Though Charles found the news that John Carter and his wife had joined in some kind of sex thing with the Peterson's, he wasn't terribly interested in joining. But he did think that a woman's pinochle party was a great idea. Of course, he would.
"Maybe you can convince Jenny to leave her windows open," he suggested from between her legs. "And lend me her binoculars." Then he pushed her legs wider and lapped his tongue up along her labia to her clit, sending the already gasping woman over the edge so that her legs closed in the spasm of her climax. Charles had already cum, the evidence drying on her chest, and he returned the favor four-fold.
"I'll ask," she said. "Oh, God, honey. You'd better stop. I don't want it to start tickling and ruin it."
He pulled himself up on top of his wife to kiss her before rolling off to her side. "Good," he said. "I was about to get a cramp in my tongue."
#
Emily's reaction was a bit different.
"What? Oh, no. Hell no!" she exclaimed as she sat across Patty's kitchen table on Monday morning. "And she saw us? Oh, hell, that's all I need."
Emily had spent Sunday fretting about her daughter and what she should do about her sneaky perversions. Elaine, her lively 18 year-old, redheaded daughter, had been spying on her parents. Emily had seen her watching her father masturbate-and the only reason she didn't go ballistic on her then was because she didn't want to embarrass Robert with that knowledge. But then she'd discovered that Elaine had shot video of Patty going down on Emily, as well as taking a video of her parents making love, she became beside herself with worry. What was that girl up to? Was she sick?
She wanted to find a way to stop her activities without Robert or her son, Danny, finding out. Why had her daughter turned out to be such a perv?
All day Sunday, Emily could barely look at her daughter and probably didn't speak more than a dozen words to her. How could she?
Now she found out that Jenny Peterson had seen her and Patty and watched them like a TV show. Damn! At this rate, Robert was bound to find out about her girl on girl action. Damn that girl, and damn her for allowing herself to fall into this mess.
"I should never have done this," she said then. "I mean, you and me, watching you from your yard, all of that. It's a slippery slope. I'm so embarrassed."
"Did you have fun?"
"A person shouldn't have to feel this guilty for fun," Emily snapped. "And being with a woman. I shouldn't have given in."
"I didn't twist your arm, girl."
"No, I meant give into my own evil urges. Not you."
"I don't see the problem," Patty said then. "I don't imagine you have to pile onto a lesbian group grope if you don't want to, but you definitely can't play pinochle without at least four people. We'd need you for that much."
"Lesbian. Oh God, I'm not, really, am I?" Emily felt a surge of sorrow inside and fought the urge to cry. "I'm so bad."
"Don't be a dope," Patty said, feeling a bit pissed just then. "Don't lick pussy if you don't want to. Just stick around for dildo fun. I don't see what the big deal is. I mean, Robert seemed to get off on it the other night. Didn't he?"
"Oh, yes, he certainly did," Emily admitted, tears coming even closer now. "But . . ."
"But?" Patty stared at her friend. What hadn't he liked about watching her and Charles screwing through their bedroom window. Why was . . . oh, that was it. "You haven't told him about us," Patty said. "He doesn't know."
"No, he doesn't." Emily admitted, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand. "I just don't know how to tell him, Patty. I don't know what he'll think of me."
An exasperated sigh escaped Patty's lips then. "He'll want to watch, you idiot. If he's willing to go window peeping with you and let you suck him off in a neighbor's yard then you know he's not a total stuck-up prude. Hell, he's your husband. You should know what gets him off."
"But I'm better than that," Emily said. "I'm a mother."
"I'm not better?" Patty snapped. "Christ, I'm a mother, too." She stood then and walked to the sink to rinse out her cup. She didn't trust herself to say any more just then and gave herself time to settle down.
Emily saw the pain in her friend's eyes as she stood, and she immediately moved up behind her and circled her with her arms. "I'm sorry," she said, kissing the back of Patty's neck. "I didn't mean us. I mean that Robert would think I'm better. You know, I don't want to disappoint him."
Patty leaned back against Emily as the other woman stroked her hands down lightly over her breasts and held her closely around her stomach. She savored the perfume tinted warmth of another woman every bit as much as the brawny sexuality of a man.
"Well, you'll have to tell him sometime, and the sooner the better." Patty turned then, kissing Emily's cheek, and Emily returned her kisses.
"Do you want to play cards?" Patty whispered into the main of Emily's auburn hair.
"Oh, yes," Emily sighed. "I can't help it anymore. I might as well enjoy my slide down the slippery slope."
#
Emily didn't tell Robert anything. She glared at Elaine all day Sunday and sat alternating between worry about her own behavior and anger about Elaine.
Seeing how tense she was, Robert suggested that a night with the neighbor ladies was probably a good idea. "It would help you relax," he said.
That comment made her feel so guilty about how she was behaving that she dragged him into their master bathroom and sucked his cock right after supper. She didn't allow any foreplay or allow him to return the favor in any way, but knelt to blow him as she imagined a whore might do. She wanted to find some way to make things better without turning it into a pleasant reward for herself.
Of course, when she felt the warm spurt of his cum in her mouth, she couldn't help a thrill of feeling in her groin. It always turned her on to give him pleasure.
#
Robert spent Sunday with his own worries. He had greatly enjoyed watching the neighbor's screw, and the illicit thrill of screwing his wife in their yard while watching the show was beyond any thrill he'd ever had. But that was the problem. The thrill.
When he was a young man, he used to enjoy watching the neighbors through their windows. It wasn't always easy to get a look, of course, but he usually saw enough between the curtains or under the blinds to get off. Thinking back now, he couldn't begin to count the number of yards where he'd left traces of his DNA. He had especially enjoyed seeing the neighborhood mothers in action. Seeing the other side of his friends' staid mothers and then seeing them the next day, fully clothed and in full mom mode was great. And now his wife had taken him back to that thrill.
He was beyond that now, wasn't he? He was an officer at the bank, a respected member of the community. He could chalk up the incident watching the Trents to his heightened arousal last night, but he hoped that he'd never be as weak as that again. He couldn't afford to be caught in such behavior.
Still, what would he see if he took a turn around the neighborhood? He wondered about the Carters and the Adams women. Pregnant women. That was another thrill he'd tried to put behind him.
And what about Emily? Their sex had always been good, but she'd always been a very proper lady aside from the bedroom. He would never have imagined her peeking, even if she was invited. What had caused her to change?