While Paul Talbert and I married young the Summer of Love, we did not become willing participants in the sexual revolution until a decade later, a decade deep into married. Our initial foray into the unknown began with a misstep into our guest bathroom over a lengthy Memorial Day holiday while Cousin Peggy's husband changed out of wet swim wear. His was the first untrimmed human penis I'd seen in the flesh.
"Sorry, Claudia," Elliott said, acknowledging apologetically my invasion of his privacy. "I should have bolted the door."
Unashamed, Elliott posed and waited for me to collect my senses and leave, or make the mistake and move closer in his direction. My hesitation indicated the former. His penis was seven inches of thick pink pleasure with quite a ways to go before insertion was possible and insertion into my cunt was something I gave a long thought; I believed I would find pleasurable. With the long limp hooded monster in the palm of his hand, Elliott extended the offer I was hoping to hear when he asked, "Would you care to touch?"
Instead of acceptance, propriety got the better of me. Embarrassed, I did an about-face on my toes, a pirouette that would have impressed Mary Beth, my old dance teacher, and fled the scene like a frightened schoolgirl.
After dinner that evening, Peggy and I shared a retell of my embarrassment out of earshot of the rest of the family and dwelled on the possibilities. Just short of midnight, she and I decided. With the children at my parents' home in Wellsville, I felt safe, ready to indulge the fantasy. To Paul's surprise, there was a smile on my mouth as Peggy stripped away the cloth that hindered her seduction of my husband of ten years. With a hand in his shorts and firm grip on his testicles Peggy led Paul up the stairs to the master bedroom. Her thoughtful departure gave me the freedom to have my way with Elliott and the mysterious member there in his jeans.
Nothing was said as Tuesday dawned nor since. But now as I stare up at the stars on this 4th of July night I reason the events of this evening are a payback of sorts for my wandering ways. As tonight unfolds before my eyes I realize payback a good think; a 'thank you' for Cousin Peggy and what she taught Paul over the Memorial Day hiatus from our vows.
Matthew Morton came first, well before dusk, with kisses no one ever duplicated prior to that evening. The bright sky overhead held the two of us in check fearful of discovery. But don't fret; I came twice while with my blouse open Matthew applied his warm wet mouth over the whole of my being.
Robbie followed. Out on the patio, far from the terrace and watchful eyes, I tasted flavors on his penis never before sampled. I'm sure I tasted a woman's morning dew mixed in with Robbie's sweat.
Then Barbara, ah, dear inquisitive, bedroom-eyed Barbara and the preserves she and I put-up after the first pick at the raspberry bushes on the back fence. We smeared the jam on our junk and licked each other's sex clean of the seeds and the flavor and the coloring. This memory is slightly out of sequence but it bears repeating for what Barbara and I had was absolutely phenomenal.
And finally Jared; Jared and his untamed organ violated ever vow I made to Paul, my loving, deranged well-trained husband, once Jared finally had the nerve to ask.
Hardly a mob I reason as I recall the chronology a second time, maybe the third retell.
I am not naive. I am an accomplice to what occurred. Since the birth of our last, daughter Kristen, I've bulked up. Five mile morning runs muscled my bottom round and hard. My hips now support hip-huggers as they were meant to be worn, low on the hips nearly to the hair line. My breasts, which bloomed during that last pregnancy, fill a C cup beautifully right to the rim. My nipples are just a few degrees below the perpendicular even without the support of a bra. That 4th of July morning, while Paul watched, I cropped the auburn tangle short before donning a thigh-high denim skirt and red silk. I slipped lovely feet and French-nailed toes into wedge-heeled summer sandals. I slipped into a white cotton oxford and knotted the tails at my navel. I made clear my intent when I did a single button between bare breasts. I rolled the long sleeves up to my biceps.
"Who are you getting all dolled-up for?" Paul questioned.
"For everyone, darling'," I let slip the answer. "Everyone. Paul."
By eight, the backyard festivities are coming to a close as most of the guests make their way to the ball field at Town Park on Lincoln for the fireworks. Only a few stragglers remain for the fireworks closer to home. Unbeknownst to me sinister thoughts are bandied about in my absence, salacious thoughts searching for a place to light. Shortly thereafter, once I finish my ten-minute cleanup outdoors, I unknowingly put those thoughts into action after sending Matthew on his way.
It's after ten when I set Robbie Anderson free of the pubescent drinking game the others are engaged in at the kitchen table after he slips a warm hand beneath my skirt.
"Underwear?" he questioned. He's found me without underwear more times than I can count but he never took it further than a finger in my asshole.
I take Robbie out to the patio beside the pool without realizing there are best-laid plans at work. I sit at the foot of the chaise lounge and let him know, "I heard what you asked Barbara."
"She said 'maybe later'."
"Paul will break your legs if you try to face-fuck his sister. You should have asked me, Robbie. I hate being left out and I can keep secrets."
"Would you?" he asks with his finger on the trigger, the tarnished brass pull on the zipper of his jeans.
I look to the terrace. Finding it lacking any activity, I answer, "Yes."
Robbie wrangles his penis, already fully erect out through the fly in his BVDs. He steps up with the intention of giving me the best he has to offer. He is scented of woman and sweat. I note the unusual aftertaste when he comes in my mouth.
With a thin watery trickle balanced on my tongue, I hear Robbie admit apologetically he pleasured himself while he watched Matthew and I engage in a long wet kiss out on the terrace.
"I imagined you were kissing me, Claudia."
"I can do that, Robbie."
Robbie tucks the little guy away before kneeling beside the chaise lounge.
"Kiss me, Claudia."
Robbie and I share the overflow provided for several minutes before my sister-in-law intrudes. She makes her appearance in the semi-dark before moon rise clad in an oversized yellow tee and little else. She steps onto the flagstone with a pint jar in hand and a smirk on her lovely face.
"Can I join in?"
"I'll leave you two," Robbie says. Always the gentleman or fearful of Paul's wrath, he make himself scarce.
Barbara sits beside me. She strokes by shoulders and runs her fingers to the small of my back. Weakly, I try to ignore the overtures. I almost cave once her mouth takes my lips.
Barbara reaches into my oxford and tweaks a nipple until it is firm in her fingers.
"A woman's prerogative Claudia," she says.
"For obvious reasons I still think of you as a child. You were nine when Paul and I first dated, Barb."
That said Barbara sets out to prove me wrong. She raises the hem of her tee shirt to her throat then pulls the cloth over and away from the thick black curls that frame her face. She bares a slight frame and small breasts. The sight brings a smile to my lips.
"Like I said..."
Admittedly my remark is cruel, but Barbara's desire is more durable than my slight. She pulls at the string ties on her left hip and lets the white cover free fall to the flagstone.
"Oh, dear; what have you done, Barb?"
"Some necessary lawn care, Claudia," she answers. "Do you like?"
Barbara steps close. Her scent fills me with that strange longing. Upon a diligent inspection I find twenty year old polished smooth between her narrow hips.
'You feel so clean, Barb."
"I'll do the same for you, Claudia, but later, okay?"
When I fail to answer, Barbara opens the pint jar and dips her fingers into the jam she and I had processed the previous weekend. She parts her legs and I fall into the trap while I continue stroking her abdomen. She rubs her fingers into the cleft slathering her sex until the petals are a bright raspberry red and swollen from the simulation applied.
"Have you tried this?" she asks as she raises her fingers to my mouth. The sophistication with which she makes the suggestion confuses. I taste the sweetness on the tips of her fingers and finally after a thought-filled pause answer, "No, Barb. I have never."
Barbara slips away from my touch and lies on the cool stone. I admire her courage and think it remiss to refuse the offer.
"Indulge the fantasy," I tell myself as I follow after Barbara. While I feast, she chooses a more comfortable pose with her calves resting on my back.
I have her teats at the tips of my fingers when I hear her call out, "Harder, Claudia."
Without putting my wonder to words I sink my overbite into the petals of her sex. I pull at her nipples callously until there was blood on my fingers.
It comes quickly for Barbara. I struggle to hold fast to her flesh as her body contorts violently.
"More please," she says.
While I oblige my sister-in-law, I press a heel into my sex and satisfy that need. I suffer a second shudder about the time Barbara does the same. I continue long after I've cleansed Barbara of the sticky jam before I slather my labia with the jam.
"I couldn't again, Claudia," she says.
But given a second look she offers a thank you with her mouth full on my sex.
I sit back as Barbara reaches for the bottom of her swim suit and the yellow tee shirt.
"We'll do this again, Claudia." she says, so self-assured, it takes me a moment to comprehend her remark.
"I can only hope, Barb."
I watch her walk naked across the lawn with her day wear dangling from her hands. I think to remind Barbara of the danger ahead. Instead I say nothing as she reaches the terrace and makes her way inside.
I sleep for some time not sure how long. The sound of glass tinkling removes the veil of sleep. When I open my eyes the moon is overhead and Jared's shadow falls long onto the patio just to the right of where I lay.
"Are you okay?" Jared asks.
"Oh, I'm just fine. Just a bit stiff," I say unable to avert my gaze."
Jared offers me one of the beers. I down nearly half the bottle to soothe my parched throat. I figure Jared and Robbie spoke and the beer a prelude to a question Jared will ask before too long. Jared takes my free hand and pulls me up from the flagstone.
"What are they up too?"
Robbie and Matt took Barb to your bedroom."
"And you let her go?"
"Barb's my big sister, Claudia. She knows what she's getting into and whose getting into her."
"And where's your brother?"
"Paul's asleep on the sofa in the living room."
"We should go in, Jared."
"No, we should not, Claudia."
Jared reaches out and unties the knot that holds the white cotton to my belly. I am not shocked nor do I stop Jared when he undoes the button. His kiss is gentle, his mouth firm as he sucks one teat then the other. My eyes are shut and I'm near the edge when I hear the distress in his throat.
"There's blood on your leg, Claudia."
"Are you hurt?"
"Yes, I am, Jared."
"What is it?" he asks.
"An unexpected visit from an old friend," I say.
I flinch when Jared slips a moist finger into the void between my cheeks.
"Can I have you here?" He presses home the point, now a little deeper with his finger.
I reach out and take his penis in hand.
"Yea, when you're half this size," I say. I ease my hold on him but he remains upright and capable.
"I'll be slow about it, Claudia."
After some finagling and fingering and a liberal application of ointment he's brought to the party I go to my knees before Jared. In the end, I cannot refuse.
And in the end I find Jared lied as he fucks me in the ass like the whore I've become at least for tonight.