Ben did not have long to wait for an answer. It arrived shortly before dinner. To his relief, Christine did not appear to be too upset about his betrayal. Her text read: -

To Ben: - "E. could not stop talking about the wild sex she had this afternoon; she wanted to and made me envious! Also, told me about the extra photos you have of us. Please, transfer all of them to our Pad. You told E. about our secret. Very naughty, but I'll get even. I will show the photos to E. tomorrow morning on the computer (before her shift, with no people around). She will see what fun you and I had on the bed!!? That will make her day! Sweet revenge! C."

After dinner, Ben downloaded both of the desired folios to Christine's and Erika's Pad. In the text, Ben wrote: -

To Cristine: - "Attached are your folios. Hope you like yours. E. got very stirred up and aroused by your sexy dress, especially in the shot where you lounge on the bed. Wish I could be there tomorrow morning and watch when E. looks at your bed-side(!!) folio. Hope you forgive me for not keeping it secret. But should there be secrets between us three? B."

To this question came no reply and Ben went somewhat disappointed to bed. But next morning his Ipad pinged, and two texts required an immediate response. The exchange that followed answered unequivocally the queries Ben had harboured about his relationship with Erika and Christine: -

To Ben: - "She must lend me that dress!! E."

To Ben: - "I will not, unless ... C."

To Christine: - "Unless what?? B."

To Ben: - "Unless she lends me in exchange her sexy undies, and ... C."

To Christine: - "And what?? B."

To Ben: - "We wear it while we are together on the bed with you!!? C."

To Erika: - "And you agree? B."

To Ben: - "After sharing this sinful dress and these sexy undies, we naughty sisters have agreed to share from now on everything!! E. & C."

To Erika & Christine: - "How could I ever resist you, either singly or combined!! When?? B."

To this question, Ben did not expect an answer. In passing the office on his way down for breakfast, Christine did not give him the usual wave. Grinning broadly, she brought both hands up to her lips and send him a kiss. Surprised, Ben gave her a feeble wave which made Christine break out in laughter.

As it was early, there was only one couple at breakfast, and their table was at the other end of the room. Erika, in serving him, stood even closer than last time, with her hip nudging his arm. So encouraged, Ben slipped the hand between her thighs, with his thumb pressing against her pussy. Without looking up, he murmured: -

"I loved your sexting this morning. See what it does to me."

In reply, Erika bent over to refill Ben's cup. One breast came to rest on his cheek, and Erika's thighs closed firmly with a rubbing caress over Ben's marauding hand.

On his way back to his room, Christine waved Ben into the office. She thanked him, first, for transferring the complete folios to their Ipad, and how much she liked all the photos he had taken of both of them. When she asked Ben why his photography was so good, he told her that he had some training and had, as an amateur-photographer, exhibited his work.

But then he laughed and said: -

"But with two such beautiful, sexy, naughty sisters, how could I fail?"

For a moment, Christine hesitated before she said: -

"Erika and I have always known that we are not ugly and that men wanted to get their hands on us. But, until we saw these photos, we had no idea what we could be for a man that loves and desires us like you."

A blush had crept on Christine's face. It stayed there as she changed the subject and told Ben that she would accompany them tomorrow on the weekend excursion to Gerd's hunting shack. She was interested, Christine said, about the rebuilding he and his mates were planning. Gerd had not at all been keen on her coming along. Christine gave Ben a mischievous side-way glance and asked: -

"You are not upset that it is no longer a boys-only outing, are you?"

On Saturday morning, with Erika left in charge of the hotel, Ben and Christine joined Gerd in his Mercedes for the hour's drive up to the valley. Gerd's friends would join them on site.

For most of the drive, Christine turned in her front-seat to talk with Ben in the back. While she told him about the opening-up of an additional ski-resort in the side-valley and the conflicting interests and the politicking, her laughing eyes and tempting lips told a parallel tale. While her husband, driving slowly, concentrated on the narrow, winding road, Christine was no longer just flirting.

When they arrived, the builder and friends were waiting. Gerd unlooked the door. The hut, solidly built with log-walls and weatherproof windows and doors, had two large rooms. The front was furnished with a stove, a corner bench, chairs, large table and a massive, 19th Century credenza for supplies and utensils. The sleeping room adjoining was utilitarian: It had a raw board-bench along one wall, and a raised, eight-foot deep platform along the opposite one. The latter was covered with thick hessian matting and could accommodate eight or - on a squeeze - ten sleepers. There was a pile of army blankets in one corner.

Christine had brought blankets from the hotel. While the men stayed outside, talking already about the rebuilding task, Christine and Ben carried the brought provisions inside. The foods' place was a given. With the bedding, it got interesting. Ben placed his blankets at the platform's end close to the wall, adding his back-pack and track-suit as a pillow. Christine watched and smiled. She spread out Gerd's and her blankets. And then, smiling at Ben with the tip of her tongue showing, Christine placed her pillow and track-suit right next to his. Shifting Gerd's bedding further away, she grinned at Ben: -

"I'll be safe here, won't I? At rest, between you two."

At lunch-time, with the repast of rye-bread, cheese and salami, the Schnapps-bottles appeared. As hunters and proud locals, they had brought no other drinks into the mountain. Traditionally, the 70% Proof Schnapps guaranteed a wipe-out and took up little space and weight in their gear-packs. Ben was not allowed to refuse. He was not a spirits-drinker, and after two hearty sips felt the effect. He would need to watch it!

In the afternoon, Gerd and friends stuck to their task: Measuring, drawing, arguing, photographing, calculating. Christine and Ben, so clearly outsiders went for a long, exploring walk. She took his hand and so countered his Schnapps-induced wobble as they strolled laughing and chatting like an established loving couple. There was nothing untoward, until later in the afternoon.

The September-sun, still pleasantly warm, had set the valley aglow. Christine and Ben had on a rise, first sat down in the grass and now they lay there, stretched out. When Ben opened his eyes, Christine was bent over him. He felt the tips of her breasts touching and moving against his chest. Christine's lips were almost touching his as she asked: -

"I wonder how much Erika is missing you this afternoon?"

And then she kissed him.

It was a questioning kiss: Not too brief, but light in touch, ending with a mere suggestion of tongue brushing over his lips. Ben responded by pulling Christine close, and his hand caressing the firm roundness of her ass in her tight-fit jeans. As Christine rubbed her groin against his rising erection, Ben decided on the truest, possible answer: -

"I hope she misses me and our wild, glorious sex and loving each other. ... Erika and I have something special. ... As you know, our loving goes back a long way ... we are catching up. ... With you and me ... it's a bit different. ... Would our sex be as wild and wonderful too? ... You know, Christine, don't you, that I love you, desire you, just like I do Erika. ... But there could never be a choice, an either you or her for me."

Christine sat up, hunched over her knees. For the moment she found no reply. Ben had now seriously acknowledged what they, she and Erika, had teasingly toyed with in yesterday's sexting. But they had only jokingly promised a little joint-playing on the bed. Or did they, like Ben, desire to share fully?

On returning from their afternoon's explore, Ben and Christine found Gerd and friends sitting on the bench leaning against the hut's wall. They had finished their day's work and were pleased with what they had done. A bottle was passed, and glasses filled and refilled and toasts drunk. Ben was invited to join, a shot-glass for him was found. When they were raised for a toast, Ben only sipped while the others drowned theirs. On sitting down on the end of the bench, he poured the rest on the ground. Then he listened as Gerd, and the builder explained in detail how the hut would be rebuilt.

The evening meal, prepared by the men with much roaring laughter, was a huge frying pan of bacon and eggs. Eaten with thick slices of rye-bread to soak up the fat, they declared it the proper food to line their stomachs for, now the work was done, some serious drinking. By then they were, Christine pointed out, on their third bottle of Schnapps. "Who is counting!" - guffawed Gerd.

By then, he and the other blokes no longer noticed that Ben had stopped matching their intake. When they brought out the playing-cards, there was a moment's hesitation. It was the builder, not Gerd, that looked at Christine and Ben and asked if they wanted to play poker. The others were silent. It was clearly not the game they favoured but with six, what else could they play? There was a sigh of relief when the outsiders - hardly any of the men, including Gerd, had spoken to Christine all day - left them to play their foursome.

Christine cleaned up and washed the dishes. Ben eventually got up. He complained he had too much to drink. Putting on a show, he staggered outside for a piss and cold wash in the trough. On returning to the room, the light of the one kerosene-lamp over the table made it easy for Ben to stay in the shadows. His plea that he did not feel too well after all the Schnapps and better bed down was - with suppressed laughter - condescendingly believed by the hard-drinking card-players. Christine lent him a flashlight, giving him a quick smile and wink. So, Ben made for his pallet in the corner of the other room and an unlikely early night.

He would wait for her. They had not exchanged a word about what would happen. Yet Ben was sure that they were in silent collusion that somehow, it would be their night. He left the ultimate choice of what they would do to Christine. Everything was out in the open between the three of them. As Ben thought about all the possibilities that were, perhaps, in the offering, he stretched out pleasantly aroused, waiting in the dark.

Half-an-hour or so had passed before Ben saw a dull flow of light coming from the briefly opening door. Then there were her light foot-steps and the touch of her hand on his leg. "You have my flashlight, Ben?" Christine murmured.

She had slid up next to him, and her hand had stolen under the blanket. Christine suppressed a giggle as her hand found Ben well aroused. She whispered: -

"You keep the flashlight. You'll want to turn it on for me to undress, won't you?"

Christine giggled: -

"After all, you have always seen me dressed. If somebody comes, turn it off quickly."

Then she moved away, and the darkness was charged with expectations.

Ben found the flashlight. Gripping its round shape, he turned on his side, resting it on the mating close to his chest. At the slightest sound of intruders, Ben could pull the light under the blanket. Then he pressed the button. Christine, just out of reach, sat there on top of her bedding in the softly reflected light. She looked at him, smiled, had been waiting. They were in unspoken unison. There was not going to be anything accidental about Christine's stripping and Ben's watching. Or about what could follow.

Christine now bent forward, took off her shoes, dropped them to the ground. Then, getting on her knees and sitting back, she half-turned to him. Unhurriedly at ease, it appeared, Christine reached for the seam of her top and pulled it up and off over her head. When she shook her head to flatten her messed-up hair, her tits jiggled provocatively in the cups of her bra. Christine now grinned. As she reached behind her back to unclasp it, she pursed her lips in an air-kiss in Ben's direction. And then, throwing the bra aside, Christine turned fully towards him.

She slowly slid her hands up from her belly over her firm, lovely breasts, to present them to Ben. He drew in his breath as he looked at them in their sexy, stiff-nippled young woman's glory. And a moan of pleasure escaped Christine at the saucy joy welling-up in her pussy. Now, finally, she would show Ben, next to her with his hard-on, the sensual beauty her husband neglected and, therefore, had never seen.

When Christine shifted to a sitting position, her hands patted a few times over the blanket. Then she smiled at Ben. She did not tell him that her track-suit - she had, for a moment only, turned prim and searched for the top - was still in her pack. Christine quickly decided, blushing in her excitement, to stay naked to the last. And Ben, his hand clasping the turned-on flashlight, had not moved.

Christine lay back. Stretched out, her now stiff, excited nipples pointed in the air as she undid the belt on her jeans and the zip on the side. Then she lifted her backside and worked the tight denim slowly down to her ankles and, finally, loose. Now only in her panties, Christine turned towards Ben. Her hand reached for his face. Her fingers found and slid into his mouth as hers formed the silent questions: -

"Do I excite you? ... Do you want me? ... Show me how much?"

And her fingers, buried in his mouth, played an all-suggesting game with his caressing tongue.

Eventually, Christine withdrew her hand. With her face still turned to Ben, she stretched out, and her hands began to strip her panties, centimetre by centimetre, down over her blond-haired pubes to her knees. Raising her legs high, Christine took them off. Holding her lacy panties in one hand, she reached out to place them over Ben's face. Then Christine threw herself over the flashlight and Ben's blanket-covered body.

Now in darkness, her hand rubbed her still warm panties over his lips and under his nose. When his lips were momentarily free, Ben found hers, and he pushed his tongue forcefully, in a taking-all way, into Christine's mouth. It was the answer she wanted. When they broke their kiss - Ben's hands were arrested under the blanket, and he could not touch her alluring nakedness - Christine whispered: -

"I think you like my pussy's hot smell. Too bad you can't eat up my pussy like you do with Erika."

Now it was Christine's tongue that demandingly invaded Ben's mouth. His throaty moan and twirling tongue gave her the answer.

Christine rolled off. Kneeling upright, naked, she swayed for a moment in the flashlight's on-again sheen, displaying her beauty. Then Christine bent over to look for her track-suit. As she unzipped her bag, she looked back at Ben. His eyes devoured her. So, while her hands searched through the pack wasting time, Christine had shifted closer to Ben. Before his eyes were the firm roundness of Christine's beautiful ass. Her shapely thighs were spread slightly open to temptingly frame the luscious mound of her pussy. Its slit glistened in arousal in the dim light.

All Ben could reach was Christine's foot. As he stared and panted in frustration, Christine's toes stretched and curled in the palm of his hand. But then, all too soon for him, she found her things. She sat up and slipped the top over her head. Then she rolled away from him. In one smooth move, her lifted legs slid into the pants, and the next second, she was under her blanket.

Turned on her side, she faced him across the gap and asked him for her flashlight: -

"You won't need it any more tonight. I may need it to bed down Gerd. ... He'll be very drunk tonight. ... Again. ... He'll probably keep us awake with his snoring."

When Ben handed her the flashlight, Christine turned it off.

Now, safely in the dark, Christine could no longer control her attack of giggling. She half-slipped out from under her blanket to embrace Ben. With her mouth close to his ear, she whispered her regrets that they could not play now: -

"They could come in, surprise us. They all have flashlights. ... But they are already pretty drunk. They'll all sleep like logs ... soon I hope."

By then, with her ass in tempting reach, Ben had slipped his hand into Christine's pants and was caressing her sexily twitching buttocks. They were begging for more! Christine moaned into his ear: -

"We must wait. God, I hope, not too long! I'm sick of waiting!"

Almost violently, Christine threw herself back on her part of the mattress.

They lay there on their assigned place, in the dark, breathing quietly, forcing down their acute state of arousal. When Ben stretched his hand in the separating gap, he found Christine's reaching for his. They were one in their need for each other. Despite his determination to stay awake, the relatively little Schnapps he had not been able to refuse, mastered him. Ben fell asleep, still holding Christine's hand.

When the four men staggered in to bed down, they were still considerate enough to try - and failing - not to wake them, Christine quickly released Ben's hand. Pretending to be deeply asleep, she turned her back on Gerd. He unlaced his boots and let them thump heavily on the floor. Without undressing any further, he drew the blanket over him. Now Ben was awake. The wait was nearly over.

Soon the regular breathing and occasional snore from the men told Christine they were safely asleep. Centimetre by centimetre, she crept closer to Ben. He, less sly and cunning than her, opened his arms to embrace her. Christine resisted, but then kissed him hotly. She cradled his head and put her lips to his ear to whisper: -

"It's too soon. I still have to turn my back on you. Just in case, somebody wakes up."

Christine turned away but pressed and sinuously ground her ass against Ben's growing erection. And he risked sliding a hand under her loose top without grabbing Christine's tempting tits. Instead, he began to caress the softness of her belly, without his fingertips touching her bush. Then his fingers slid up her side into her arm-pits.

On the way down, Ben lightly brushed, for a wonderful first time, over one of Christine's sexily pointy nipples. Ben heard her sigh. She gripped his hand as it rested on her tensing belly. For a drawn-out moment, Christine's feverish mind tried to decide: Where would she guide Ben's hand?

Should she leave it to him? What if his fingers would dare to slide into her lusting, slippery pussy? There was only the soft cloth of her loose track-suit pants between his rock-hard cock and her ass pressing against its seductive feel. Would then sink only Ben's fingers in the hot depth of her cunt? What if he pulled down her pants and - God, why didn't he - fuck her? Already now? They were thoughts that made Christine push her legs together over her pulsating pussy. But then Ben's hand moved onto her straining breasts to caress her so tellingly aroused nipples.

When Christine's slightly lifted to allow Ben's other hand to make love to her arching tits, their bodies had moved closer together. Gerd had not only begun to snore but, on being pushed by Christine, had turned away from them. Christine decided that now they were safe. She was not going to wait for Ben to take the initiative. Moving close, Christine rucked up her top and pushed her tits into his face. As Ben's mouth closed over one, her hand grasped his hair with a stifled moan.

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