their folded arms.

They sneaked out the front door, hopped in Stan's Mercedes convertible and zoomed down to the super market. They returned in less than 15 minutes with a cold tube of chocolate chip cookies. Like two school kids preparing for their first dates, they meticulously sprinkled pot on most of the small round cookies. They left a few "undoctored" to put on the bottom of the plate where they could sneak them out and not get high themselves. An argument arose as whether to zap the cookies in the microwave or use the oven. The oven won when Bob pointed out the leaves of pot would brown and blend in better if baked. After setting the heat to 350 degrees, they grinned like little imps and returned to the TV.

They plopped down in the two grey Lazy-Boys and noted the two-minute warning had begun. The score was tied at 24 each but the Forty-Niners were now in field goal range. Stan gloated. Bob scowled.

With twenty seconds left San Fran kicked the winning three points. As if on cue, the two young wives pushed open the sliding glass door and walked into the air-conditioned family room. The girls had covered up with two sheer beach robes and both guys stared through the flimsy material to see bumps of nipples aroused by the coolness of the room. Both men swallowed hard.

"How did the game turn out?" asked Sandy.

Stan clenched his fist and punched the air. "My boys stuck it to 'em."

"Stuck it to whom?" asked Jan.

"That's my little football fan. She didn't even know who was playing."

Jan stuck out her tongue at Stan, and said, "What's that I smell?"

Bob said, "Just a little treat for you beautiful women."

They grinned and Sandy said, "How sweet. Miracles do happen. C'mon Jan let's go grab a shower."

After they left, Stan said, "We need to fix some dynamite drinks. Something potent but sneaky."

"Yeah, vodka and grapefruit plus some cranberry juice will mask the booze. Do you have any grape juice?"

"I think there's some in the pantry. Isn't that the concoction we used to call Purple Passion?"

"You got it! They taste sorta like grape Popsicles. Let's mix 'em right now and add the ice later so they won't know how potent they are."

"How are the cookies coming?"

Stan cracked the oven door. "Almost done."

Sandy and Jan came back in wearing baggy Bermuda shorts and loose fitting blouses buttoned high at the neck.

Bob quickly dropped ice cubes into the girls' drinks, while Stan used a mitten to haul out the pan of cookies. He snuggled the virgin cookies to the bottom of a plate and piled the high-test cookies on top. "Come and get 'em ladies."

"Great. Swimming makes me hungry," said Jan.

"Me too," chimed in Sandy, "It's hot out there."

The girls ate cookies and chugged most of their drinks.

The guys sipped their mild drinks and nibbled along on plain cookies. "You gals ears should have been burning," started Stan.

"Yeah," Bob continued, "even during the football game we discussed how lucky we were to have such beautiful wives."

The girls looked at each other, lifted their chins a trifle and struck a little pose, as if to say "of course."

Bob took Sandy's almost empty glass and, as he walked over to the wet bar, he said, "However, both of you could enhance your looks if you weren't so uptight."

"First a compliment and then a put down," giggled Sandy.

"Well," said Bob, "I told Stan that you two could be drop dead gorgeous if you'd exhibit your assets more. Show a little more skin."

"You mean low cut I'll bet," said Sandy, "I know you're a tit man."

Bob grinned. He knew the drinks and pot were getting to Sandy for her to say 'tit'.

Jan's speech slurred slightly as she said, "So you guys want us to be little sluts?"

"Have another cookie," said Stan.

"Okay, I seem to have the munchies."

"Me too," said Sandy.

"Not really slutty," said Bob, "you both have great figures even though I think Sandy's is better."

"You're crazy," said Stan. "Sure, Sandy's is fantastic, but my Jan would win the blue ribbon in a contest."

"If there were a contest, I'd say Jan's the cutest," mumbled Sandy.

"That's sweet, darlin'," said Jan, "but I'd vote a tie."

"Listen to this, Bob," said Stan, "Jan bought a couple of subtly sexy cocktail dresses and she won't even wear them."

"They didn't seem so dar-r-ing at the store," said Jan with a bit more slur to her voice.

"Try one on and let us judge," said Bob.

Sandy looked at her husband and widened her eyes. "So you want to see Jan in somethin' sexy. Is that it?"

Jan said, "He's a letch, just like Stan," and she began to giggle.

"I've got it," said Stan. "Jan models one dress and Sandy the other."

"Why not," said Jan. "We're the same size. Let's model for these perverts."

"Right on," said Sandy, "and they can vote on who's the sexiest."

"What's the prize?"

"We'll think of something."

When they stood up, both girls weaved a bit. "Wow, those drinks hit home.

Empty stomach I guess. Grab some more cookies, Sandy."

When the ladies left, both guys gave high fives, and Bob said, "They're hooked. They'll both be vying to win."

In the bedroom Jan said, "God, I hope I can find those dresses. I'm feeling woozy."

Sandy had trouble unbuttoning her blouse, but finally struggled it off and had to sit down a moment before removing her Bermudas.

Jan held up two dresses and said, "Take your pick."

"You decide."

"Okay, here's the dark blue one. It'll match your eyes better."

Sandy stepped into the dress, pulled it up and turned to look in the mirror. "Shit! Oops, pardon the language, but my bra shows up over the bodice. Have a half-bra?"

"Yep, it's a 36 C. That's your size isn't it? But I only have one and seldom wear it. I guess now's the time. Try taking your bra off and see how the dress looks."

Sandy lowered the dress and unhooked her bra. When it fell Jan puckered and tried to whistle, but couldn't manage one. So she said, "Great tits. Your nipples point out like they're asking to be kissed. God, err, that didn't come out right. Sorry."

"No sweat. I'm flattered. But I don't ever go braless."

With the dress zipped, Sandy surveyed herself in the mirror. The vee shaped neckline showed a great deal of cleavage and the two front panels weren't joined together so that if she bent over slightly one breast showed all the way to her nipple. It also gapped open if she turned to either side very quickly. "I don't think I should wear this without a bra. Look what happens."

"Don't bend over and it'll be all right. The hem's a bit low to show off those neat legs of yours. I'd pin it up if we had the time."

Jan's white dress came to her neck in front but was cut out on the sides beneath her arms to show the naked sides of her breasts and the satiny material was thin enough that her nipples were clearly outlined. She dropped the top and put on her half-bra. It looked strange from the rear since the back of the dress was open down to her buttocks and the bra strap was visible. Her panties also showed in the back, above the low cut of the dress. She slipped off her panties. What the heck, she didn't have any bikini panties. She checked in the mirror to make sure the dress material was opaque enough to hide her pubic hair. The light in the room was fairly dim, the sun had set and her eyes were a bit glassy, but the material seemed to hide her well enough.

They rouged, powdered, laughed a lot and applied bright red lipstick. Picking out the right high heels took some time and when Sandy leaned way over to try on different ones her boob popped out. Got to be careful about that, she thought.

When dressed, Sandy looked so enticing thought Jan. Sexier than she did. "Go on out I'll be right there."

Sandy replied, "I want to check out the shoes in your closet again. These heels don't walk right."

When Sandy left, Jan unhooked her bra and slipped it off. She's not going to steal the show, by God.

The girls hooked arms and made their grand, albeit unsteady, entrance.

The guys looked at each other and nodded, let out some low whistles and handed their wives fresh drinks. "Strut for us and walk like runway models, show off what you've got" said Bob.

Jan hesitated, but then lifted her head, squared her shoulders back and swayed her hips while walking to the center of the room where she stopped and did a slightly clumsy pirouette. Her nipples were clearly outlined through the white dress and in the brighter lights of the playroom, her triangle of auburn pussy hair hinted its way through the thinness of the material. As she strutted before the men her nipples began to extend and form small tepees. She's really turned on by this, thought Stan, and his cock began to say hello. Stan picked up on the admiring grin Bob had plastered all over his face. He's lusting for my wife. It made him proud, uneasy and thrilled.

Sandy began to seethe in her rather foggy mind. That bitch Jan, she thought. No panties and she took off her bra. Those guys are seeing everything she's got. She felt a small trickle of lubrication ooze from her pussy as she stepped back into the hallway, set her drink on the floor and slipped off her own panties. She tossed the panties into the darkness of a spare bedroom.

Jan still flaunted her goodies and teased brazenly. Sucking on her finger while slowly slipping it in and out of her mouth. Turning her back to the guys, leaning over and wiggling her ass. She sidled to her husband and pulled up her dress to mid-thigh so she could straddle his legs and do a squirmy lap dance. When Stan looked down, her dress had ridden farther up, and when she squirmed just right he caught glimpses of wispy pubic hair. He turned to see if Bob had the same view. Bob tried to rubberneck himself a peek, but didn't have the angle. Jan had balance problems in disengaging from Stan's lap, and had to lift a leg so high that Bob got a flash of her naked pussy. She recovered awkwardly and then gave a little curtsy, breathing heavily from her performance. With each intake of breath, her pink tepees did their best to poke holes through the thin material of the white dress.