Ben did not have long to wait for an answer. It arrived shortly before dinner. To his relief, Christine did not appear to be too upset about his betrayal. Her text read:
To Ben: - “E. could not stop talking about the wild sex she had this afternoon. She wanted to make me envious. She did!! She also told me about the extra photos you have of us. Please, transfer all of them to our Pad. Telling E. about our secret was naughty, but I’ll get even. Will show her the photos tomorrow morning on the computer, before her shift, with no people around. She will see what fun you and I had on the bed!!? Sweet revenge! C.”
After dinner, Ben downloaded both of the desired folios to Christine’s and Erika’s Pad. In the text, Ben wrote:
To Cristine: - “Attached are your folios. Hope you like yours. E. got very stirred up and aroused by your sexy dress, especially in the shot where you lounge on the bed. I wish I could be there tomorrow morning and watch when E. looks at the complete(!!) bedside folio. Hope you forgive me for not keeping it a secret. But should there be secrets between us three? B.”
To this question came no reply, and Ben went somewhat disappointed to bed. But next morning, his iPad pinged, and two texts required an immediate response. The exchange that followed answered unequivocally the queries Ben had harboured about his relationship with Erika and Christine:
To Ben: - “She must lend me that dress!! E.”
To Ben: - “I will not, unless … C.”
To Christine: - “Unless what?? B.”
To Ben: - “Unless she lends me in exchange her sexy undies, and … C.”
To Christine: - “And what?? B.”
To Ben: - “We wear it while we are together on the bed with you!!? C.”
To Erika: - “And you agree? B.”
To Ben: - “After sharing this sinful dress and these sexy undies, we naughty sisters have agreed to share, from now on, EVERYTHING! E.&C.”
To Erika & Christine: - “How could I ever resist you, especially combined!!! When?? B.”
To this question, Ben did not expect an answer. Christine did not give him the usual wave in passing the office on his way down for breakfast. Grinning broadly, she brought both hands up to her lips and sent him a kiss. Surprised, Ben gave her a feeble wave which made Christine break out in laughter.
As it was early, there was only one couple at breakfast, and their table was at the other end of the room. When Erika served him, she stood even closer than last time. When her hip nudged his arm, Ben moved his hand up between her thighs until his thumb pressed onto Erika’s pussy. Without looking up, he murmured, “I loved your sexting this morning. See what it does to me.”
In reply, Erika bent over to refill Ben’s cup. One breast came to rest on his cheek, and Erika’s thighs closed firmly with a rubbing caress over Ben’s marauding hand.
On his way back to his room, Christine waved Ben into the office. She thanked him, first, for transferring the complete folios to their iPad. When she told him how much she liked all the photos he had taken, she asked Ben why his photography was so good. He replied that he had some training and had, as an amateur photographer, exhibited his work.
But then, embarrassed about boasting, he laughed and added, “But with two such beautiful, sexy, naughty sisters, how could I fail?”
For a moment, Christine hesitated before she said, “Erika and I have always known that we are not ugly and that men wanted to get their hands on us. But, until we saw these photos, we had no idea what we could be for a man that loves and desires us like you.”
A blush had crept on Christine’s face. It stayed there as she changed the subject and told Ben that she would accompany them tomorrow on the weekend excursion to Gerd’s hunting shack. She was interested, Christine said, about the rebuilding he and his mates were planning.
Gerd had not been keen on her coming along. Christine gave Ben a mischievous side-way glance and asked, “You are not upset that it is no longer a boys-only outing, are you?”
*
On Saturday morning, with Erika left in charge of the hotel, Ben and Christine joined Gerd in his Mercedes for the hour’s drive up to the valley. Gerd’s friends would join them on site.
Christine turned in her front seat for most of the drive to talk with Ben in the back. Gerd needed to concentrate on the narrow, winding road. While she told him about the opening-up of an additional ski-resort in the side-valley, the conflicting interests, and the politicking, her laughing eyes and tempting lips told a parallel tale. Christine, leaning back over her seat, was no longer just flirting.
When they arrived, the builder and friends were waiting. Gerd unlooked the door. The hut, solidly built with log walls and weatherproof windows and doors, had two large rooms. The front was furnished with a stove, a corner bench, chairs, a large table and a massive 19th Century credenza for supplies and utensils. The sleeping room adjoining was utilitarian. It had a raw board bench along one wall and a raised, eight-foot-deep platform along the opposite one. It was covered with thick hessian matting and could accommodate eight or – on a squeeze – ten sleepers. There was a pile of army blankets in one corner.
Christine had brought blankets from the hotel. While the men stayed outside, talking about the rebuilding task, Christine and Ben took their provisions inside. The foods’ place was a given. With the bedding, it got interesting. Ben placed his blankets at the platform’s end close to the wall, adding his backpack and tracksuit as a pillow. Christine watched and smiled. She spread out Gerd’s and her blankets.
And then, smiling at Ben with the tip of her tongue showing, Christine placed her pillow and tracksuit right next to his. Shifting Gerd’s bedding further away, she grinned at Ben, “I’ll be safe here, won’t I? Sleeping between the two loves of my life!”
At lunchtime, with the repast of ryebread, cheese and salami, the Schnapps-bottles appeared. As hunters and proud locals, the men had brought no other drinks into the mountain. Traditionally, the seventy per cent proof Schnapps guaranteed a wipe-out and took up little space and weight in their gear-packs. Ben was not allowed to refuse. He was not a spirits-drinker, and after two hearty sips, felt the effect. He would need to watch it!
In the afternoon, Gerd and friends stuck to their task: Measuring, drawing, arguing, photographing, calculating. Christine and Ben, clearly outsiders, went for a long, exploring walk. She took his hand and countered his Schnapps-induced wobble as they strolled laughing and chatting like an established loving couple. There was nothing untoward until later in the afternoon.
The September sun, still pleasantly warm, had set the valley aglow. Christine and Ben had on a rise, first sat down in the grass, and now they lay there, stretched out. When Ben opened his eyes, Christine was bent over him. He felt the tips of her breasts touching and moving against his chest. Christine’s lips were almost touching his as she asked, “I wonder if Erika is missing you this afternoon?”
And then she kissed him.
It was a questioning kiss: not too brief, but light in touch, ending with a mere suggestion of tongue brushing over his lips. Ben responded by pulling Christine close with his hand firmly on the roundness of her ass in her tight-fit jeans.
As Christine did not pull away from the feel of his rising erection, Ben decided on the most honest answer, “I hope she misses me and our wild, glorious sex and loving each other. Erika and I have something special. As you know, in our loving each other, we are catching up. With you and me, it’s a bit different, even if our sex would be wild and wonderful too. You know, Christine, don’t you, that I love you, desire you, almost as much as Erika. But there could never be an either you or her for me. I would never give up Erika.”
Christine sat up, hunched over her knees. Ben had now seriously acknowledged what they, she and Erika, had teasingly toyed with in yesterday’s sexting. But they had only jokingly promised a little ‘playing’ on the bed. Or did they, like Ben, desire to share fully? For the moment, she found no reply. So, Christine laughed and got up, holding out her hand for Ben to do likewise.
Ben and Christine found Gerd and friends sitting on the bench leaning against the hut’s wall. They had finished their day’s work and were pleased with what they had done. A bottle was passed, and glasses filled and refilled and toasts drunk. Ben, but not Christine, was invited to join and a shot-glass for him was found. When they were raised for a toast, Ben only sipped while the others drowned theirs. On sitting down on the end of the bench, he poured the rest on the ground. Then he listened as Gerd and the builder explained in detail how the hut would be rebuilt.
The men prepared the evening meal with much roaring laughter. It was a huge frying pan of bacon and eggs. Eaten with thick slices of rye bread to soak up the fat, they declared it the proper food to line their stomachs. Now the work was done, it was time for some serious drinking. By then, they were, Christine pointed out, already on their third bottle of Schnapps. “Who is counting?” guffawed Gerd.
He and the other blokes no longer noticed that Ben had stopped matching them shot by shot by then. When they brought out the playing cards, there was a moment’s hesitation. The builder, not Gerd, looked at Christine and Ben and asked if they wanted to play poker. The others were silent. It was not the game they favoured but with six, what else could they play? There was a sigh of relief when the outsiders – hardly any of the men, including Gerd, had spoken to Christine all day – left them to play their foursome.
Christine cleaned up and washed the dishes. Ben eventually got up. He complained he had too much to drink. Putting on a show, he staggered outside for a piss and cold wash in the trough. On returning to the room, the light of the one kerosene lamp over the table made it easy for Ben to stay in the shadows. His plea that he did not feel too well after all the Schnapps and better bed down was - with suppressed laughter - condescendingly believed by the hard-drinking card players.
Christine lent him a flashlight, giving him a quick smile and wink. So, Ben made for his pallet in the corner of the other room and an unlikely early night.
Ben knew Christine expected him to wait for her. They had not exchanged a word about what would happen. Yet Ben was sure that they were in silent collusion, that somehow it would be their night. He left the ultimate choice of what they would do to Christine. Everything was out in the open between the three of them. As Ben thought about all the possibilities that were, perhaps, in the offering, he stretched out. Pleasantly aroused, he waited for her in the dark.
Half-an-hour or so had passed before Ben saw a dull flow of light coming from the briefly opening door. Then there were her light footsteps and the touch of her hand on his leg. And then her murmuring, “You have my flashlight, Ben?”
She had slid up next to him, and her hand had stolen under the blanket. Christine suppressed a giggle as she touched Ben’s erection. She whispered, “You keep the flashlight. You’ll turn it on for me to undress, won’t you?” Christine giggled, “After all, you have only photographed me dressed. You want to see me now naked, don’t you? If somebody comes, turn the flashlight off quickly.”
Then she moved away, and the darkness was charged with expectations.
Ben found the flashlight. Gripping its round shape, he turned on his side, resting it on the mating close to his chest. At the slightest sound of intruders, Ben could pull the light under the blanket. Then he pressed the button.
Christine, just out of reach in the softly reflected light, sat on top of her bedding. She looked at him, smiled, had been waiting. They were in unspoken unison. There was not going to be anything accidental about Christine’s stripping and Ben’s watching. Or about what could follow.
Christine now bent forward, took off her shoes, dropped them to the ground. Then, getting on her knees and sitting back, she half-turned to him. Unhurriedly at ease, it appeared, Christine reached for the seam of her top and pulled it up and off over her head. When she shook her head to flatten her messed-up hair, her tits jiggled provocatively in the cups of her bra. Christine now grinned. As she reached behind her back to unclasp it, she pursed her lips in an air-kiss in Ben’s direction. And then, throwing the bra aside, Christine turned fully towards him.