MENAGE A QUATRE: 36 Hours of Pleasure

by Rex Gordon

  Even as she began to sob, her fingers moved more rapidly, the way Brandon picked up speed when he made love to her. Yes, she would push them all the way inside.

  "Yes." It felt good, but if her mother saw her or heard about it? What would she think? "Oh, Yesssss."

  Leslie was touching her clitoris, massaging it, sliding it between her middle and index fingers. Sensations rippled through her, and they were stronger and more sensual than any she had experienced with Brandon. They made love on only a few occasions each month, and each time she was a failure. He always ... he always 'finished,' he called it. But she never finished, not once in her … not once in her … oh, God … not once in her life did she ever ...

  "Oh, Yes, yes, yes," she said, and she sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Oh, yes," she finished, like in those lovely dreams, she finished, and she started to cry.

  "I'm sorry, mother," she said, but she continued the slow stroking of her nether lips, and her pleasure overwhelmed her initial guilt.

  "I did it," she said aloud. "I did it. I did it."

  She flung open the bedroom door, but Judy was not there – just Rick, fully clothed with a paper bag in his hand.

  He glanced down the front of her body, and she slammed the bathroom door and hurried into her own room.

  What must he think of me?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JUDY

  "That Leslie has a hell of a body," Rick said, when Judy came back with fresh towels from the concierge.

  "I don't think she knew I was here, and she came in and her robe was wide open and—"

  "Oh, damn. I told her you went out for croissants."

  "Well, I'm back. I think you should go in and talk to her, because she turned the deepest shade of red I've ever seen on a human in my life. It was a giant step beyond scarlet."

  Judy, still wrapped in her thick, terrycloth robe after going downstairs, went into the adjoining room, where Leslie had the covers pulled all the way over her head.

  "What's the matter? Don't you think Rick's never seen a naked woman before?"

  "I'm so ashamed."

  "You shouldn't be. You've got a nice body. Come on, take your shower. We have to get to the Notre Dame before it's packed with tourists."

  Leslie flopped down the sheet and looked at Judy. "You mean you don't hate me? You'll let me go with you?"

  "Come you can have the bathroom first – and lock both doors! I don't want Rick popping in on you."

  "You're mad at me."

  "No. I'm just disappointed that I didn't see the look on your face."

  "Judy!"

  Judy smiled, did a little wave, and went into her own bedroom.

  ***

  RICK

  Rick couldn't get the image of the nearly naked Leslie out of his mind, and he could not stop thinking about how casual Judy had been about it.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't really mean to look," he said.

  "You wouldn't be much of a man if you didn't look."

  He frowned. She was almost laughing about it, but that was how Judy was. Everything about sex was fun. Sometimes, she was laughing even as she came. It was one of the great things about her.

  "Brandon's not here. I'll fix you up with her."

  "You sure are a smart ass."

  "You think so, huh?" She lifted her terrycloth robe and her gown, and she shook her butt at him. "Want to have a little fun while she takes her shower?"

  "Absolutely," Rick said.

  ***

  "You're not going to wear that shirt are you?" Judy said.

  "You know it's my favorite."

  "Lions and tigers and bears are bad enough, but dragons on a sports shirt is going to show you off as a tourist like nothing else can."

  "How about the fact that none of us speak French."

  "Touche – which is just about the extent of my French."

  There was a weak tapping on the door between the two rooms.

  "Come in," Judy said.

  The door opened very quietly, and Leslie slipped inside. "Rick, I'm sorry. I really am sorry about, you know, coming in almost naked."

  "Maybe Rick can do you the same favor sometime," Judy said.

  "Oh, Judy." Leslie smirked, but she could not look at Rick.

  "Don't worry about it. I like that halter."

  "Do you think it's warm enough?"

  "Sure it is. You have a jacket. I'm just wearing this blouse, but I have a bra. And Dragon chest over here is wearing that shirt he picked up from some guy on the street."

  "It was a clothing stand," Rick said.

  "Yes, used clothes from God knows where or what time period. Are we all ready?"

  "All set," Rick said.

  "I'm raring to go!" Leslie said, but her heart did not seem to be in it.

  Judy did a double take on Leslie, and she frowned. "Leslie, if you're going to wear that halter, you are not going to wear a bra under it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Get right back in there and take your bra off."

  Leslie blushed, but she went back into her room.

  "You don't have to be so tough with her."

  "It'll do her good. It'll make her feel sexy. You go downstairs. We'll meet you in the lobby."

  "What?"

  "Go ahead. This is going to be girl talk."

  "Women," Rick muttered to himself and stepped into the hall.

  "Good morning, monsieur," said the cute little maid pushing her dolly of sheets and towels through the hall.

  "And a good morning to you too," he said.

  She smiled back as he climbed onto the elevator.

  "Good morning, monsieur," said the sexy, blonde hotel manager when the elevator door opened.

  "Bon jour," he said, probably sounding like some stage comedian trying to speak French. Rick had heard much about how the French were rude to Americans, but so far, he had run into none of that. From the corner of his eye, he watched the petite blonde.

  "Have a good day," she said in English, as he allowed her to leave the elevator first.

  "And a good day to you too," he said.

  He stopped in his tracks and watched the way the narrow hips of the hotel manager shifted gently from side to side as she crossed to the reception desk. The French sure knew about sex, he thought, but he was embarrassed when she turned and caught him looking at her. She raised her nose, and went into her office. It made him feel like a dirty old man.

  Until now, Rick had never felt unfaithful to Judy by just looking at other women. But after she talked to him last night about Leslie, he was beginning to feel a guilty nagging desire to fuck every good-looking woman he saw; first the maid, then the manager. He had looked at women before and thought I'd like to fuck that. Until now, they were always just passing thoughts that never stayed with him. This thought was hanging on.

  He looked out through the door and into the narrow one-way street. He was amazed at how beautiful the Parisian women were, but none were as attractive as Judy. Maybe none compared to Leslie either; not even Leslie, after he had seen her walk out of the bathroom this morning, but she might be a close second. He was still looking through the glass of the door when two hands gripped his butt.

  At first he thought it was Judy. He realized he was only half right when both she and Leslie giggled and stepped to either side of him.

  "I can't believe I did that," Leslie said.

  "Neither will your mother," Judy said.

  "I don't believe it either," Rick said.

  On the narrow sidewalk, he heard the two women laughing and giggling behind him. He was nervous on their long walk down to the quay, and across the bridge to Isle de Paris. He thought they might grab him again. Maybe he hoped it would happen.

  He had heard them giggle together when he first met Judy. But that was before Leslie married Brandon Shane, the hotshot young attorney who many thought might be mayor of Wilmington someday, or maybe even a senator or congressman from Delaware.

  They giggled even as they stepp
ed into the church, and Rick was not just nervous, but embarrassed.

  "Shhh," he said.

  "Shhh, yourself," Judy said, and she grabbed his crotch.

  While he admired the medieval beauty of the church, they were chattering away in whispers. He thought he heard them repeating the word "fuck" back and forth, as if Judy were teaching the word to Leslie. Once, they even spelled it.

  When he could stand the embarrassment no longer, he led them from the church and onto the plaza.

  "I say we go get something to eat," Judy said.

  "And drink," Leslie said.

  "I wish you girls would behave yourselves."

  "Me?" Judy said.

  "Yes, you."

  "And I suppose Leslie is just an old goodie-goodie."

  "Not so old," Rick said.

  He had no choice but to tag along. On one narrow street where no traffic was permitted, he moved between them on the cobblestones.

  "What's gotten into you girls?"

  "Not enough, that's for sure," Judy said, and Leslie giggled.

  Rick moved past, then ahead of them, and Judy hurried to his side. "Don't be so grouchy," she said. "You are going to have one hell of a time this afternoon."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think Leslie is ready."

  "For what?"

  Now, it was Judy who giggled. She looked over at Leslie and said, "What do you think? Should he be ready for us?"

  Rick glanced back, to see Leslie's shy smile. Her coat was open, and the warm spring breeze was blowing against her breasts in the halter. For just a moment, Leslie brought her hand to the bodice of the halter. In that same moment, Rick thought she was going to expose her breasts. She turned red, pulled her jacket tight, and buttoned it.

  "I need some wine," Judy said.

  "Me too," said Leslie.

  "How about if we go visit that neat guy in that little bistro."

  "The place that the goatee owns? Oh, yes," Leslie said.

  "I'm beginning to think I should have come on this vacation alone," Rick said.

  "You won't after we get through with you," Judy hinted, and danced ahead of him and into the little bistro.

  It was just after noon, and the tables in the little bistro near the hotel were crowded with tourists and locals. It was easy to tell which were which, because the tourists in general were at the smaller tables, and the locals crowded around the larger ones, or stood at the bar to eat their sandwiches and drink their noon wine.

  "Ah, it is good to see you again," said the proprietor, whose name was Armand.

  He was tall and built well, but he did not seem very good-looking or sexy to Rick, but Rick was a guy, what did he know about the looks or sexiness in other guys.

  "I have saved this place for you," he said, and he gestured to the linen covered table, with a vase of tulips as a centerpiece. Somehow the yellow tulips accented Judy's red blouse and Leslie's outfit of black jacket and skirt with white halter top. There was already a carafe of the house's red wine on the table,

  Armand poured the wine, which Rick thought was fine. When Armand took their order and returned behind the counter, Judy giggled across the table at Leslie.

  "You women are a pain in the ass when you act like teenagers."

  "Aren't we though," Judy said. "Will you please stroke my kitty cat?" It was the term they used when they first got married.

  "In here? Are you crazy?"

  "Wuss."

  "Judy, stop it," he said.

  "Wussy, wussy, wussy," she said.

  "It's called a 'pussy,'" Leslie said, like a little girl who had just learned something she wanted to share.

  Leslie giggled and Rick was even more embarrassed.

  "What do you think?" Judy said to her friend.

  "He's a pussy if he doesn't do it."

  Rick could not believe what was happening here. His wife of three years had spent most of the morning embarrassing him in front of her friend. Yet in his embarrassment, he remembered their conversation of last night about a threesome with Leslie, and his cock forced its way against the black chino material of his trousers.

  He glanced at Leslie, and Judy slid her hand across his thigh and gripped his cock. Pre-come was already sticking to his shorts, and he thought he was going to dump the whole load right there in the bistro.

  "Can you see how big and hard it is?" she said to Leslie.

  "Leslie still seemed shy, but she was no longer blushing. She leaned her head back to get a look at Rick's lap.

  "See?" Judy said.

  "You're right. It is big."

  "Bigger than Brandon's?"

  "I don't know. I've never looked at Brandon's."

  Rick and Judy both stared at her.

  "I mean, I keep my eyes closed ... I mean—" She cut off her words, and downed her wine in three quick swallows. Judy refilled her glass.

  "Stop teasing her," Rick said.

  Leslie emptied the second glass of wine as quickly as the first. There was no more in the carafe. Armand stepped to the table and tried to refill the carafe, but Judy waved him away.

  "Would you like to take these sandwiches with you," Armand said, with his very slight accent.

  "No. We'll just gobble them down," Judy said. "Won't we, Leslie."

  "Gobble, gobble."

  Judy started to push her own full glass of the house wine across the table. Rick had the feeling that the wine had gone straight to Leslie's brain, and he tried to stop Judy, but Judy slapped his fingers and pushed the glass even closer to Leslie.

  "I'll take it with me," Leslie said.

  The giggling grew more intense and they were attracting the attention of other customers. When Armand brought their sandwiches, Rick thought Armand would ask them to be quiet, but all he said was, "Enjoy the wine, the meal, and anything else you have in mind for later."

  When they returned to the hotel, Leslie went into the bathroom she shared with them and closed the door. Rick did not hear the click of the lock.

  "What do you think? Do you want to fuck her?" Judy giggled, as she had with Leslie, but Judy had barely a taste of the wine.

  "Come on, stop this teasing crap."

  Judy stepped closer to him, bringing her lips to his. She felt her taut nipples brush through the material of her own blouse and his shirt, and his cock started to rise again.

  She kissed him lightly on the lips. Then she tilted her head and smiled. "Who says I'm just teasing?"

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LESLIE

  Leslie's head was spinning, but she couldn't be drunk on just two glasses of wine – or was it three? Nevertheless, she was having all kinds of weird, sexual thoughts. She wanted to make love first with Rick, than with the tall, good-looking Armand. She was angry with Brandon and she was horny.

  "Horny?" she said aloud, and she frowned at herself in the bathroom mirror. That word had sped through her mind many times, yet she had avoided dwelling on it. To dwell on it was to acknowledge that Brandon had never satisfied her sexually, although he had often pleased her with his attentions.

  He tried to satisfy her, didn't he? Or didn't he care about her at all?"

  She took off her jacket and folded it on the closed toilet seat and studied herself in the mirror. The halter, which crossed her breasts and tied in the back, was all she was wearing under the jacket; the jacket had hidden the way her nipples occasionally popped out against the material.

  Leslie's breasts were hard and perfectly shaped. Although her aureoles were small, her nipples were nearly an inch long. When she was making love with Brandon, they jutted out like fingertips. He nibbled on them occasionally, but liked when he made love to her, he never did it long enough or gentle enough or hard enough when she wanted it done hard. Worse than that, he didn't do it nearly often enough.

  If she made love to Rick, as Judy said she could, she would know what it was like with another man, and perhaps she would know what was missing?

  No! She did not want to know what she was mi
ssing. If she knew, then her entire marriage was a waste, and Brandon might as well run away with that bitch secretary of his.

  I'm better looking than she is, Leslie thought. I'm twice as good looking, and I'm built better, no matter how big her t – no matter how big her breasts are.

  She slipped her hand under her skirt and stroked her mound, with pubic hairs jabbing through the nylon of her panties.

  There was a tapping at the door, and she quickly moved her hand away as Judy pushed inside.

  "I see you're getting the hang of it."

  "No. No, I wasn't—"

  "Sure you were. Are you ready for Rick?"

  "You're not serious about this."

  "Of course I am. The fact that you want to fuck him has nothing to do with him and me being in love."

  "But—"

  "No 'buts,'" Judy said. "The fact that you want to fuck him, and he wants to fuck you makes everything perfect."

  She was still light headed, and maybe she was not even hearing what she thought she was hearing. It could be all be a product of her own ... "Wishful thinking," she muttered.

  "What?" Judy said.

  "I ... was ... just thinking out loud."

  "Do you want to strip for him, or do you want to go in there naked?"

  "Oh, Judy, I don't think I'm ready for this."

  The wine she carried from the bistro, was on the vanity sink.

  "You really did like watching us last night, didn't you?"

  "I surely did. Yes, I did. Yes," Leslie said.

  She brought the wine to her lips and emptied it. Then, almost by reflex, her fingers were moving under her skirt again. She was touching herself, stroking herself, trying to recapture the pleasure of orgasm she had experienced earlier this morning.

  Judy raised her eyebrows.

  "Oh, damn. What am I doing?"

  "Getting yourself ready for Rick."

  "You're sure you talked about it."

  "Yes, we have," Judy said, laughing. "And he said he would just love to fuck you."

  "He would? I thought he loved you, I thought— "

  "I'm not talking about love. I told you that. I'm talking about fucking, and I want to watch you fuck."

  That word and the others were so alien to her, that they frightened her, yet they were exciting too.

  "Go out there and tease the hell out of him first," Judy said.