Carol had called and asked if she could come over. I had not seen her for several days.
It was early evening. I had spent the day writing. I was tired, hungry and horny.
I welcomed Carol’s call. The thought of exploring her body once again had been rumbling around in the back of my mind all day.
“I’d love to see you. Come on over.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, “and I’d like some food, too.”
Carol laughed. She knew what I meant.
“Understood,” she said.
I put away my books and papers, and did a quick cleaning of the place. Then I took a shower, put on a clean T-shirt and my work-out pants, omitting any underwear, and a pair of old loafers. I didn’t want to be fumbling with belts, zippers, shoes, socks, and other impediments later on. And when I got hard, as I surely would, I didn’t want anything obscuring my erection from Carol’s wandering eyes.
I pulled back the curtain and opened the sliding door.
Carol was not alone.
She had the pizza, two large bottles of coca-cola, and a bottle of rum. And she had Jill.
I did not know Jill. Carol introduced us and we shook hands.
Carol just does not call, ask to come over and bring another woman with her. Something was brewing. I had my hopes, but was not sure.
Jill was about five years younger than Carol, tall and blonde, with an especially long, plain face, big brown eyes, an extended, prominent nose which was bent ever so slightly to one side, and a noticeable scar that ran through one eyebrow, splitting it in two. She was also very thin; ribs prominently showing thin.
She was not the beauty Carol was; yet there was a sensuality about her that made her attractive. She moved in slow motion, and flowed through the open door. A slight smile, a delicate look of lust, and a deep, extended gaze into my eyes, took me by surprise, and I stepped back to let her pass.
Jill had on a summer version of a white low-cut, cable-knit sweater, with short sleeves, and tight, faded jeans. Her blonde hair was parted on the side and hung pretty much straight down, in thin bands, over her shoulders. To me, it looked like she had just washed her hair, let it dry on its own, and had yet to run a comb or brush through it.
Carol wore a T-shirt, with her nipples prominently displayed, and dark blue shorts.
Like Carol, Jill appeared to be wearing no makeup.
Jill was also nicely tanned, making Carol and I look whiter than we probably were.
I quickly became aware of Jill’s other physical attributes as she walked passed me and stepped into my apartment.
Despite her tall, lanky figure, Jill had a nice ass; the kind you want to run your hands over and squeeze.
And, she had big, firm tits that were at least two or three sizes too big for her frame.
As we sat at the dining room table, ate pizza, and drank rum cokes, I learned more.
Jill and Carol had met about a year before I had met Carol. They lived in the same apartment complex, but almost at opposite ends.
Jill had been a high school history teacher in New York who eventually wanted to teach at the college level. She obtained a master’s degree while she was teaching, but had left her job to pursue a doctorate degree.
Shortly after she began work on her degree, she met Bill, an instructor in another academic department. The two had been dating ever since. Bill also lived at the same apartment complex.
Carol made the drinks, and did not spare the rum. Mine was mostly booze with a little coke mixed in for color. I hoped that she was making her and Jill’s drink just as strong.
As we ate, Carol led the discussion, and soon began to explain Jill’s presence.
Jill’s boyfriend was away for the summer. While this gave Jill time to work on her degree, much like I was doing at the time, there wasn’t much else to do in the little college town during the summer months. Jill and Carol would often eat together, shop, watch TV, talk and drink. They had been hanging out together the whole day, and Carol thought it would be nice for Jill to meet Mike, and vice-verse, and to invite Jill to join us for pizza and drinks.
I listened to Carol, but my mind wandered off as I thought about why Carol had really brought Jill with her, and the possibility of a special night of sex.
Carol’s next comment startled me out of my thoughts.
“I showed Jill the video tape we made.”
There it was. Carol’s matter-of-fact statement, unrelated to the Jill story she had been telling, came out of nowhere, and had placed the subject of sex squarely on the table for all to see.
I looked at Carol with curiosity, even admiration and fascination, to see how she was going to proceed now that she had tossed out for discussion what I hoped was the real topic of the evening.
“I showed Jill the video tape,” she said again, maybe thinking that I had not heard her the first time.
Jill looked at me for a reaction.
“How much of it did you see?” I asked Jill.
“All of it, I think,” was her reply, smiling and looking at Carol for confirmation.
My mind was racing with thoughts of what was on the tape.
“All of it... and we watched it three times,” Carol indicated with a little smile.
“I liked it,” Jill added.
“Was it an academy award performance?” I asked, trying to inject some humor into an edgy moment.
“Was there a reason for watching it?” I asked, not waiting for an answer to my performance question.
“We were horny,” was Carol’s quick and blunt response.
“And…?” I inquired, not knowing what else I should do or say.
“It made us even hornier,” Jill indicated. The two laughed.
Carol got up to make more drinks. My eyes followed her across the room, watching her tits wobble around, and looking for any clue as to what we should do next; what I was to do.
“Really, I liked it,” Jill said as she leaned forward to assure me that it was okay that Carol had shown her the tape.
On the way back to the table, Carol unloaded her next bomb.
“Jill liked your cock.”
I had only appeared on the video in two places. On separate occasions, half a day apart, Carol had given me a hand job with the camera focused on my manhood and her hand and fingers grasping my pole. Both times, I had unloaded a significant amount of cum. And, on both occasions, Carol had slowly removed her cream covered hand from my manhood as we recorded just my rigid shaft, standing tall, with white goo oozing out of the little slit and running down the thick stick.
Jill only smiled, jiggled her foot nervously, and nodded her head in the affirmative, indicating that what Carol had said was true.
“Look, we’re all adults,” Carol said, followed by a few seconds of silence, and then the third bomb.
“She wants to see your cock.”
This time, Jill looked down at the floor and said nothing.
I didn’t know what to say.