When I made it back outside, Ginger was on the professor’s lap, wiggling her too-perfect bottom all over his groin. Her husband, Ben, was copping a feel of her full, round breasts through the bikini top. At that moment, I realized that despite my mental justifications, blaming the edibles and copious amounts of alcohol, I’d let Ben finger me the night we met because I was strongly attracted to him. My lusty desire didn’t stop at just that friend; quite a few of my masturbatory fantasies revolved around Ginger and me being more than friends and business associates.
I simply stared, licking my lower lip in horny envy. My mind was racing toward a torrid fantasy of being hunched down on all fours, with Ben pounding me doggie style while I licked Allison to multiple orgasms. Just then, manly arms wrapped around my torso, and I felt hard man flesh pressing into my buttocks. Being a good wife and even more turned-on than I had been, I ground my ass back against the erection with vigor, sighing and softly moaning.
“Look who finally made it,” Ben chuckled. “Good to see you, Gilligan.”
His comment elicited a playful slap from Ginger, and a preemptive look of warning from me, directed at both him and Mike.
“Go fire up the grill, boys,” I said. “We’ll just sit here and talk girl talk.”
“Oh, really?” Mike intoned. “About what?”
“Your sexy ass and how much we want to spank it,” Allison interjected before I could respond. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”
With the now-gleaming grill fired up, the smells of barbecuing food wafted to our nostrils. With growling, rumbling stomachs, Allison and I nibbled on my perfectly-prepared appetizers and talked business. Of course, since Allison kept her online adult activities a secret, we spoke in code.
”How are the ‘orders’ for my ‘new dress’ going with your marketing campaign?” I knew what she was talking about.
“Oh, great. We have a little over one hundred ‘pre-orders,’ thus far.”
"Awesome!" Ginger erupted.
“What?” the guys said in unison. We just laughed.
Finally, the food was prepared. Burgers and bratwurst, lots of side dishes, and alcohol flowed. The camaraderie we shared made the entire evening one of those times that you know is something special as it unfolds, but is far too precious to mention, lest you ruin the moment by drawing attention to it. The evening darkened to dusk, with a brilliant, full moon entering the panorama. As I’d hoped, the precise placement of the table let us continue our revelry without anyone being blinded by the setting sun.
As the mountains of food dwindled to molehills, we talked about everything and nothing. I was seated beside my husband, with Ginger across from me. All through dinner, my husband and I held hands. As we spoke, when I’d gesture with my arms, his hand would pop up over the table along with mine.
Allison eventually reached for the plastic-covered container they had brought. ”I made pot brownies,” she declared as she opened the plastic lid. Some semblance of brownies, slicked with brown icing, was revealed. Her presentation was not stellar, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Yummy,” Ben said, enthusiastically reaching for one. He turned to Mike, “Your home. With your permission, sir.”
My husband nodded.
”We indulge,” Ginger said to my husband, shaking out her shiny, red hair. “Since we’re getting to be such good friends, I figured, why bother to hide it? Plus, it’s legal.”
Hoping my husband wouldn’t mind, I reached into the plastic container and grabbed a nice, big brownie. Mike’s expression immediately soured when he saw me. He frowned upon me partaking of green herb for some reason. Although the attitude toward it had changed over the past few years, he still held it as taboo.
”Mary Anne, do you really think that you should...”
Knowing that he was going to chastise me, I’d already sprung into action. I pulled his hand, still clasped within mine, under my dress and pressed his fingers against my still-very-wet pussy. That made his words catch in his throat. I just looked at him and smiled broadly.
“Come on, tiger. You know how horny, dirty, and insatiable I get when I’m stoned.”
Ginger applauded, and Ben guffawed, robustly, saying, “Good show, Mary.”
“As I was saying,” Mike continued. “Do you really think that you should only have one?” My husband stood, dramatically, scooped up a second, smaller one, and plopped it on my plate.
Then he turned to Ginger. “Do these actually make you horny?”
She smiled seductively, nodding her head. “And so damn kinky, too.”
“Come on, Gilligan,” Ben chimed in. “Live a little with the peasantry. You know how the world is, now. Go green!”
My husband shrugged and grabbed one for himself. “When in Rome.”
Our conversation continued, with all of us having a fantastic time. We snacked, enjoying each other’s company, and, before I knew it, the horny arousal I’d been feeling all day had grown into a tingling, vibrating need that turned my entire body into an erogenous zone. Each touch of Mike’s hand elicited soft, cooing sighs, and everything that was said suddenly had erotic, sensual overtones. As the conversation drifted toward sex, the mental arousal matched then exceeded the horniness of my tingling body.
Somehow, we’d begun talking about movies and how sexuality seems to permeate them these days.
“Well,” Ben said, his tone both enthusiastic and professorially. “That’s nothing new. Most movies, and especially what we consider classic literature, are rife with sexual innuendo. In fact, one can almost always find a direct, albeit sometimes hidden, sexual message and theme woven through any story.”
“Oh, do tell, Professor,” I chided.
“No!” Ginger lamented. She turned to Ben, “Promise me you won’t go into lecture mode.”
“I don’t know,” my very stoned and giddy husband giggled. “I, for one, could use a good lecture on sex in literature.”
“Sure,” my redheaded friend conceded. “I’m horny as fuck. Let’s talk sex.”
Ben divided up the remaining pot brownie, quartering it, and offered us each a portion. “Pick a classic story or modern movie, and I’ll reveal the sometimes-hidden, but usually obvious, sexual theme.”
“Dracula!” Allison burst out, “Vampires make me wet.”
“Too easy.”
"Umm… Starship Troopers. The movie.”
Ben gave me an appreciative nod and a sly, lusty smile. “A grand challenge.” He grew pensive for a moment, then smiled.
He took a long draught of his wine, then began. “On the surface, it’s merely a science fiction story, part a story celebrating a unified stratocracy and the peace that it could bring to civilization, and partially a coming-of-age story—the privileged youth growing into a heroic man.”
His tone became authoritative without being pretentious, and his words flowed with confidence and the zeal that only someone passionate about the subject could adopt. It was quite sexy. Apparently, Ginger also felt that way. As he spoke, her hand descended, disappearing beneath the table. From the angle and the slow but steady movement of her arm, it appeared that she was caressing his cock.
Wide-eyed, I gave her a quizzical look, the bond between us asking the question, “Are you stroking him?” for me. Her response was an impish wink and a slight inclining of her head. We giggled, sharing the moment.
Ben continued. “However, if you look at how society is structured, from the onset of the film to its conclusion, you’ll see that sex and sexuality permeate every aspect. The men and women shower together, always just barely on the conservative side of being orgiastic to keep the rating at R-rated…”
Ben droned on, mesmerizing and entertaining, as well as opening my mind to aspects I hadn’t thought of. Not to be outdone by Allison, I grabbed Mike's hand and gently extended two of his fingers, the middle, and index. Then I shoved them into my drenched pussy, positioning his thumb over my clit. Our under-table play went unnoticed by Ben, but Ginger opened her mouth in fake dismay. She pursed her lips at me, then licked her lips, hungrily.
When my husband’s fingers found my sweet spots, I almost moaned out loud. Instead, I covered my noisy whimpers by chugging some wine.
“And.. now…we, ah, come to the love scenes,” Ben was saying. It was obvious to me that Ginger’s stroking had him worked up. “Where the hero beds the one that loves him. Even then, you see that sex is open and accepted as their commanding officer merely smirks.”
I was desperately trying to keep my moans and panting from revealing the sexual play under the table. My nipples hardened into steel, poking through the top of my dress, and it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming in bliss and thrusting my hips into my husband’s fingers as they fucked me.
His lines of logic re-wove the entire movie into an allegory of unrequited love and sexual desire. He even managed to draw a parallel between the bug-like aliens being symbolic of one’s guilt over their sexual desires, the entire plot suddenly clearly becoming symbolism for sex.
Ben’s voice grew more deliberate, somewhat strained. As he painted the contrast between the protagonist’s two love interests in a sexual light, his breathing became labored, and his chest heaved as he spoke. Still, he retained his composure.
