“I can’t wait,” I said with a grin.
“Well, you’re going to have to. I’m nude at the moment, and very comfortable in this bath. Although…” She turned and pulled the drain plug.
Then she started the hot water. “Oh, no fair,” she gasped when I began teasing her pussy from behind. Her breathing grew heavier. “This is one of those times,” she said at last, “when I really wish I could get my stupid head to agree with the rest of me.”
“Oh?”
“I really, really want to feel you do me from behind. Like, right now.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“But I’ve been drinking, and that’s against your rules. Still,” she sighed,
“you’re probably right.”
“Are you sure?” the little head said through my mouth. “I mean, we could always—” I stopped and blinked in disbelief.
Christy actually laughed. She pulled away from my probing fingers and sat facing me. “That was him, wasn’t it? Mr. Big?”
“Um… maybe.”
“You’re so cute when you’re caught.” She slid toward me and captured my hard-on as she tilted her face up for a kiss. “I love you and your penis,”
she said. “But he needs to learn to be patient. He’s as bad as Wren.”
“Worse.”
“You’re probably right. But I have more influence over him.” She squeezed and stroked gently. “And I know what’ll keep him happy until I’m ready to give him what he really wants.” She kissed me again. “Until then… I think I’m going to explode if you don’t finish telling me your story.”
She released me, replaced the drain stopper, and let the tub fill almost to the top again. Then she faced me and sank up to her nose in the water.
“My little Naiad.”
She pushed herself up a bit. “I am. And just for your information, you can get me to do almost anything in water. I dunno why, but I’ve always had fantasies about the bath, the pool, the ocean, you name it. That’s why I was so interested when you told me about the quarry lake at the camp. I’m so hot-natured that I don’t care how cold the water is. So I really wanna do it in the lake.” She looked at me expectantly and made a go-on gesture. “Note to self…”
“Right,” I laughed, “note to self. In the meantime, okay if I finish my story?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay, where was I?” I paused to gather my thoughts. “So, our parents are swingers. Gina’d known all along what they were up to, but I’ve always been a bit clueless.”
“That’s what Erin said.”
“Well, she’s right. Still, once I figure something out, I usually run with it.”
“Like when you figured out I wasn’t so pure and innocent, and you started to really corrupt me.”
“I think you were fairly well corrupted before I figured it out. That sounds bad, but you know what I mean.”
Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she nodded.
“Anyway, back to my story. Once I figured out what our parents were up to, I wanted to do the same thing.”
“So you seduced Kendall and added her to your harem.”
“More or less,” I agreed. “We had some pretty wild adventures.” I told
her about some, although I purposefully left out the part about our family parties. Still, I didn’t want to underestimate her (again), so I hedged my bets and added, “We fooled around with other swingers at camp, but—”
“Are there a lot?”
“Not really. I’d say… less than a quarter of the visitors at any given time.
Maybe six or seven couples out of thirty-five or forty families. There may be more, though. I don’t know them all. Only the ones my parents or Gina’s partied with.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. They probably don’t wear signs.”
“Um… no.”
“What did you do when you weren’t at the camp? Kendall lived in Chattanooga, right?”
“Well, Gina and I fooled around with a few friends at school.”
Christy’s eyebrows rose at that.
“One of my best friends and his girlfriend, Scott and Shannon, and Gina’s best friend, Heather. She’s the one I think might be an actual porn star.”
“Maybe you can tell me that story later?”
“Just remind me.”
She nodded.
“Anyway, Gina and I introduced a few of our closest friends to our lifestyle, although not really. We didn’t tell them how… um… organized it is.”
“Do you go to clubs or something? Put ads in the back of those magazines? Oh, please! Don’t look at me like that. I know about clubs and magazines.”
“Lemme guess,” I said dryly, “Brooke again?”
“You should thank her, you know. I wouldn’t be nearly as open-minded if I hadn’t met her. I’d’ve listened to Sister Prune and been a chaste, virtuous, devout little Catholic. I’d’ve been miserable too, but that’s beside the point.”
“Then I’ll have to thank her when I meet her.”
“Who? Sister Prune?” She snorted. “Oh… wait. You meant Brooke.”
“Mmm hmm.”
She rolled her eyes but squeezed and stroked my cock. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can tell. Well, if you play your cards right…”
I grinned.
“For the record, it also bugs me that your ‘nefarious plan’ is working. I mean, you’re getting everything you want.”
“And you aren’t?”
“I didn’t say that. It just… feels like you’re winning. And you know I hate losing.”
“It isn’t a game. No one’s keeping score.”
“I am. It’s thirty to six, your favor.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah,” she said after a moment, “I know what you mean. It’s the same thing you told Wren, ‘Real people with real lives.’”
“She told you about that?”
“She tells me everything. Well, except the big things, like the fact that you’re a swinger. Remind me to wring her neck when we get home.”
“Will do,” I chuckled.
“But keep going with your story. What happened with your high school swinger friends?”
“Nothing, really. I mean, they weren’t actually swingers. Yeah, we fooled around with them and traded partners a couple of times, but never like real swingers. And to answer your earlier question: no, we don’t go to clubs or put ads in magazines. It’s a lot more informal. We have a small circle of friends—”
“Like Wren and Trip, Leah and Mark, et cetera.”
“Exactly.” (I resisted the urge to tell her it was “et al.” instead of “et cetera.” You only use “et cetera” for things, not for people. But I digress. Ad nauseam.)
“What about Erin?”
I hid my nervousness and said, “What about her?”
Christy grinned. “I like talking to you when I’m holding your penis. I can always tell when you’re scared or hiding things. Like now. You don’t want to tell me about Erin. She’s part of the group, isn’t she?”
I thought about it and then nodded. But was I ready to admit everything?
To share my deepest, darkest fantasies? Fortunately, Christy herself saved me from that little conundrum.
“I thought she must be,” she said. “Wren dropped a couple of hints. Erin too. She almost gave it away completely when she invited me to spend New Year’s with your family. She came up with some lame excuse about ‘silly games,’ though.”
“Holy crap! You really do remember everything, don’t you?”
“Where you’re concerned? Yes. Everything. And don’t you forget it,
mister.”
“Note to self…,” I said seriously.
“Besides, Erin was way too interested in our sex life, yours and mine. It was more than just sisterly friendship. I know what that’s like from Marianne and Sabrina. Lynne too, now that I mention it. We talk about our sex lives, but only in general terms. ‘We like this.’ ‘We do that.’ Or ‘have you tried so-and-so?’ Things like that. But with Erin it was like… she was interviewing me or something. Like, would I fit in with the group?”