I sat on the couch, the room lit by the flicker of some skin-emax show. There was a tumbler of scotch in my hand; one of far too many for the day, but then, this was our annual vacation with a group of friends at the beach and excessive consumption was practically required. This was the third night though, around 11pm, early by first night standards, but well past the breaking point for most after three days of hard partying in the sun and sand.
So at this point it wasn’t surprising that almost everyone was passed out in drunken stupors on their various hotel beds.
I, however, had endured and was the last one awake, or so I thought. My wife, Melissa, and I, had rented a condo with our best friends, Tim and Traci. Melissa had put away more than a few mango daiquiris and had crawled to bed an hour before. Tim and Traci had disappeared about half an hour earlier, kissing and fondling each other in a drunken frenzy. Paige, another friend, had passed out on the floor in front of the couch. She was 24, fit and very attractive, and she was wearing a bikini top and board shorts. As she slept, I occasionally peeked at the sides of her breasts, which spilled out slightly from the bikini, rising and falling with each breath. The sight was making me hard and had prompted me to switch to the skin-emax flick. I was seriously contemplating a trip to the bathroom to relieve the tension, when through my alcoholic stupor I heard movement behind the couch, in the kitchen.
I turned to find Traci, still obviously three sheets to the wind, wearing a short t-shirt and panties. She’d been frolicking about all weekend in a bikini, with the occasional sarong tied around her waist, and so the lacy panties probably shouldn’t have turned me on so much; but the fact was everyone got to see the bikini bottoms – the panties were erotic both because they weren’t meant to be seen and because they were lacy and a bit see-through. She was fumbling around the fridge, trying not to make too much noise. It occurred to me that she could’ve walked in at any time before I heard her in the fridge. I immediately thought back to the skin-emax flick and wondered whether I’d been caught ogling our friend’s chest, or even more embarrassing: fondling my cock every so often.
Mortified, but determined to pretend I’d done nothing embarrassing, I stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “Whatchya looking for?” I asked.
Traci turned and smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile, it seemed forced and there was something in her eyes I couldn’t quite place. “Water.” She continued to root around in the fridge. She stopped, then turned towards me. I tried to stay focused on her face, lest she think I was trying to stare at her panties.
She said, “Tim is too fucked up to finish what he started, so I’m going to hang out and watch TV I guess…”
She looked angry, but there was also something else. Clearly she was pissed that Tim had drank too much – Tim and Traci were our best friends, and I’d seen that same argument play out a hundred times before. But usually Traci would be seething and want to go home, and that would be the end of it from my perspective. Here, though, stuck in a condo with friends, she couldn’t get away to have a real spat with Tim. Plus, apparently, Tim had passed out on her midway through whatever they’d gotten up to, and now she needed to vent to someone. The thought was titillating to say the least. I’d coveted her for years; she was a regular feature in my spank-bank, and here she was admitting that she’d just been trying to get laid and hadn’t gotten off.
“That’s not right…I mean, depending on what he started.” I grinned back at her, hoping to diffuse her anger and turn the conversation toward sex.
“Oh, you know what he started. But then he finished and passed out. That’s definitely not right.”
Suddenly another thought occurred to me: she wasn’t just angry – she was still horny! I realized that acting on it could have some serious consequences; especially if I’d misinterpreted it. In a split second, though, I knew I’d risk it – there might never be another chance to seduce her.
“That’s just fucked up – you know I’d never leave you unsatisfied.” I waited for a response that would tell me she was interested.
Her demeanor changed then, a shift that was palpable, and I realized at once that my response had sounded more serious than joking. She’d come out here pissed and horny, and drunk, and she’d been venting, but it hadn’t ever entered her mind that I might take her intimate admission as an invitation to extra-marital activity.
She tried to downplay the sudden sexual tension with her response, but I could tell she wasn’t totally turned off: “You’re just as drunk as he is, you probably couldn’t do any better.” There was an element of challenge in her voice.
I didn’t want to lose the moment, and so I responded maybe too earnestly. “Oh, I KNOW I could do better. I’d just get you off first!”
Traci looked into my eyes only for a second, but it was enough. It was one of those moments when a quick, searching glance communicated a thousand thoughts and emotions in a heartbeat: an electric combination of lust and desire and adrenaline because we both knew instantly that we were going to ignore every social constraint and act on our impulses. It was definitely a mutual thing: she tilted her head and moved towards me as I did the same, and when our lips met it wasn’t a timid, first-time kiss; it was urgent and open-mouthed, savage and carnal.
The feel of her soft lips on mine was amazing; and her enthusiasm for pushing her tongue around my mouth was a great turn-on. Melissa wasn’t a great kisser and didn’t really get into frenching. Traci was a master. I was too turned on and too drunk to care that there was a faint taste that I recognized; the same taste Melissa’s mouth had after she’d blown me. In fact, the idea that Traci had just blown Tim a little while earlier brought me to a new erotic height.
Meanwhile, my hands roamed her back, down to her ass and felt her tight cheeks, mostly exposed by her skimpy panties. All of this, plus the feel of her pressing her tits into my chest had me painfully hard in moments. Her hands began to roam as well, and when she grasped my cock through my pants, I took this as license to go up under her shirt and grab her tits.
After only a few seconds of this, though, she pulled away. I was struck with anxiety then, thinking she had come to her senses and wanted to stop – I was fully committed and wanted to fuck her silly. But she glanced at Paige, sleeping on the floor, and I realized she was just worried that we’d get caught. We both looked at the balcony at the same time and decided wordlessly that we would move out there.
She crept toward the door, taking my hand and pulling me along. Paige didn’t move at all as we slid the door open a crack, squeezed through and slid it closed again. Outside Traci took control: she grabbed my face in her hands and pulled me toward her. This Time our kiss was less frantic though we explored each other’s mouths with our tongues passionately. I groped her ass again for a minute and then went to slide my hand back up to her breast, but she stopped me.
“I believe you promised me something.” She grinned mischievously and then pushed my head down. At first I thought she wanted me to suck her tits but realized as she pushed further that she wanted me to eat her: to bring her off before we went any further. I knelt down and ran my hands up her thighs, then pressed my face to her panty-clad mons. I could hear the soft lap of the tide in the background, there was a slight warm breeze. I thrilled to the thought of exposing her to the world, even though it was the middle of the night and very dark. Slowly, I pulled both sides of the panties down in unison, exposing her almost shaved cunt to my eyes for the first time.
As I peeled the material down her hips and away from that magical “v” between her thighs, I noticed how wet she was, obviously as turned on as I. I felt a rush of excitement mixed with satisfaction. My best friend wanted as desperately to fuck me as I did her. But I noticed something else as well: the crotch of her panties, and her pussy for that matter, were sticky. Apparently I’d been mistaken – I’d assumed she’d blown Tim, and he’d passed out afterwards. In reality, they’d fucked and Tim had finished inside her, but not brought her off. A perverse thrill passed through me as I realized Traci knew this and she wanted me to eat her. She’d pushed my head down here for just this purpose. Not only to eat her used pussy, but to taste my best mate’s cum in the process. It was kinkier than anything I’d ever done, and I wanted to do it.
She stepped out of the panties that I’d pushed to her ankles, and lifted one leg, resting her foot on the bottom of the balcony rail. I moved my face to her thigh and licked my way inside towards her cunt. She shuddered and grabbed my head, forcing my face into her sloppy quim. I stuck my tongue out and pushed it between her lips, thrusting into her hole, intending to lick my way up to her clit. With the first thrust I could taste her cunt juice and the pungent salty flavor of Tim’s jizz. It was wetter than I imagined – and after a moment a fair amount rolled onto my face and lips as I tongue-fucked her.
She writhed in ecstasy as I ate her snatch, and finally squeezed her legs together for at least a half a minute, almost smothering me. Then she pulled at the top of my shirt frantically, begging me to stand up and fuck her.
“Oh fuck that was hot. Stick your cock in me. Fuck me.” She kissed my face, and licked the combined fuck juices from my chin and lips.
I unbuckled my jeans, let them fall, pushing my boxers after them, halfway down my thighs. Her fingers wrapped around my stiff prick, and she breathed out “ohh” as she started stroking up and down. I was impatient to feel her twat envelop my dick, and so I reached down and spread her lips, getting turned on once again by the sloppy, used feel of her box. My cock slid in easily and I fucked her hard, trying not to give in to the urge to jizz, trying not to think that I was fucking my best friend; that my dick was in her twat; that my other friend’s dick had filled that same place only a little while earlier with his cum. I somehow managed to hold out long enough to bring her off, and then let loose, my whole body tensing and my legs shaking as squirt after squirt from my cock sent waves of pleasure through me. After a moment, my cock softened a bit and I felt my cum slide out and down our thighs.
We rested against each other up against the wall, breathing heavily. Then she whispered in my ear: “You know you ate Tim’s cum from my pussy?”
Post-climax, I was far more concerned with the implications of that, and I might not have admitted it if not for the tone of her whisper, and the fact that I knew she’d wanted me to do it from the beginning. Still, I didn’t want to sound like I’d been thrilled to do it. So I responded honestly, but only saying: “Yeah.”
“That’s so fucking hot!” She pushed herself against me and shoved her tongue into my mouth again. Minutes later, we crept back inside to go to our respective spouses.
We left the next day, and so there wasn’t much chance to be alone and discuss what had happened. Neither Traci nor I were the kind to sneak around on our spouses or fuck our friends over, so it was awkward. It stayed that way the next few times we all met for drinks, though Tim and Melissa didn’t have a clue.
A couple weeks passed, and I spanked it constantly reliving our fuck; especially going down on her, then feeling guilty and shamed about the whole thing afterwards. Finally, I called Traci to go to lunch one day and she agreed. I was relieved that she’d said yes, but anxious about the impending conversation. I didn’t want to lose such a good friend, or allow all of the friendships between the four of us as couples to unravel, but there was something more: a hint of scintillation, not quite the possibility of a repeat, but just the acknowledgment of our tryst in the light of day, sober.
Unfortunately she had to cancel and I wondered for several days whether she was purposely avoiding me until I got a call from her, asking if I could come over to her house the next morning. She said Tim was leaving again and it would be a good time to talk. I could barely sleep that night, alternately filled with guilt, lying next to Melissa, and filled with lust, imaging the feel of Traci’s skin under my fingers and her tongue in my mouth.