In my previous story, "The Last Few Challenges," Mikki and I navigated through four trials, a shadow of melancholy cast over us as we acknowledged the three challenges left unconquered. One was an impossibility, the others mere opportunities that never materialized. A sense of finality loomed as Mikki and James were set to move within a month's time. Mikki and Oliver had nestled with us for a year and a half, James for a year. Our home had been a whirlwind of joy, with four weekend-long farewell celebrations ahead.
Sandra, Mikki's mother, was preparing to retreat to her new cottage, adjacent to James and Mikki's soon-to-be home, taking Oliver with her. Mikki was determined to accompany them, to help Sandra settle and to bid Oliver a proper farewell. With Sandra's house sold and James already transported her belongings, we loaded the car with clothes and Oliver's treasures. I drove with the other three as passengers, our conversation a dance around the impending farewell.
Upon arrival, we unburdened the car and helped Sandra arrange her things in the cottage. We prepared Oliver's room, a space he loved dearly, having shared a room with his mum at our house. Mikki and I were to sleep in the main house, its expansive windows offering a view of the rolling hills beyond.
The evening was a symphony of comfort, the aroma of takeaway fish and chips filling Sandra's living room, a bottle of wine shared between us. Sandra suggested Oliver stay with her in the cottage's spare room, an idea we warmed to, as it granted us the freedom of the main house.
In the quiet of our room, we undressed, the cool evening air a soft caress against our skin. We stepped into the shower, the warm water a gentle drumbeat against our bodies. Wrapped in each other's arms, we tumbled onto the bed, the world beyond our room fading away.
I guided Mikki to lay back, my lips tracing a path from her forehead, down to her cheeks, and finally capturing her mouth. Our tongues danced as my hand cupped her breast, her heartbeat a steady rhythm against my palm. I journeyed down her body, my lips painting a trail of kisses, her skin soft and yielding beneath my touch.
Nestled between her legs, I opened her folds, my tongue exploring her depths. I inserted one finger, then another, stroking her inner walls as my teeth grazed her sensitive bud. Her moans filled the room, her back arching as I built her heat, my fingers moving faster, my mouth worshipping her swollen clitoris.
Rising, I kissed her gently, whispering, "Come for me, my love." I returned to my task, her moans growing louder, her body tensing. With a final nibble and two stroking fingers, she tumbled over the edge, her release a shuddering cry.
I licked her juices gently, letting her drift down from her high. We held each other, her heartbeat a pounding rhythm against my chest. With that wonderful smile I'd come to love, she told me it was my turn. Mikki worked her magic with skilled fingers and a knowing tongue, drawing two powerful orgasms from me that left me trembling and breathless against the sheets.
Words I'd kept locked inside finally broke free in the stillness between us. "I love you," I whispered, the confession hanging delicate and raw in the air. Her eyes softened as she traced my cheek with her fingertips.
"I've been carrying those same words for you," she murmured, "for longer than you know."
Saturday we ventured out for a leisurely lunch at a sun-dappled café overlooking the harbor. That night, Mikki and I luxuriated in a steaming bath scented with lavender oil, our skin flushed pink as we traced lazy patterns across each other's slick shoulders. Later, we made love with unhurried tenderness until exhaustion claimed us, our limbs entangled and hearts beating in synchrony.
Sunday morning brought the inevitable farewell. After a breakfast of buttery croissants and strong coffee, I embraced Sandra and Oliver with tears stinging my eyes. Sandra's familiar perfume and Oliver's small hands clutching at my sweater made my heart ache with the certainty I would miss them terribly. We arrived home just in time to join the guys at the club, where we sipped cold drinks while watching the strippers' hypnotic movements under pulsing colored lights.
Our traditional Chinese takeaway came in steaming containers that filled the house with aromas of ginger and garlic. Afterward, Mikki and I exchanged knowing glances before slowly undressing, our skin prickling with anticipation. I knelt before Bobbie, taking his velvety hardness into my mouth, savoring his unique taste as he groaned and tangled his fingers in my hair. Across the room, Mikki worked similar magic on James, her dark hair cascading over his thighs. When both men were fully aroused, we switched partners with wicked smiles. James's impressive length stretched my throat deliciously as I took him deep.
We arranged the men side by side on the settee, their eyes dark with desire as Mikki and I mounted them simultaneously, facing each other so we could share passionate kisses as we rode. Bobbie's hands gripped my hips with increasing urgency, and I could feel his impending release in the tension of his muscles. I increased my pace, grinding down harder while circling my sensitive clit with practiced fingers. My climax crashed through me in waves just as Bobbie shuddered beneath me, flooding me with his hot release.
Mikki and I exchanged sultry glances before positioning ourselves in a sixty-nine, our tongues delicately cleaning away the evidence of our pleasure, each stroke bringing fresh waves of sensation until we both shattered into another climax. Afterward, I led James to the bedroom while Mikki disappeared with Bobbie. Lying back against cool sheets, I watched through half-lidded eyes as James positioned himself above me, his cock glistening as he teased it along my sensitive folds before pushing inside with exquisite slowness. He moved with deliberate control until Mikki's passionate cries from the next room pushed us both over the edge. James withdrew just in time, decorating my flushed breasts with pearly strands. Sleep claimed us instantly, our breathing falling into perfect rhythm as consciousness faded.
On Monday, Jacky dropped by the house, her laughter echoing through the hallway as she proposed a gathering to bid Mikki and James a fond farewell. I promised to arrange something and give her a ring, and with that, she left, her footsteps echoing down the path. Normally, I'd pop over to see Sandra, but she was settling into her new home, leaving a void in my daily rounds. When Mikki returned from work, I filled her in on Jacky's visit. Mikki suggested we invite them both over for the weekend, allowing them to stay for a couple of nights so they could say their goodbyes properly.
I added that we could take Jacky to the club on Sunday, as she'd never seen the art of stripping. "Let's paint the town red on Saturday night," I suggested, "and then retreat home for some private festivities." Later, I dialed Jacky, and she was thrilled with the idea, promising to be at our doorstep around two on Saturday.
The rest of the week was quiet, with Mikki and I stealing moments together, the inevitability of our parting looming larger each day. Saturday finally rolled around, and at half past two, Jacky and Martin pulled up, their car crunching on the gravel drive. We had a table reserved for seven, ensuring we'd be back early, leaving plenty of time for our planned indulgences. The night was pleasant, so we strolled to the restaurant, the soft glow of streetlights illuminating our path. The meal was delectable, the wine flowing freely, and by the time we returned home, the air was thick with anticipation.
Bobbie uncorked another bottle of wine, and Jacky, her cheeks already flushed, mentioned how much she'd enjoyed our last gathering, suggesting we repeat the partner-swapping affair.
Mikki stood, asking me to unzip her dress, and as she slipped it off, she commanded, "Come on, everyone. Get naked." We eagerly complied, helping each other disrobe.
The room filled with the rustling of fabric and the soft sounds of eager breaths. Jacky, her eyes sparkling with mischief, reached for Bobbie's cock, while I took James, and Mikki claimed Martin. Like the last time, we arranged the men on the settee. We knelt, taking them into our mouths, their groans filling the air. Then, straddling them, we lowered ourselves onto their cocks, Mikki directing the choreography.
Every ten minutes, she called out "swap," and we'd move on, taking a quick suck to taste each other's pussy juice before mounting again. The room was filled with the scent of sex, the slick sounds of our pleasure.
The second swap found us with our own partner cocks inside us. Mikki warned the guys not to come before the next swap as you couldn’t cum in your own partner. For the final swap, we positioned ourselves on our hands and knees, the men fucking us from behind, their thrusts growing urgent and their cocks teasing our pussies. I could feel my orgasm building, my fingers working my clit as the men began to moan, their releases imminent.
James came first, filling Jacky, followed by Martin, his hot seed spilling into me. Finally, Bobbie groaned, giving Mikki his load. We collapsed onto the floor in a triangle, licking and cleaning each other's pussies, the men watching with wine in hand. After our second orgasms, we lay there, caressing each other's breasts, our bodies slick with sweat and desire.
For the second round, we stayed with our chosen partners. We ladies lay on the floor, the men covering our bodies, their cocks thrusting into us. The room was filled with the sounds of our pleasure, our moans mingling as we watched our partners fuck someone else. Eventually, we all came, our bodies shuddering with release.
Naked and sated, we sipped wine and chatted, Jacky expressing her gratitude for our invitation.
I suggested we spend the night with our own partners, and Mikki helped me make a bed on the settee. She then took James to their bed, while I led Bobbie to our room, leaving Jacky with her husband Martin.
Once in bed, I told Bobbie I wanted his cum, having already had the other two. I took him into my mouth, my hand gently cupping his balls. I worked his cock, my head bobbing up and down as I played with his balls. As he began to moan, I sped up, urging him to come for me. He exploded into my mouth, his hot seed filling me in three powerful jets. I swallowed it all, licking my lips before cuddling up and drifting off to sleep, utterly content.
Waking to sunlight filtering through the curtains, I reached instinctively for Bobbie's cock, finding it already semi-hard beneath the crisp white sheets. I peeled them back, revealing his magnificent shaft, thick and veined, begging for attention. Wrapping my manicured fingers around his velvet-smooth length, I lowered my lips over his glistening purple helmet, my tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge. I watched his face through my tousled hair, waiting for that delicious moment of awakening.
His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks before his eyes opened, with desire as awareness dawned. A lazy smile spread across his handsome face as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder. Fully awake and rock-hard now, I needed him inside me. I straddled his muscular thighs, my dripping pussy hovering tantalizingly above his throbbing cock. The swollen head brushed against my slick, pink folds, sending electric tingles up my spine. I sank down inch by delicious inch, my tight walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.
I arched my back, offering my heaving breasts to his hungry mouth. His hot tongue lapped at my sensitive nipples, sending waves of pleasure straight to my core. My fingers found my swollen clit, circling it with increasing pressure as our bodies moved in perfect rhythm. When his cock began to pulse inside me, flooding my womb with hot spurts of creamy cum, my own orgasm exploded like fireworks behind my eyes, my pussy clenching rhythmically around him. Breathless and glowing, I slid down to capture the last pearly drops from his softening cock, savouring his salty-sweet essence on my tongue.
After a leisurely breakfast, our house became a whirlwind of activity—steamy showers with wandering hands, blow dryers humming as we styled our hair, and the careful application of makeup to highlight our post-coital glow. Finally dressed in our Sunday finest—form-fitting dresses that accentuated our curves and heels that made our legs look endless—we strolled arm-in-arm to the exclusive club with our membership cards in hand. Jacky's eyes sparkled with anticipation; her cheeks flushed with excitement at the prospect of watching beautiful women bare all on stage. She’d never been interested before, though now we’d introduced her the the joys of female love making, she was excited to be there. The club featured three exquisite dancers that afternoon, including a statuesque blonde we'd befriended months ago.
After her mesmerising performance—a sensual ballet of flesh and silk—we introduced Jacky to her backstage. The dancer's knowing smile widened as we explained that Jacky and her well-endowed husband were our special weekend guests, participating fully in our intimate adventures.
After a very enjoyable afternoon, we returned home with steaming bags of fragrant Chinese takeaway—sweet and sour chicken, crispy aromatic duck, and special fried rice. The tangy scent filled the kitchen as we uncorked a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc, its pale gold liquid catching the light as we poured generous glasses. While eating, us three girls exchanged glances, silently planning our next move. With a sultry smile, I dimmed the lights and put on some slow, pulsing music. We stood, our hips swaying hypnotically as we recreated the dancers' routines, peeling away our clothing piece by piece until we were gloriously naked in front of our men.
Our fingers traced the buttons of the men's shirts, slowly revealing their tanned chests, their breathing growing heavier as we peeled away each layer. The carpet cushioned our knees as we worshipped their bodies, the taste of salt and musk on our tongues. We moved between partners like dancers in a well-choreographed ballet, our skin slick with perspiration, the air thick with the intoxicating perfume of arousal. Satisfied after we’d all climaxed and the three of us full of hot cum.
Later, as we refilled our glasses with ruby-red wine, Jacky's voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Mikki," she said, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, "might I have James tonight? One last time?"
Mikki's lips curled into a knowing smile. "He's all yours, darling. Enjoy every inch of him."
"Why stop there?" I interjected, my words slightly slurred from the wine. "Take Bobbie too. Mikki and I will keep Martin thoroughly entertained."
After they disappeared down the hallway, I turned to Martin, admiring how the lamplight caught the silver at his temples. "Remember last time? Mikki's been curious about that particular pleasure."
Mikki, her eyes glittering with anticipation, positioned herself on all fours, her golden skin glowing against the dark leather of the sofa. She moistened her fingers with her tongue before reaching behind, preparing herself for him. I slid beneath her, my back against the cool floor, offering myself to her eager mouth. The first touch of her tongue sent electricity coursing through me, and I arched upward, my fingers tangling in her silken hair.
Martin entered her arse slowly, his powerful hands gripping her hips, and with each thrust, Mikki's moans vibrated against my sensitive flesh. I repositioned us into a sixty-nine, desperate to taste her while watching Martin's thick shaft disappear into her bum hole. His heavy sack brushed against my forehead with each powerful thrust, the rhythm building as our pleasure mounted.
Our cries mingled in the heated air as Mikki and I reached our peak simultaneously, our bodies trembling with waves of ecstasy. As Martin approached his climax, I quickly withdrew him from Mikki, enveloping him with my mouth just as he erupted, his essence hot and salty-sweet on my tongue. Turning to Mikki, I pressed my lips to hers, sharing this final intimacy as our tongues danced together.
Exhausted and satisfied, we cleaned ourselves with warm, lavender-scented towels before collapsing into Mikki's bed, our limbs intertwined beneath cool cotton sheets, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning dawned in a flurry of motion and light. Sunbeams slanted through the kitchen window, catching motes of dust in the air as Mikki, Bobbie, James, and Martin bustled about, gathering jackets and briefcases for work. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with sizzling bacon and toast, while Jacky and I—unhurried on our day off—coordinated plates of eggs and fruit for everyone. Each of the four slipped out the door in turn, their footsteps fading into the crisp Monday air. A small pang of wistfulness tugged at me: for the past eighteen months, Monday mornings had been mine and Oliver’s quiet ritual, and I missed that gentle routine.
I turned to Jacky, brushing a loose curl from her cheek, and led her to the shower. Steam curled around us as warm water pounded our shoulders and cascaded down our bodies. With tender deliberation, we washed each other—tracing fingertips over damp skin, pausing at the curves and hollows that were ours alone. Our sighs echoed off the tiled walls. When we stepped out, towels swaddled around our waists and hair, Jacky pressed her lips to mine. “I’ve got the whole day,” she whispered, gaze dropping to the floor before she dared meet my eyes again. “I’d like to spend it with you.”
I slipped a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face into mine. “By spending time together,” I murmured against her lips, “you mean in my bed?” Her cheeks warmed to a rosy glow as she nodded, and I guided her hand to strip the sheets off the mattress. We worked quickly, our laughter weaving between us, replacing the cold linen with fresh cotton. Then we tumbled into the nest we’d made. The next two hours drifted by in a haze of kisses and deep, humid touches—our mouths claiming each inch of skin, tongues tracing secret paths, fingers mapping desire. Moans laced with pleasure rose and fell as we found one another’s rhythms again and again, each climax folding into the next until we lay breathless, limbs entwined.
Later, over thick mugs of coffee sweetened with cream, I turned to Jacky. “Fancy going out for lunch?” The idea of stepping into the sunshine lifted both our spirits. By midmorning the sky was a flawless blue, the air fragrant with budding flowers. We drove out to a rustic country pub, its garden dotted with wooden tables shaded by broad-leafed trees. Plates of roast pork and spring greens arrived, the meat tender and juices mingling with apple chutney on our tongues. While I savored each bite, Jacky’s eyes grew distant as she began to recount the night before.
She described how, after tuck in time, she knelt before Bobbie and James, their arousal straining against fabric. One at a time, she took each of them deep into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she set a fierce, steady pace. Then Bobbie slid into her from behind, thrusts measured and sure, while James followed, filling her until she could hardly think. When she asked for them to double-team her once more, they answered in synchrony—two bodies moving around hers in a rush of heat and release. With Bobbie in her pussy and James in her arse they came together, Bobbie bent forward again, mouth returning to her pussy until a fresh wave of climax shuddered through her. Finally, she rose and, with quiet concentration, cleaned both their cocks with her lips. Jacky’s voice was soft as she finished, cheeks flushing even at the memory.
She reached across the table, took my hand, and her expression turned earnest. “I never imagined I’d say this,” she began, “but thank you for fucking my husband in that pizza-delivery-guy challenge. It changed my life—and our marriage—for the better.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she admitted how fond she’d grown of Bobbie and me, how she cherished the wild, freeing intimacy we shared. She spoke, too, of other games with a couple from their circle and of the work colleague she now fucked regularly. Then she sighed, glancing at the sunlit lawn. “I know you and Bobbie will be off to Cornwall soon, but I’d love to stay in touch. I’m up for more playdates whenever we can.” She added, with a wry smile, that Martin wouldn’t stop talking about both of us, either.
I squeezed her hand, warmth passing between us. “We’ll always be friends,” I promised, “and you’re welcome to visit once we’re settled in Cornwall.” Leaning closer, I whispered that I’d never tire of making love to her.
She grinned, the tension melting from her shoulders. “Me neither,” she said—“though a year ago, I’d have laughed at the thought of sleeping with a woman.”
After paying for lunch, we walked to the car together. Jacky's fingers intertwined with mine as we reached the vehicle. She turned to me before we parted, her lips meeting mine in a tender kiss that quickly deepened with longing. I drove her home, with one final kiss she grabbed her bag and went inside waving goodbye.
Mikki arrived home earlier than usual, and I greeted her with a glass of wine in hand. As she sank onto the couch, I told her all about Jacky—how pleasant she’d been, how the two of us laughed our way through the meal. Telling her about our shower and little bedroom session. Mikki smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and we agreed it had been a thoroughly delightful afternoon.
Then she dropped her news: Thursday would be her last day at the branch. They were transferring her to a store nearer both James and her new home, and she’d been granted a whole month off to settle in and find her bearings. Better still, she’d just learned she’d start in her new post with a promotion waiting. I reached for the bottle and poured us each a generous measure. Tonight we would celebrate.
Later, nursing the last sips of wine, I told her about a spa hotel I’d read of in the New Forest—an elegant old manor reborn after a complete refurbishment, now offering enticing weekend deals. I’d rung the reservations line earlier: they still had garden-view rooms, two full spa passes, plus a pair of treatment vouchers each. In seconds, we’d booked three nights, Friday through Monday, a final girlish fling before Mikki left town.
On Friday morning we set off in my car, winding along country lanes sheltered by ancient oaks and silver birches. By mid-afternoon we rolled into Brockenhurst, where the hotel’s stone façade peeped through moss-draped trees. A porter whisked away our suitcases while we crossed the threshold into a lobby of soft emerald carpets and uplighting that danced over rich mahogany panels. It felt like we’d won the jackpot.
At reception a warm-faced woman in her fifties greeted us with an approving smile. “Welcome to the spa and hotel,” she purred as she keyed our reservation—then surprised us by announcing a complimentary upgrade to a junior suite. She handed over sleek spa passes stamped with gold leaf and explained the etiquette: the wet areas—sauna, steam room, thermal showers—were strictly clothing-free; the pool and relaxation lounges required swimwear or a robe. I think she’d taken a shine to us.
Our suite was breathtaking. In the vaulted bedroom, a gleaming roll-top tub with porcelain-clawed feet stood beneath a leaded glass window. A cozy sitting nook occupied one corner, while beyond a marble-hued arch lay a vast en-suite with rainfall shower and dual vanities. We unpacked in a whirl, shrugging off clothes until only bare skin remained.
Looking at Mikki’s flushed cheeks and tousled hair, I couldn’t hold back. I closed the distance between us in a single step, pressing my lips to hers as her eyes fluttered shut. My hands explored the gentle curve of her waist, the slope of her hips, lingering at the swell of her breasts. She sighed, warm and inviting, as I trailed kisses lower—along her stomach, over the soft planes of her thighs, finally resting where her skin was most eager for attention.
She arched into me, breath quickening, and we settled side by side in an intimate dance of lips, tongues, and fingers. Our bodies molded together; every sigh and moan rose in harmony. Waves of pleasure rolled through us, crescendo after tender crescendo, until we clung to each other, spent and trembling, as the tension melted into soft relief. We lay entwined, our foreheads brushing, tears of joy and sorrow mingling—knowing this weekend was a fleeting goodbye.
After a while, I gently brushed her tears away. “Come on,” Mikki whispered with a shy laugh. “Let’s dry our eyes and make the most of the spa.”
We padded down to the indoor pool, its waters glimmering under soft amber lights. After a few leisurely laps, we slipped into the changing rooms, peeled off our suits, and strutted naked into the sauna. Two other couples paused mid-conversation to glance our way as we settled onto the warm wooden benches. We caught each other’s eyes and shared a kiss meant to signal: we’re together. A few minutes later, we ventured into the steam room, where clouds of scented vapor clung to our skin, then plunged into the icy-cold plunge pool, the shock tightening every nerve until we laughed like schoolgirls.
Wrapped in plush robes, we drifted to the bar, ordered two pink-tinted cocktails crowned with fresh mint, and toasted to new beginnings. Later, over a light salad and seafood tapas in the hotel bistro, we plotted our evening: slick dresses, high heels, and dancing the night away. We had on our best pulling outfits, we were both ready for a new cock or two. With hearts full and spirits soaring, we buzzed upstairs to prepare for the disco, ready to burn the last embers of our time together.
In the pulsating heart of the dance floor, our outfits and moves were a spectacle that drew all eyes and an endless stream of libations, back in those days when a drink was merely a drink, and you didn’t have to worry if they were spiked. Two well- sculpted men joined us in a few dances, our bodies moving in sync with the rhythm. We eventually retreated to a table, conversation flowing as easily as the drinks had earlier. They were charming, friendly, and confident, but not boastfully so. Excusing ourselves to the ladies' room, I touched up my makeup and asked Mikki what she thought of the guys, if she was interested.
She confessed her attraction, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she mentioned the bulge she'd felt while dancing. She wanted more, wanted to go back to their place and indulge. I laughed, my own desires echoing hers, and we returned to the table. I discovered their place was a mere five-minute walk away. In a voice laced with promise, I told them we were both horny, they’d pulled if they were game. They moved swiftly, almost desperately, and before I knew it, we were seated in their lounge, vodka and coke in hand.
We instructed them to sit and slowly undress each other, our lips locked in a passionate kiss. Standing before them, we felt a surge of power. Mikki's guy suggested they retreat to his bedroom, but I held my ground. "If you want this," I said, pointing to my pussy, "it will be here, together." They exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. They weren't thrilled, but their desire for a free shag outweighed their hesitation.
Kneeling, we reached into their pants, finding two hard, ready cocks. I moved my lips expertly around his length, one hand stroking him, the other cupping his balls. When they were ready, we stripped them fully. Mikki lay back on the rug, I bent over the settee. They approached, cocks in hand, their targets in sight. I felt his cock rubbing against my folds, my hand finding my hot, eager bud. He pushed into me gently, my walls massaging his throbbing shaft.
Mikki's moans filled the room, her guy driving into her rhythmically. I rolled onto my back, wanting him to fuck me properly. My body trembled as my climax neared, my hands on his bum pushing him deeper. With a loud groan and a few final thrusts, he erupted, spilling his seed deep within my pussy, pushing me over the edge into orgasmic bliss. Beside us, Mikki was just coming down from her own peak.
Standing, I turned to Mikki's guy. "If you'd gone to your room, you'd have missed this," I said, burying my face in her pussy. I cleaned every drop of cum and her juices, her body shivering under my touch. When she was clean, she returned the favor, bringing me to a second climax.
By the time we finished, we had two guys with hard cocks, ready for more. Swapping partners, I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue and lips over his bulbous head. Lying back, I told him I was ready. He pushed into my core in one swift thrust, my back arching to take him deeper. I didn't come again, but I relished the feeling of his cock. As he neared his peak, I pulled him out, telling him to put it back in my mouth. After a few thrusts, he gave me what I wanted - hot, sticky, creamy cum. I swallowed every drop until his spent cock slipped from my mouth.
Mikki, having seen me, did the same. We shared a deep kiss, our breasts pressing together. After another drink, we dressed and left, not wanting to be seen dragging guys back to our hotel. We hailed a cab and returned to our suite. We didn’t even get their names; what sluts we were.
In the sanctuary of our room, we filled the bath, turning out the lights so we couldn't be seen. We washed each other, gazing out at the ponds and gardens, the night's events echoing in our minds. It had been a successful night indeed. Climbing into bed, we hugged, kissed, and drifted into sleep.
After breakfast and a leisurely walk along the hotel's manicured garden paths, we ventured into the nearest town—a quaint collection of stone-fronted shops with colourful awnings that fluttered in the warm breeze. We found a charming bistro with wrought-iron tables spilling onto a cobbled terrace for lunch, the world seeming more vibrant after our indulgent night.
As we sipped frothy cappuccinos topped with chocolate dust, I noticed a woman with copper-red hair at a corner table, her mascara running in dark rivulets down flushed cheeks. Her shoulders trembled with each sob. I couldn't ignore her distress. Sliding into the empty chair beside her, I touched her arm gently. "Are you alright?"
Between hiccupping sobs, she explained that her boyfriend—a man with "anger issues and wandering eyes," as she described him—had stormed out during their anniversary lunch, leaving her stranded fifteen miles from home. The argument had erupted when she refused to engage in what she called "his latest bedroom fantasy."
I invited her to our sun-dappled table where Mikki waited, her eyebrows raised in curious concern. The woman—Susan—was petite with delicate wrists and emerald eyes now rimmed with red. She worked at Barclays, she told us, twisting a silver bracelet nervously. Her parents' recent passing had left her with a Victorian terrace house where her boyfriend had installed himself "like a parasite," bringing nothing but his clothes and criticism.
"I can't face him," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Not yet."
I described our hotel's lavish spa with its eucalyptus-scented steam room and swimming pool overlooking rolling hills. "Come back with us," I offered. "Decompress before deciding what to do next."
At the hotel, Mikki escorted Susan to our suite—all cream linens and panoramic windows—while I secured a day pass from the concierge, a distinguished gentleman with a waxed mustache who winked knowingly at my request for "three ladies."
In our room, I explained the spa etiquette while Susan admired the plush bathrobes embroidered with the hotel's gold crest. "I'm not prudish," she asserted, her chin lifting defiantly. "I've sunbathed topless in Ibiza and skinny-dipped in Greece at midnight." Her eyes flashed as she added, "I'm adventurous—just not interested in being filmed with his golf buddies while wearing a dog collar."
I lent her my spare bikini—a turquoise two-piece that complemented her pale skin—and soon we were gliding toward the spa in matching white robes, our bare feet silent on the marble floors.
In the glow of the afternoon sun, we slipped into the cool embrace of the pool. After several lengths, we retreated to the lockers, our wet bikinis slapping against the tiles as we shed them. Holding our towels, we padded naked to the sauna, the air thick with eucalyptus and cedar.
I followed Susan, my eyes drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her firm breasts, slick with sweat, rose and fell with each breath. A thin whisper of pubic hair pointed like an arrow to the secret place between her thighs, while her bottom, two perfect orbs, jiggled hypnotically with each step. My mind raced, a whirlwind of desire, as I wondered how to invite her into our bed. I glanced at Mikki, her expression mirroring my own lustful thoughts.
The sauna was a crowded haven; three couples and two girls, their bodies entwined, shifted to make room. The heat was a living thing, licking our skin, as we sat pressed against each other, my flesh touching theirs. I looked at Susan, my imagination running wild, and felt a hot, restless stirring in my belly. After twenty minutes, we escaped to the steam room, the dry heat replaced by wet, billowing clouds that clung to our skin.
We then subjected ourselves to the icy shock of the plunge pool, our bodies tingling, nipples stiffening like pebbles under our robes. In the lounge, we huddled together, a bottle of water and three glasses on the table before us. Susan looked at us, her eyes soft with gratitude. "Thank you," she said, "for rescuing me, for looking after me."
I asked if she was feeling better, if she wanted me to take her home.
She admitted she felt much better but dreaded the thought of her boyfriend being there.
I suggested cocktails, dinner, and the comfort of our settee, which could be transformed into a makeshift bed.
Mikki chimed in, her voice warm with invitation, assuring Susan it was no trouble, and wouldn't it serve her boyfriend right? The first part of our seduction plan clicked into place.
Two cocktails later, laughter bubbled from our lips as we shared intimate details, Mikki explaining our unique living arrangements.
Susan confessed her surprise, having assumed we were a couple, and even more so when she learned Mikki had a son nearly two years old.
Back in our room, Mikki and I found spare clothes for Susan, who was eager to try the claw-foot tub in the bedroom. As she soaked, we stole away for a shower, our slick bodies sliding against each other, chasing the relief of a shared orgasm.
Dressed for the evening, we headed to the restaurant, our table for three laden with food and drink that flowed like a river. Susan blossomed under our attention, sharing stories of past sexual exploits that painted her far from the shy, reserved person we'd first thought. She was adventurous, open to all kinds of experiences.
She confided in us about her boyfriend's growing demands, the latest fantasy which she’d declined caused the argument, a sordid affair involving five of his golfing friends. She'd be used, tied up, sexually abused by them all while her boyfriend recorded every moment. She described his friends as horrible pigs who used their wives and others as property, boasting and sharing the videos like trophies.
I told her bluntly, "He doesn't respect you. You need to seriously consider your future with him."
Susan agreed, admitting she'd known it all along but needed to hear it from someone else.
Mikki deftly changed the subject, regaling Susan with tales of our list and the challenges we'd completed. Susan listened, her eyes wide with shock and excitement.
Eager to move things along, I asked if she'd ever been with another woman. I confessed Mikki had been my first, and that we'd shared several lovers since.
Susan shared her own stories, of high school kisses and chaste nights spent naked with a friend. Though she was far too shy back then to instigate anything sexual. Part two of the seduction was in play.
Despite our protests, Susan insisted on paying for the meal, a token of her gratitude. After a nightcap, we retreated to our room, the air thick with anticipation and the sweet scent of promised pleasures.
Mikki drew back the plush duvet, the fabric whispering as it slid down the bed. I retrieved the spare sheets, their crisp cotton cool against my skin, and plumped the pillows, their feathers rustling softly. I looked Susan directly in the eyes, searching for her comfort and asked, "Would you prefer the couch, or perhaps you'd be more at ease sharing the bed with us?"
Susan, her voice barely above a whisper, stared at the floor as she admitted, "I don't want to be alone tonight." Mikki, with a tender touch, helped her undress, the soft fabric of her clothes slipping to the floor. We then undressed each other, the dull glow of the moonlight casting long shadows across our skin.
I leaned in, pressing a long, passionate kiss to Susan's lips, her breath hitching softly. "Tonight is about you," I whispered, "Anytime you feel uncomfortable, just say stop." With that, we climbed into bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the warmth of our bodies. I whispered in Mikki’s ear, my breath hot, “Let’s make tonight all about Susan.” We positioned her in the middle, our bodies pressing against hers, a cocoon of comfort and warmth.
We took turns exploring her body, our lips trailing kisses across her mouth and breasts, our tongues circling her engorged nipples. I traced my hand down over her belly, her skin soft and supple, before brushing her thighs and stroking her wet folds. Mikki, meanwhile, lavished attention on her breasts, her mouth feasting on the soft mounds. I kissed my way down to her pussy, her musky scent filling my nostrils, a heady and intoxicating aroma. As I licked her folds, she arched her back, a long moan escaping her mouth, her taste exploding on my tongue. I'd been hoping for this moment all day, and it didn't disappoint.
Finding her clit, I gently nibbled it, her moans growing louder. I licked the length of her slit, her juices flowing freely, before inserting one, then two fingers, her warm walls clutching at them, trying to pull them in deeper. I returned to her clit, sucking and licking as my fingers worked their magic inside her. It didn't take long before she started bucking, her back arching, her body tensing. I knew she was close to release, so I doubled my efforts, pushing her over the edge. She tumbled through her first female orgasm, her limbs shaking, her body convulsing.
I shared a kiss with her, her breath coming in short gasps, as Mikki continued to play with her breasts. We exchanged places, Mikki now between her legs, as I kissed and fondled her breasts. Her second climax was stronger, her body shaking and thrashing for what felt like an eternity. Ever so slowly, she calmed down, her breath returning to normal. We took turns kissing each other, Susan whispering nonsensical words, her voice barely audible.
In the morning, after a quick shower, we again used the spa facilities, the warm water soothing our muscles, before having a light lunch. Susan, her voice steady, asked if after lunch she could reciprocate what we did the previous night, adding she may not get another chance.
I took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I’d hoped you would."
We found ourselves naked in bed, a tangle of female flesh, Susan a fast learner, bringing both of us to a wonderful orgasm. She declared the last two days had started like shit and ended the best of her life so far. Telling us she had made a decision and was ready to go home. After a quick shower, Mikki and I drove her home, Susan giving us directions, her voice steady and sure.
As we pulled up to her house, she pointed to the lounge, the lights on, casting a warm glow through the windows. "He’s home," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Will you come in with me?" With the three of us, he was less likely to play up. As soon as Susan walked in, he started on her, his voice a harsh growl.
"Where the fuck have you been? I bet you’ve been fucking some guy all night."
He was genuinely shocked to see Mikki and me follow her in, his mouth agape. "No, actually," I said, my voice steady, "she spent the night at our hotel on the couch. Because you had acted like a pig and upset her, she deserves better."
He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. "Fuck off, it’s got nothing to do with you two, she’s mine."
I answered, my voice unshaken, even as my insides quaked. "We’re not scared of you. We’ve had martial arts training and if you continue, I’ll call the police." Both things were a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. He calmed down, my words working their intended effect.
Trying a different approach, he said, "Look babe, I was worried about you, I’m sorry, forget what I said yesterday."
Standing straight, her voice steady, she told him, "That was the last time you talk to me like that. I want you out of my house."
He scoffed, "You mean our house, I’m not going anywhere."
With all her strength, she said, "No, it’s my house, it was left to me. You just barged your way into my life and house. I want you and your shit out of here now. I’ve called my brothers; they are on their way. If you or your golf buddies ever show your faces here again, I’ll tell your work and golf club about your thieving ways, and dirty little secrets."
It worked, as he was packed and gone in ten minutes. We waited for her brothers to arrive, Susan explaining everything to them, well, not everything, leaving out the sleeping arrangements of last night. They both thanked us for helping and looking after Susan, adding he wouldn’t be bothering her again. I gave Susan my home number and we all said goodbye, our voices echoing in the quiet room.
On the winding drive to the hotel, Mikki began to nervously pour out her heart, her voice trembling like the leaves in an autumn breeze. She confessed that she and James had charted their future together, and had decided that their upcoming move would mark the end of their libertine adventures. With Oliver nearing his second birthday and the desire for more children blossoming, they decided on a more traditional path
A pang of disappointment echoed within me, though I had suspected this shift might occur. I was resolved to make our remaining days together a memorable crescendo, a grand finale to our shared symphony.
Mikki continued, her voice a blend of melancholy and gratitude. She reminisced about our escapades, the quartet of us navigating challenges, pushing boundaries, and indulging in a carousel of pleasures. She assured me that she would never regret nor forget our shared experiences, that she would cherish them like a precious jewel tucked away in her heart. But she emphasized the need for a clean break, a fresh start.
I nodded understandingly, acknowledging the different trajectory their lives were taking. I expressed my joy for them, how after the storm of her first marriage, she had found her rainbow in James. Their future was clear and bright, while ours was still a mysterious path winding through the fog of uncertainty. For now, we agreed to keep exploring, to keep feeling the pulse of life in our own unique way.
Back at the hotel, exhaustion clung to us like a second skin after our two nights of indulgence. We shed our clothes, letting them pool on the floor, and slipped into bed, our bodies entwining like ivy. The faint scent of Susan still lingered in my nostrils, a ghost of our past trysts, as I tumbled into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The alarm jarred us awake, and I drew a bath in the opulent bedroom suite, the steam rising like a spectral dancer. Mikki ordered room service, her voice laced with contentment. We were determined to spend our final night together in the sanctuary of our room, a private haven away from the world.
We soaked in the tub, our aching bodies reviving like wilting flowers in the rain. When the bell chimed, I draped myself in a plush robe and answered the door. A bubbly young woman wheeled in a trolley laden with prosecco and silver-cloche covered delicacies. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she caught sight of Mikki in the bath, her breasts barely concealed by the water's edge. With a laugh, she wished us a pleasant night, a sentiment we returned with a generous tip when she came back to collect the remnants of our feast.
That night, we made love like it was our first and last time, a slow dance of passion and tenderness. The drive home the next day was shrouded in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts, the weight of our impending separation heavy on our hearts.
The week that followed was a bittersweet reversal. Mikki was home waiting for me, our lovemaking tinged with urgency and longing before the guys returned. On Friday, we indulged in a lazy lunch at the local pub, the world outside our cozy bubble fading away. Saturday night was a grand finale of sorts, a dinner followed by a night of passion, swapping partners and losing ourselves in the familiar dance of desire, each cock bringing us both pleasure. Mikki and I cleaned each others pussies with our tongues, a ritual of love and lust, while the guys recovered, their bodies glistening with sweat, their cocks slowly coming to hardness.
Sunday marked their last hurrah at the club, an afternoon of goodbyes and farewells. Mikki and I shared a moment with a stripper we knew, her lips pressing softly against Mikki's in a sweet, sorrowful kiss. We picked up Chinese food, as was our custom, and returned home to one last night of play.
Mikki wanted to spend her final night with Bobbie, so I led James to my room. We undressed slowly, savoring each revealed inch of skin. I took his cock in my mouth, the salty taste of his precum wetting my tongue. He slipped into me, his cock rubbing against my walls, my knees pulled up to deepen his thrusts. It was beautiful, a dance of give and take, a symphony of moans and whispers. When he was close, I urged him on, begging him to fill me with his cum. His release triggered my own, a wave of pleasure that left us panting and sated. We rolled onto our sides, his cock still buried within me, and I drifted into sleep, his essence and his cock still inside me, a physical reminder of our shared passion.
After breakfast and a shower, Mikki packed her clothes, their meager belongings fitting into a single small bag. With tears in our eyes, we kissed, neither of us wanting to break the embrace. I pressed a soft kiss to James's lips, gave his cock a gentle rub over his clothes, and whispered for him to take care of my girl. They climbed into their car, and I held it together until the vehicle turned the corner at the end of the street. Then, I ran to my bedroom, threw myself onto the bed, and buried my face in the pillow, my body wracked with heart-wrenching sobs, my heart shattered into a million pieces.
I thoroughly enjoyed these last four weeks though bittersweet, My cock count has gone from twenty-one to twenty-three cocks and from six women to seven pussies.
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Epilogue: Where Are They Now
Mikki and James settled into domestic bliss with little Oliver in their new home. Sandra, Mikki's mother, found her own happiness in her quaint cottage, where John and his big cock became a regular visitor. I stood proudly as one of the bridesmaids when they married a year later, watching Bobbie serve as best man in a charming country church ceremony followed by an intimate bistro reception. That day, Mikki whispered of her second pregnancy to me with shining eyes. Six months later, Oliver welcomed a baby sister, though medical complications meant their dream of a third child would remain unfulfilled.
A decade passed before James's company offered him an opportunity that transplanted the entire family—including Sandra—to Australia. Despite the distance, our friendship endures through regular calls, though visits have become rare treasures. Mikki still reviews these stories before I share them, often reminding me of forgotten escapades to include. Sadly, the ocean between us means they'll likely miss witnessing Bobbie and me exchange vows with Isabella next August.
The upcoming story sees Bobbie and I say goodbye to our friends in Fareham, with lots of sexy fun, before we move back to Cornwall.
