Chapter 2

"I don't mind telling you—this gives me the creeps!" Maggie told Pat as she shed her panties and took her position lying on the guestroom bed. Pat knelt beside her with a razor in her hand and a can of shaving cream in the other. A towel and washcloth sat on the floor alongside a wash basin full of water. Pat was bare below the waist, having just received the same treatment as she was about to render to her friend.

"I don't know why." Pat answered calmly as she carefully worked the razor. "You just did me."

"That was different," Maggie asserted. "I'm a nurse. I do that kind of thing all the time."

As she patiently worked Pat stretched the skin of Maggie's vulva this way and that to make the coarse hairs stand at attention and ready for shearing off. As Pat's fingers delicately touched her, she saw Maggie bite her lip to avoid showing a reaction to her touch.

"Spread your legs a little more so that I can get at this last part better," Pat instructed. She noticed that Maggie's eyes were closed and her breathing was regulated in an unnatural way, as if she was struggling to hold back her urge to pant. Pat pressed the top of Maggie's slit lightly.

"What do you do to relieve yourself when Fred is out on the road?" Pat asked in a casual way.

"What do you mean?" Maggie asked after a pause, feigning naiveté.

"You know what I mean!" Pat scolded in a mild way. "I always had a little implement or two when Fred and I were married. Those road trips of his can be long and lonely."

"I just save it up and jump him when he comes home," Maggie confessed.

"You poor neglected thing!" Pat exclaimed. "You're thinking about it right now, aren't you?" she asked in a softer voice. It was more of a statement posed as a question. She continued to work the razor and gently pressed that special spot again."

"I'm... Ohhhh... trying... Ahhhh... not... to think of it," Maggie panted.

"Well, I know that you're about to climax." Pat said as she stroked her thumb up and down the sides of Maggie's labia inspecting her handiwork with the razor. "Why don't you go ahead and do it?—it's been so long for you," Pat urged as she added the thumb of her other hand to the gentle stroking under the guise of checking her work.

"I... can't! I shouldn't!" Maggie panted.

"I'll do myself at the same time. That'll make it easier," Pat soothed. She guided Maggie's hand to her labia. "I'm doing it to myself right now," Pat assured her.

Pat watched as Maggie finished herself off. It didn't take long. Maggie tensed her muscles and held her breath. Her orgasm took about five seconds. After it passed she relaxed and slowly exhaled. She kept her eyes closed all the while.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Pat asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." Maggie admitted. "But I shouldn't have done it. Please don't ever tell anyone about this."

"We're friends. We can have some secrets," Pat assured her. "Have you ever done it with women?"

"No. I thought about it in college once," Maggie confessed. "Some girls in the dorm were doing it to each other every night and invited me to join in. While I was mulling it over they were found out by the dorm advisor out and the whole thing broke up. I never considered it again. What about you?"

"No, it never came up before. I've just read about it in a few erotic stories that I came across. It's only a fantasy, but it can get me excited!"

Each woman carefully cast furtive glances at the other in silence, waiting for the heavy question to fall from one of their lips to their ears. Pat broke the spell.

"Hair and horns both trimmed!" she happily sang out.

"Let me have that aloe lotion that I brought from the hospital. You should use some, too. It will help take away razor-burn," Maggie advised.

Thus, the burning question was quenched for the time being.

The two women put their bikinis on to test the shaving they had just been performed on each other. As they inspected themselves in the mirror, they judged their mission accomplished. Pat had put a pot of coffee on earlier. They kept wearing their bikinis at the kitchen table as they drank their coffee.

"We should get used to wearing them so that we look comfortable at the lake when we put them on," Pat declared. "We could go out on the patio to get some sun, but I have too many neighbors with teen-aged boys who can see across the hedge in the back yard."

"It would be nice to get some sun in advance of the trip to the lake," Maggie sighed

"Yes," Pat agreed, "and I wouldn't mind giving a few of those young studs a hard-on while they peered at us over the fence, too. The problem is, I might have some of them in class this fall."

"Have you told Charlie yet?" Maggie asked as they sipped her coffee.

"Tonight's the night," answered Pat. "I don't expect a big problem. He'll complain at first, but in the end he'll think if it as a big adventure."

"He's a teenager at heart," Maggie acknowledged. "I can attest to that from experience."

"It's partly that," Pat instructed. "Some of it is that Charlie is cooped up in that accounting office all the time. People expect him to act in a staid, conservative way—and he does. When he gets some time off, he wants some excitement."

"I never thought of it that way," Maggie admitted. "In all the years we were married I thought that he was a big kid."

"Don't feel bad," Pat said. "It's live and learn."

"It's something like that in reverse for Fred," Maggie continued. "When he's on the road as a salesman it's always go-go-go; open bars and dinners at restaurants. When he's home he wants a change of pace. He told me that you thought that he was a stick in the mud."

"True enough!" Pat agreed. "Anyway, I like the way it is now." The two clinked coffee cups to toast the revealed wisdom.

"You haven't told Fred yet, have you?" asked Pat changing, the subject.

"No, I'm going to wait until he gets home and tell him in person, I think it will be better that way. I don't want to give him a lot of time to think about it. He'll come in Friday night. We'll be on our way on Saturday morning. I'm going to spend Friday packing."

"Not giving him a chance to say 'No'?"

"That's about the size of it," Maggie confessed.

"Tell him that I'll be on my best behavior," Pat joked.

"I'm not worried about that," Maggie said. "I am wondering about something else, though." Pat raised her eyebrows, waiting for more. Maggie continued. "It's just that I'm uneasy about how the men will react in the situation where we're living in the same cabin. It won't be easy for them to see their former wives in these new skimpy bathing suits and for them to be aware of us sleeping in adjoining bedrooms with new mates. It's easier for us women to put these things aside than men."

"And just what do you think their reaction will be?" Pat asked

"I think they'll become jealous!" Maggie answered emphatically.

Pat set down her coffee cup and leaned sideways, closer to her friend.

"What do jealous men do?" Maggie shook her head silently. "They become competitive, that's what! They'll both give their all to show everyone— including themselves—that they are the best swordsman on the planet. So, I wouldn't plan on getting much sleep, if you know what I mean."

"Do you really think it will happen that way?" asked Maggie.

"They won't be able to help themselves—they are men," Pat insisted.

"That sounds interesting," laughed Maggie.

"It's more than interesting—it's positively delicious," Pat blurted out, her excitement growing. "It's all that I've been able to think of since we planned the trip. It's probably the reason that I got carried away a little bit while I was shaving you."

"I plan to give Fred every opportunity to prove himself," giggled Maggie.

"That's the spirit, girl," declared Pat. "Those new bathing suits won't hurt our chances, so don't hesitate to let it all hang out. There's no point in being subtle or shy. Once the ball gets rolling, there will be no stopping it." She peered at her friend to be sure that she understood her meaning. "I just love it when men let themselves go back to being cavemen! Their animal instincts are the best ones that they've got," she added as she stretched herself from fingers to toes like a lioness.

The two women paused for a second, looking at each other with wide eyes and unabashed grins. They shared the enjoyment of the moment, the anticipation of the adventure. They were bonded in the conspiracy, looked forward to the action. It was all innocent enough on the surface—a plan for lovemaking with their spouses. Beneath it there was a thrill they did not quite understand. It was unconventional, perhaps a bit naughty. They sensed a power being unleashed that they were unsure they could control.

"What if the boys get so wound up that they want to... you know... for old times' sake?" Maggie couldn't quite get out the words.

"You mean swap?" laughed Pat. "Let them think that they are. That will just get them charged up even more."

"Things could really get out of control, Pat." Maggie was the sensible one.

"They won't," Pat assured, waving her hand. "But... ," she leaned close to Maggie and her voice turned to a husky whisper, "whatever happens... happens. We'll leave it at the lake. When we come home we won't talk about it or let it bother us. This is just for fun and nothing else."

Pat and Maggie looked at each other, forming a silent pact. Pat reached out and placed her hand atop Maggie's.

"We leave it at the lake!" Maggie repeated.

"I'm so glad that you're home. I've missed you!" cooed Maggie to her husband.

The room was dark, but Fred could see Maggie in the sparse light, or a shadowy, darkened version of her. They were both nude. He could feel her smooth, warm skin against his. Maggie had planned to greet him at the door in her red baby-doll nightie, but Fred arrived home an hour earlier than planned. Maggie had just stepped out of the shower when he came in. He had already dragged his bags into the kitchen when she came downstairs in her terrycloth bathrobe. That was enough for Fred. They would save the negligee for another time.

Fred lay on his back in their king-sized bed; Maggie was prone and lay between his knees.

"I missed you, too," Fred responded.

"Mmm, that's good!" Maggie purred. Maggie's face was posed inches over Fred's erection and her tongue snaked from between her lips and danced on the tip. Fred pressed hip hips up slightly, stretching the skin to bring the nerve endings closer to the surface and the warm, moist tongue. Maggie's arms were wrapped around his thighs.

Maggie retracted her tongue and bent her head lower. She clasped his mushroom head within her pliant lips and sucked it ever so gently. She tasted a droplet of fluid, as she knew she would, and nibbled a bit. She alternated between sucking and nibbling.

Her sensitive lips could feel Fred's pulse, and it was quickening. It was a good sign. She opened her mouth and dove downward, until his pulsing tip touched the back of her throat. She quickly bobbed back up. It was a teasing torture by interrupted pleasure. As Fred recovered from the near climax, his breath was ragged.

Fred had pulled into their driveway at eight. She led him up the stairs to the turned-down bed. Bathrobes and clothing were quickly stripped away. Time passed to nine thirty. Fred had been Maggie's 'project' for over an hour. She loved giving him head. For Maggie, fellatio was an art form. Fred knew it. His role was to lie patiently and graciously receive. She would take her pleasure from him later. For the moment, they would follow her prescription.

Maggie resumed her cycle of lick, suck, nibble and swallow. It was so predictable; yet, impossible to tire of it. When she thought the moment was right to grant his climax she would break the cycle, submerge even deeper and swallow him. She would gulp him until he released and poured himself into her eager throat. She would milk every drop. Maggie loved using her skills on him.

She wasn't sure how much longer she would continue. She knew when she tasted that first leakage he could be coaxed to climax in a short time with little effort. Then it would be her turn. There were other times when she could bring him to the brink of orgasm, just to back away at the last second. She would wait until his urge subsided. It would relieve the pressure to ejaculate. The pleasure cycle could continue much longer.

Maggie heard Fred's shallow panting. She could control it with her practiced maneuvers. She knew that he had lost himself—he was hers. She could treat him to instant ecstasy at the moment she would choose, or continue the sweet torture. He was her medium, the canvass that she brushed so delicately, the marble chiseled with such knowledge of the hardness and veins of the stone.

She dove down on him deeply—more than normal. His mushroom head popped into her throat. She knew that Fred sensed that culmination was near. She suddenly rose up. He popped out of her mouth. She crawled up several inches and encased his member in her breasts.

"I forgot to tell you," she spoke in a low voice. "I asked Pat and Charlie Wilson to share the cabin at Raquette Lake with us."

"Huh?" Fred grunted. "Are you kidding?"

Maggie went back to nibbling. "You said any couple I could find would be all right," she reminded him between quick bobs of her head.

"But Maggie..." he started to protest.

"Please say 'Yes'. You know that Pat and I are best friends." She bent back to her task, glad that he wasn't softening at the sudden bad news.

"If I say 'Yes' can we get back to what we were doing?" Fred pleaded.

Maggie answered by reapplying herself to the artwork in progress. It didn't take long to return to the magic place she had taken Fred. It was a pleasure to hear him cry out as he released himself into her eager throat.

In the aftermath she took her place lying beside him with her head on his shoulder. He was breathing returned to normal. Soon he would please her with his own tongue and lips.

"It was nice of you to agree to go with Pat and Charlie," she mewed as she played with his chest hair.

"Actually," he informed her, "Charlie called me this morning and told me. I've had since ten this morning to get used to the idea."