Chapter 4: Hanky Panky

RIA

When I was a teenager, I spent practically every other night sleeping over at my friend Lois's house. We'd stay up as late as we could, usually just gossiping about boys and rocking out to terrible pop songs.

But sometimes?

Sometimes we listened to her brother have sex.

Nate was five and a half years older than us, and for as long as I could remember he'd been the de facto babysitter for Lois and I whenever their parents were out for the night—which was often. He was friendly, and cute, and, unsurprisingly, my first real crush. Secretly, I spent my childhood thinking of Nate as my Prince Charming, even daydreaming about one day marrying the guy.

That all changed in high school.

Late one night, after Nate was certain that Lois and I had gone to sleep, he invited his slutty girlfriend over and they snuck upstairs into his bedroom. The noises I heard coming through that door were anything but princely.

Lois and I never actually saw what they were doing in there, but for a couple of sexually inexperienced girls, listening to Nate and his girlfriend go at it was just about the most exciting thing that had ever happened to us. And best of all, it was something that KEPT happening. Almost every time we were left home alone with Nate, he would wait until we were "asleep," and then make his booty call. Keeping perfectly quiet, Lois and I would tiptoe across the house, clapping our hands over our mouths to muffle the nervous giggles as we camped outside Nate's locked door and listened to every pornographic moan and groan.

Hearing Nate—the object of all my young fantasies—in bed with another girl drove me crazy with lust and jealousy, but so help me, I couldn't stop myself from spying on them.

When I finally moved away for college, I thought that would be the end of it. No more Nate, and no more having to listen in while the guy I liked had sex with someone else.

Or so I thought.

I met Rob on my first day of classes. He was like a real-life James Bond: suave, sexy, clever, and deliciously British. I'm not one of those idiot girls who just drops her panties at the first hint of a foreign accent, but on a gorgeous guy like Rob? That accent was fucking hot.

He approached me after class one day and asked, in that charming voice of his, "Hey Ria, you live over in East building, correct?"

My heart started happily pitter-pattering. He was interested in me!

"Yup," I answered. "Sure do!"

"So then, you know Carol Pressly?"

My pitter-patter petered out.

"Uh-huh. She's my roommate."

"Oh, outstanding! Is she single?"

Goddammit.

I spent the next several months trying—and failing—to sleep, whilst the sexy British boy I was crushing on spent every night fucking my roommate until two o'clock in the morning. I eventually got so stupidly horny, and so stupidly jealous, and so pathetically insecure about myself that I wound up applying for a "waitressing" job at the local Hooters just to help my self-esteem.

On the bright side, I met my BFF, Tracy.

On the down side, I must now forever live in mortal terror of the day when someone at my office somehow finds a photo of me, age 19, wearing that ridiculous fucking outfit and smiling like an oblivious dipshit cheerleader surrounded by a pack of perving middle-aged customers.

Sorry, got a bit off topic there.

The point is this: there have been a lot of times in my life when I've had to listen while a guy I really, really liked had sex with another woman. First Nate, then Rob, and then a few others after them.

But I never lusted after ANY of those guys the way I lusted after Connor. And never once, in all those years, did hearing those guys have sex frustrate me nearly so much as it did on that fateful night in the cabin—when Tracy and Connor, finally reunited, spent a BILLION. HOURS. FUCKING.

Damn those two sounded sexy. Grunting and groaning and moaning and screaming ... Belting out the word "Jesus!" more times than it appears in the entirety of the New Testament. Tracy and Connor powered through a marathon fuck-fest that lasted until the sun came up.

I was just about the horniest I'd ever been.

Not that Shane and I didn't have some fun of our own. We enjoyed a nice long shower together, first cleaning off the mess he'd made on my tits, and then escalating things until he'd made another (naughtier) mess, all over my face. When we returned to bed, Shane use his talented tongue to get me off four more times while we listened to our friends in the other room.

But I was insatiable.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Connor. I saw his big, yummy muscles, his adorable dimples, and his gorgeous cock—pistoning in and out of Tracy's body. Filling her, satisfying her ... Aargh! I was so jealous of that girl, it was driving me crazy.

But the worst part was knowing, deep down, that Connor wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. It wasn't just a physical attraction, and it wasn't just harmless flirting. I'd seen it in his eyes when Shane and I had accidentally stumbled in on them having sex. There was something there; a deep, unconsummated longing we both felt for one another. Connor had looked right at me the entire time we were watching them.

Lord knows it had taken all my willpower not to strip off my panties on the spot and straddle his face...

His perfectly-chiseled, handsome face. Super manly, and yet somehow still so boyishly cute. I closed my eyes again, and guiltily imagined that it was Connor's tongue lavishing pleasure upon my pussy, not my husband's.

Of course, considering the fact that Shane was no doubt at that moment fantasizing about eating Tracy out instead of me, the guilt was probably unwarranted.

Tracy...

Thinking of her made me wet, too. Now that she'd—now that I'd—now that we'd both experienced the joys of each other's company, I couldn't wait to try it again. I wasn't really into other women, but Tracy was special—so sexy and sensual; so loving, so sweet, so tender. And hot holy fuck were those big tits of hers fun to play with.

What were we getting ourselves into here? The four of us were rushing head-first down a path that both thrilled me and scared the shit out of me at the same time.

I looked down at Shane's head between my legs and whimpered, "Are you hard again, honey?"

"Oh yeah," he grinned.

"Then please—I need to feel you inside me."

He rolled me over so that I was lying face down on our soft warm bed, with my legs hanging off the edge and my butt pointing up in the air. The cotton sheets beneath me were damp with my own sweat, the air pungent with the perfume of my cunt.

I felt infuriatingly empty inside, desperate beyond reason to feel the satisfaction of a nice, hard, big, throbbing cock. Shane braced his hands atop the firm mounds of my ass, SQUEEZED, and finally—blissfully—slid himself inside.

Yessssss...

His wonderful penis filled me to the core.

"Ugh!" I heard Connor moaning through the wall. "Yeah!"

In the other room, Tracy and Connor's love-making began its crescendo. I could only imagine what they were doing, and how sexy it all must have looked. Why did there have to be this stupid wall between us? Why couldn't our friends be right here, with us, so I could watch them? I could look Connor in the eyes again, maybe even reach out and touch...

I clawed at the bedsheets as Shane bottomed-out inside of me, his pelvis pressing firmly against my butt—then he pulled out and thrust back in, stronger and stronger.

"Mmm!" Shane grunted.

"Yes!" Tracy shrieked.

"Fuck!" Connor shouted.

I scrunched shut my eyes and felt tears of pleasure streaming down my cheeks. It wasn't fair! I wanted them all—I needed them all! Shane, Tracy, Connor, all fucking me at once—

"Aah!" Connor roared, blowing his load inside my best friend. She screamed and screamed, shaking the rafters with a terrifyingly powerful orgasm of her own. I reached back between my legs and cupped my husband's balls in my hand, urgently squeezing them while he slid his erection in and out.

"Come with them!" I commanded. "Come in me! Fill me up!"

Shane's body gave a sudden jolt and he burst, cum gushing inside me like a river of molten lava. I saw stars. Felt a twisting wave of ecstasy clenching around my insides, rushing through me—too much pleasure to bear—

"Yes! Yes! Yes!!!"

I collapsed onto the damp sheets, limp as a noodle. My lungs ached. I was utterly, 100 percent spent for the night. Shane fell onto the bed and snuggled up to me, equally exhausted.

Fifteen minutes later, Connor and Tracy were at it again.

Shane just gave me a wry smile, and we both burst out laughing. We couldn't compete with them. Not tonight. Horny as we both were, our two friends were burning through an entire mountain of pent-up emotion. Months of separation, longing, confusion. The sobering realization of all the time they'd wasted with their stupid breakup.

Like I said, we couldn't compete. All we could do was lie there and listen to them screw for hours and hours. And damn if they didn't sound hot.

SHANE

I woke up really wanting to fuck. Yeah, I'd already come like four times the night before, but we all slept in until the early afternoon and I woke up feeling recharged and horny.

But alas, my gorgeous, naked wife was still lying unconscious on the bed. I glanced down at her slender body—the firm bubble of her ass, the gentle slope of her bare breasts, the rich bronze color of her skin—and felt an extra surge of blood pumping into my morning erection. Her legs were spread slightly apart, practically begging me to stick my mouth between them for a taste of her daintily-trimmed pussy.

But I'd tried waking her up with sex before on a couple occasions, and Ria wasn't a fan (apparently she can't "feel sexy" until she's finished her morning beauty routine). Instead, I delicately extricated myself from her snoozing embrace, slipped on a pair of boxer-briefs to protect my modesty, and tiptoed into the master bathroom.

I thought long and hard about filling up that whirlpool bathtub to give my exhausted muscles a soak, but expediency ultimately won the day. Instead, I walked over to the shower and quickly rinsed off the night's exertions. By the time I'd finished my own morning ritual, my teeth were clean and my raging hard-on had finally—mercifully—deflated. I was ready to get on with my day.

Until Tracy walked in.

"Morning!" she whispered, sidling up next to me at the sink and wetting her toothbrush.

I didn't answer. I was too busy admiring how effortlessly hot she looked, standing there wearing Connor's white cotton undershirt and nothing else. NOTHING. No bra, no pajamas, and—as I could plainly see when she leaned over the sink to spit out her mouthful of toothpaste—no underwear. Her shirt's hemline slid up all the way to her hips, and the soft bare cheeks of her ass greeted me like the morning sun.

That shirt, which had been designed to fit a tall, muscular man, was nevertheless stretched to its absolute limit around Tracy's enormous, juicy tits. The crisp morning chill had her thick pink nipples up at attention, and as she started brushing her teeth, the jerking motion sent her braless bosom swinging lewdly back and forth.

She wasn't trying to look sexy—her hair was a catastrophic blonde bird's nest and she was foaming at the mouth with toothpaste—but I was transfixed by the sight of her, nonetheless. When she'd finally rinsed, she turned and smiled, not in the least bit surprised to find me still staring at her.

Tracy's eyes dipped south, where my erection had returned with such a force that it was actually pushing the waistband of my boxer-briefs out and away from my body.

"Is that an erection in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Hey, my eyes are up here," I joked.

"Yeah, that's what all guys say."

Tracy reclined against the porcelain sink, still pointedly looking at my stiff cock. She whispered, "That was pretty hot last night, wasn't it? Listening to each other, I mean. You guys really sounded like you were enjoying yourselves."

"WE sounded like we were enjoying ourselves? You two kept at it until like six AM!"

She laughed, "I guess we had a lot of catching up to do. My thigh muscles are killing me, but it was totally worth it..."

The fingers she had been absent-mindedly twirling through her hair dropped down to teasingly caress the curve of her breast.

"Connor said you guys set this whole thing up just to get him and me back together?"

I nodded.

"So..." Tracy pointed up at the sprig of mistletoe I had sneakily hung from the bathroom light two days earlier. "That's why there's all this mistletoe everywhere? For Connor and me?"

I swallowed hard as she took a step towards me, grinning suggestively.

"That, uh, that was the general idea, yes," I stammered. It was crazy that Tracy still had this effect on me. Three years of intimate friendship, and her smile still got me tongue-tied.

She placed a hand on my bare chest and leaned in to whisper, "You never stopped to consider what might happen if, say, you and I got caught half-naked beneath a sprig of this stuff? Not even once?"

"Oh, I considered it," I grinned, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her closer. The weight of Tracy's substantial breasts crushed against me, molding to the shape of my body. Those big green eyes gazed up into mine, twinkling with mischief.

"Good," she said. Then she quickly pressed her marshmallow-soft lips to mine. Our kiss was brief and platonic, but it still lit a fire inside of my chest. When our lips broke apart, I was reluctant to let her go.

"Hey Tracy?" I whispered. "I really liked hearing you cry out my name last night."

She blushed. "Me too," she whispered. Then, after a moment's consideration, she pressed her lips to my ear and quietly moaned, "Ooh, Shane..."

My heart was pounding. I pulled her in even closer, feeling my raging hard-on press firmly against her stomach.

"Oh yes! Oh, Shane," she teased. "You mean like that?"

"Jesus, Tracy."

She grinned at my obvious discomfort.

"Fuck me harder, Shane. Fuck me harder with that beautiful cock. Fuck me like we both always dreamed about..." she kept whimpering in my ear, teasing me to the point of madness.

Not even realizing what I was doing, I took my hands off of her waist and grabbed hold of her ass, squeezing those pliant globes through the fabric of her shirt. Tracy sucked in a gasp of air, surprised by my behavior, but she quickly followed suit and began groping away at my butt, too. She stopped moaning my name just long enough to swipe her tongue along the length of my neck.

The head of my cock was now peeking out above my underwear, and as I ground it against Tracy's body I leaked a big dollop of precum across her shirt. I squeezed her ass even harder.

"I don't think this is proper mistletoe behavior," she whispered with a sigh.

I pulled away, looked into her eyes, and nodded.

"Yeah, we should probably stop ourselves before we cross the line."

But even as I said the words, I realized I no longer had any idea what they meant. What the hell was "the line," anyway? After the previous two nights, it felt like the intimacy barriers between us all were collapsing left and right. Not 48 hours ago, my own wife had screwed around with my Tracy. And if that was okay, then why couldn't Tracy and I...

Tracy swallowed. "Yeah, we should stop."

"Yeah."

"After one more kiss."

"Okay."

She threw herself at me. Tracy attacked with such a fervor that I actually stumbled back, bumping my head against the wall. But the second her lips made contact with mine, all that was forgotten. I disappeared into the sugary sweetness of her embrace, hungrily wrestling her tongue with my own. My hands lashed out, squeezing and fondling her epic, braless tits—YES—reveling in the way Tracy's abundant soft flesh overflowed around my fingers.

"Mmm!" she moaned into my mouth.

I opened my eyes and looked in the bathroom mirror, delighted to see the reflection of Tracy's sumptuous, bare-naked ass staring back at me. The urgent groping of my hands on her boobs had the unexpected side-effect of hiking Tracy's shirt up higher and higher, until she was totally nude from the chest down. Below, her excited hands on my butt had done the same exact thing to my underwear, gradually shifting it down further and further, until my agonizingly hard penis was exposed and grinding directly against the smooth skin of her belly.

"Oh shit," I groaned.

A year ago, when Ria and I had first discussed fooling around with our two best friends, we'd decided on a firm "no sex" policy. But with the way things were going, was that rule even still in place? Tracy's voluptuous, half-naked body was just begging to be fucked.

Ria would understand, wouldn't she? If I just planted Tracy's ass up on the bathroom counter right then and there, and buried myself in her sweet cunt? Ria would understand, Connor would understand—deep down, wasn't it what we all really wanted, anyway?

Tracy suddenly grabbed hold of my erection and started pumping—HOLY FUCK THAT FELT GOOD. Our tongues and lips mashed together, drinking fire. Moaning, groaning—

Through the fog of our arousal, we somehow still heard Ria's footsteps, padding down the hallway towards the bathroom door.

Tracy and I immediately broke apart and readjusted our sparse bits of clothing into some poor approximation of modesty. My eyes met hers, and it was plain as day that Tracy was every as bit bewildered by what was happening as I was. Not saying a word, we opened the bathroom door and walked out.

RIA

Shane and Tracy were both blushing so bad, they looked sunburned. As they skittered embarrassedly out of the bathroom—my husband's cock threatening to rip a hole on his underwear—there was no hiding the fact that they'd been getting pretty friendly in there.

The only real question was HOW friendly...

I smiled to myself. It was odd, but thoughts of my husband and my best friend screwing around had long since lost their ability to make me jealous. I blame all the role-playing Shane and I did. In the past year, we'd had so much great sex pretending that I was Tracy, the idea of them together actually kind of turned me on.

Not that any of us would ever actually have sex with each other's partner though, right? I mean, last night we'd all SAID that we wanted to swap—but wasn't that just the sort of thing people say in the heat of the moment?

I felt a tickle of arousal between my legs and sighed. It was only Christmas Eve—we still had five days left of our vacation time at this cabin. Five days when anything at all could happen. If the rest of our time here was like the previous night, I wasn't sure I'd survive. That hours-long marathon fuck session had left me totally exhausted. Every muscle in my body ached: Legs, butt, tummy—even my jaw muscles were a bit sore from the prolonged blowjob I'd given Shane in the shower.

After finishing my morning beauty routine and heading back into the bedroom, I found my husband sitting on the edge of the bed—still blushing, and still sporting that ridiculous erection.

He grinned guiltily, "Sorry, guess Tracy and I got a little carried away under the mistletoe."

I gave Shane a quick, reassuring kiss on the cheek. "I think we're past the point of needing to apologize every time we enjoy a bit of harmless fun with our friends, don't you?"

He laughed, nodding. I decided to have a little fun with his obvious discomfort.

"Of course, whatever you just did with Tracy, I get to do with Connor. To keep things even."

"Sounds fair."

"Just how far did it go?" I teased, tracing a finger up the outline of his penis.

Shane grabbed me by the hair and pulled me in for a good firm kiss on the lips. My fingers reflexively squeezed around his shaft.

"Did you touch her tits?" I asked.

Shane nodded, excited.

"Naughty boy. That means now I get to have Connor play with my tits."

"Mmm, go ahead," Shane whispered, his cock pulsing in my grip.

"Did she touch your cock?" I asked.

"Yeah."

That actually caught me by surprise. "So then I get to touch Connor's cock, right?"

"Whatever makes you happy, baby."

I slipped my hand inside his fly, feeling the hot bare skin beneath.

"Did you fuck her?" I whispered in his ear.

"No."

"But do you want to?"

"You know it's my fantasy," Shane chuckled.

I could feel my body trembling. My pulse raced as I haltingly whispered, "What if it didn't have to be a fantasy? What if it was REAL?"

Shane looked me right in the eye, saying nothing. I couldn't believe the words I was saying:

"Would you fuck her for real?" I continued. "Not just role-playing, and not just fooling around. I mean you and Tracy, really going all the way with each other. Fucking."

My husband took a deep breath, his face a shifting mask of arousal and uncertainty. "Are you being serious? Or is all this talk still just us playing around?"

I squeezed his rigid cock. "Jesus, Shane, after last night, I'm not even sure anymore. I don't know where the fantasy ends and the reality begins. Just please answer the question: Do you actually want to fuck Tracy?"

His breathing turned ragged. "Yes, but—"

"But what?"

"But just 'wanting' something doesn't necessarily make it a good idea, right? I mean, when someone cuts me off in traffic, I 'want' to ram them into a telephone pole—but I don't."

"So that's a no, then?" I asked, not sure whether I was relieved or disappointed.

Shane held my gaze with those stunning eyes.

"Ria, I love you. You're my wife and my soulmate. I would never do anything to hurt you."

"But what," I practically choked on my own words, I was so nervous, "what if I told you it wouldn't hurt me? What if I told you I'd be okay with it?"

"Would you?" he whispered.

Ever so slowly, I nodded. I couldn't believe how wet this conversation was making me. "Actually, just thinking about you and her doing it turns me on."

Shane's penis jerked excitedly in my hand. "Then my honest answer is yes," he whispered. "Yes, I'd have sex with our friend Tracy if given the chance."

"And-and I'd fuck Connor," I stammered.

Shane let out a deep, shuddering breath. His cheeks turned bright red.

"Do you think—do you think they want it, too? All the way? For real?" I asked.

"I think those two have wanted to fuck us since the night we all met."

"Oh my god," I moaned, dropping onto the bed beside Shane. The world spun around me, and I could feel my whole body shaking like a leaf. Shane held me tightly in his arms.

"Holy shit, we're really gonna do this, aren't we?" I asked.

"I think we really are."

"You're not jealous?"

In reply, Shane pulled me onto his lap and looked richt at me with those beautiful eyes of his that I loved so much. "Just promise me you'll still be my wife in the morning."

"Oh, honey!"

We kissed with a passion until we were both out of breath.

"God damn, I can't believe how fucking hard I am," Shane laughed through clenched teeth.

I sat up, releasing my hold on his cock. "How do we—I mean, where do we even start? How do you bring up something like that in a conversation?"

Shane scratched at the dark stubble on his chin and said, "You do realize that, come midnight, it's officially Christmas, right?"

"Our one year anniversary..."

"Yeah. Hell of an anniversary present to give each other, huh?"

We both laughed nervously. Then Shane took my hands in his and whispered, "Seriously though, let's say this is our present to one another."

"Having sex with other people?"

"I know, it's not exactly normal. But look at it this way: If we're really going to go through with this, shouldn't it be something that we give to each other?"

"That's quite a generous gift."

"Yeah, from you, too."

"I guess we must really love each other, giving such thoughtful presents."

He smiled when I said that.

"So," I smiled back, "does that mean we have to wait until midnight? Before we unwrap our presents?"

"Exactly," he grinned, glancing at the clock. "Which gives us exactly nine hours and fourteen minutes to get Connor and Tracy so goddamn horny, they're begging us for it."

"Ooh, we get to tease them first. I like it!"

With that in mind, I walked over to my suitcase and retrieved a lacy black bra.

"I wouldn't go with black lace," Shane called out.

"You don't think this bra looks good on me?"

"I think that bra looks amazing on you, honey—but I'm not Connor. The guy's a fitness nut, you should go for an athletic look."

I put an amused hand on my hip. "You're giving me tips on how to seduce your friend?"

He nodded, grinning.

As per Shane's suggestion, I discarded the black lingerie and wiggled into a skimpy pink sports bra and some stretchy running shorts that barely covered my butt. I completed the look by throwing my hair up into a high pony and putting on just enough makeup to look like I wasn't wearing any at all.

"Perfect!" Shane grinned. "And remember to keep giving him opportunities to check out your ass—Connor is obsessed with your ass."

He gave my butt a reassuring squeeze to make his point. I playfully escaped his grasp and retrieved the black silk pajamas I'd bought Shane for his birthday a few months earlier.

"Here, wear these. Tracy loves the feel of silk against her skin."

"In that case, I'll have to find some excuses to rub up against her."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," I laughed.

I gave my wonderful husband a big kiss on the mouth, and—holding hands—we descended the stairs to meet our friends for a MUCH-delayed breakfast.

SHANE

Ria's sporty outfit worked even better than I'd expected. When Connor saw my wife walking down the stairs towards him—her horny little nipples blatantly poking through the material of that sports bra—his jaw literally dropped open.

I could tell Ria liked what she saw, too. Connor had stretched a VERY tight blue tee shirt over his muscles, and his baggy basketball shorts did nothing to disguise the erection that had sprung up the moment he'd laid eyes on my wife's barely clothed body.

Not that I could blame the guy.

Just like Connor, I was also unabashedly sporting a major stiffy, though in all honesty it had less to do with Ria and more to do with the fact that Tracy still wasn't wearing a bra.

She'd changed into a pair of stretchy black yoga pants and a matching black camisole, with spaghetti straps and a scooped neckline designed to show off every bountiful millimeter of her cleavage.

Ria greeted Connor with a hug and a kiss under the mistletoe, deliberately letting her lips linger just a bit longer than he'd been expecting.

"Hey, get a room!" Tracy teased.

Ria smacked her playfully on the butt. "Speak for yourself, Trace. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't walked in on you and Shane this morning?"

Connor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Did I miss something?"

"Wait, seriously?" Ria laughed. "You didn't hear these two moaning in the bathroom?"

"Hey, I was OUT. Like, 'hybernating bear' out. After what Tracy here put me through last night, it's amazing I was able to wake up at all."

We all laughed.

Tracy gave him a reassuring peck in the cheek and whispered, "What happened is, our two friends here hung up way too much mistletoe around this cabin. A girl can't even brush her teeth without getting kissed!"

"Speaking of which," Ria helpfully gestured in my direction.

Tracy's face lit up like a Christmas tree and she skipped over to me, those fabulous tits bouncing with every step. I pulled her in for a kiss—

"Mmm!" she moaned in pleasant surprise, breaking our lip lock to playfully stroke her fingers along the sleeves of my pajama top. "This is silk!"

Then, purring like a cat, she leaned in for another red-hot kiss, rubbing her whole body against me.

Thank you, Ria.

With our good morning kisses out of the way, the four of us went about preparing some much-needed sustenance. But, despite our empty stomachs, Ria and I still made every effort to distract our two sexy friends while we scurried about in the cozy confines of the kitchen.

"Hey Connor?" Ria pouted, "Could you help me reach that bread on the top shelf of the pantry? I'm not quite tall enough."

If she'd really wanted to, she could have reached it on her tip-toes, but Connor was more than happy to be of assistance—walking up behind my wife and then blushing as she surreptitiously pushed her drum-tight, barely-covered ass backwards against his cock.

Speechless, he grabbed the loaf of sourdough and handed it to her, but Ria purposefully dropped it—

"Whoops!"