Chapter 1

Fred Morgan stepped into the bedroom from the master bath. It was six in the morning. He dressed in the early morning light, not bothering to turn on the lamp. He stepped into his khaki slacks and put on a plaid shirt. In the old days it would be suits and ties, but modern times were different. It was his busy time of the year. His fold-over valise was already packed, along with a small suitcase. In some ways, it was just like a morning in one of the many hotels he stayed at when he was on the road.

He had completed the northern and eastern half of his territory the prior day. He stopped at home at the midway point before taking on the western and southern swing. It would take him a week and a few days. He didn't even take the samples out of the minivan. After a quick bowl of Raisin Bran in the kitchen, he would be on the Interstate, en route to Rochester, his first stop.

One thing that was different from the nameless motel rooms was that his wife, Maggie, lay in their bed watching him as he dressed. Since they were married he always tried to schedule a day home at the half-way point. He could have rerouted himself more efficiently if he avoided the home stop, but he wouldn't consider it. This time it had only been a night. There were numerous construction delays on the Interstate—par for the course in an election year. He dragged himself in at eight-thirty in the evening, but it was still worth it.

Fred glanced at Maggie's reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair and took pleasure in what he saw. He knew she was nude under the sheets. She had that satisfied woman look and it was well that she should wear it. As Fred came through the door at eight-thirty she met him in her—or his—favorite negligee. By eight forty-five it had been cast aside. They never fell asleep until eleven thirty. There is a certain pleasing, serene expression a woman wears the morning after a fulfilling night.

"Do you have a shift at the hospital tonight?" he called to her.

"Yes, I picked up some extra hours since you're going to be away." Maggie was a nurse on the post-op floor of the local university hospital. "Where will you stay tonight?"

"Rochester for two days, then Erie," he recited. "I'll drive to Cleveland and then down to Columbus and then on to Indianapolis. Two days there. Then, I'll swing south and pick up Kentucky, Cincinnati and West Virginia. Pittsburgh and Harrisburg are next; a quick stop in Ithaca and then back home."

She had met him at the door when he arrived for his home visit in the red baby-doll package that he had given her as an engagement present. Few fifty-two year-old women could, or would, wear the outfit. Maggie looked great in it. She had that long, sleek greyhound kind of body that looked like the nightie had been designed just for her. The color was perfect to go with her white skin and jet black hair that she kept at shoulder level. Fred wasn't quite used to her slender figure yet, which was not a bad thing. They had been married just over three years. It was the second chance for them both. A man should try not to get used to such things.

"I forgot to tell you. The Martins had to cancel out on the cabin," she announced. "Something about an out-of-town wedding in the family the same week."

It was a disappointment. They enjoyed vacationing with the Martins for a week each summer. This year they had rented a cabin on Raquette Lake in the Adirondacks. It was a big cabin for two couples, and golf-course privileges went with it. There was a dock for Fred's Boat and it was in a semi-private cove. Besides sharing the expenses, the Martins had proven to be good at sharing good times.

"Can you see if you can get someone to fill in for them on short notice? We're supposed to leave for the cabin the day after I get finished with this road trip. There's no way that I can do this from out of town."

"I'll try, but you know that my circle of friends is quite different from yours."

"I'm sure that whoever you find will be just fine. At this point we just have to move fast." Fred conceded.

He moved over to the bed where Maggie had peeled down the sheets to reveal her two small breasts with the hard, dark nipples. Fred bent down to kiss them in turn. Although they were small, Fred always paid great attention to them. He found that his pleasure came not from their size or shape, but her reaction to his attending them. True to form, she made soft purring sounds as his lips gave each a quick caress.

"Take good care of these, and I'll be back in no time," he said. They kissed on the lips and then he rose off the bed to pick up his luggage. "Keep me posted on finding someone to take the Martins' place," he called over his shoulder as he left.

Maggie's shift didn't start until six that evening, so she had the whole day free. She called her best friend, Pat Wilson, who lived about five miles away and drove over for coffee.

Pat was about the same age as Maggie. She taught high-school English, so she was off for the summer. While Maggie was tall and slender, Pat was her opposite. She was shorter at five-two and had sandy colored wavy hair that she wore down to between her shoulder blades. Though she wasn't tall, Pat's frame sported generous curves. She worked hard to keep them from sagging and to stay slender. She had well-developed breasts beneath a round, dimpled face. Her hips flared out, completing the hourglass figure. She had a vivacious personality, compared with Maggie's reserve. They were opposites in a number of ways, a possible reason that they were such good friends.

"Pat, I have something to ask you." Maggie said as they sat at Pat's kitchen table. "We have a cabin rented for the week after next on Raquette Lake. The couple that we usually go with can't make it. It's a wonderful cabin—complete with electricity, hot water and indoor plumbing. How would you and Charlie like to join us?"

Pat and Maggie met in a support group that they joined while they went through their respective divorces. They found an easy chemistry between them and formed a strong friendship. Even when they started dating again they remained close. They shared everything from recipes to shopping for clothes and home furnishings. They told each other the intimate details of the time spent with their then-lovers, soon-to-be new husbands. They even compared notes on how their men pleased them and the techniques they used to respond. It was while sharing these intimate details that they deduced that each woman's lover was their own former husband.

"That sounds risky—but delicious!" an aroused Pat exclaimed. "Have you broached it with Fred?"

"Not yet," answered Maggie. "I wanted to ask you first. No point in my setting off an earthquake if you can't go."

"There will be a big earthquake when he finds out. I know my ex-husband. You'll have a lot of convincing to do," laughed Pat. "He won't want any part of it!"

"He said that he would go along with whomever I could find," Maggie retorted.

"I don't think that he ever imagined..." Pat countered.

"What about Charlie?" Maggie asked. "He's not as stubborn as Fred, but he won't jump at it either."

"I can handle Charlie," Pat declared. "Fred is the stumbling block."

"You're right," Maggie agreed. "Maybe we'll have to wait until next year. This is a lot to ask Fred to accept without any warning. We've never even been out as couples. Maybe we should try dinner or something first."

"These men of ours are so immature!" declared Pat.

"Well, they're just men!" answered Maggie. "We can't live with them, and we can't live without them!"

"You did say indoor plumbing, didn't you?" asked Pat, covering her bases.

"Including a shower," Maggie assured.

"It's such an opportunity." Pat argued. "It would be a shame to let it go by. I'll bet that Fred would accept it once his bluster wears off. Why don't you give it a try?"

"All right, I'll try," Maggie promised. "It looks like I'll have to break out my red baby-dolls again."

The two women had a good laugh. Although it was humorous, they both knew that Maggie's tactics would be put into action when Fred returned. As for Pat, she had an emerald green number that she would use to convince Charlie.

"It will be worth it," Maggie said. "We've wanted to socialize as couples for a long time, but didn't dare bring it up. Now we'll break the ice in a big way. These husbands of ours will just have to get over their hang-ups."

"You've got that right!" Pat agreed. "I don't think that any of us have serious hard feelings left over from the divorces. We have to help them get over it. It's our duty; we owe it to them."

"The cabin is way up on the northwest corner of Raquette Lake," Maggie added. "It couldn't be more secluded. It's a half hour trek in the Land Rover from Route 28 over a dirt road."

"That will put us all in close quarters whether we like it or not," Pat agreed.

"One thing that comes to mind," Pat continued, "what with being in swimsuits all the time and having some history with the other spouse..." she hesitated.

"I know what you mean!" Pat giggled. "Our boys might get some ideas of having one 'for old times' sake."

"Well, it is a risk," Maggie warned.

"We'll just have to keep them occupied so they don't get any big ideas." Pat said with a grin. "Just don't let Fred wear his Speedos, because I'm taking my bikini. That would be embarrassing!"

"I need to go shopping for a new bathing suit. Mine are faded from chlorine at the pool," Maggie said. "Why don't we go shopping tomorrow?"

The two women broke out laughing at the thought of Fred 'bulging' out of his skimpy trunks. They had convinced each other that the trip was a good idea. They spent the rest of the morning searching the internet for places near Raquette Lake where they could eat and shop while the men played golf or went fishing.

"My red baby-dolls have more modesty than this one!" declared Maggie, as she held up a series of small fabric triangles held together by string. She flung the bikini back on the shelf. It was their third store and so far rejects far outnumbered possibilities. Pat was having a similar lack of success.