It Started with Coffee

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Eve & Marie share coffee and more.
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Throwing a party for twenty seven-year-olds is a thankless job. A lot of work goes into cleaning the house, then the guests tear everything apart in the first half hour. You're left with a bigger mess than when you started. If only you could collapse on the couch with a beer afterward while a tornado goes through the house and sweeps everything away. Preparing everything is even more work when you have a husband who disappears to the golf course the day before the party, I love my husband, Kurt, but sometimes it seems like he's trapped in a permanent adolescence. But it's his spontaneous nature that makes me love him. It's funny that what makes you love someone can be the same thing that annoys you the most.

Luckily, that day, Marie came to my rescue. Her husband, Brett, was out with their son, so she had some free time. Amazingly, she chose to help me set up the party, instead of relaxing, or getting her nails done. I had cooking to do, the house to clean and party favors to put together, so her help was invaluable. I couldn't imagine why she would give up a free afternoon to help me, but we had become much closer of late. Much, much closer.

Marie and Brett live across the cul-de-sac, and we became fast friends from the time they moved in, getting together for barbeques and such. But over the last couple of months, our get-togethers had become more intimate. It started with a couples' night out and a joke about swapping partners. Somehow, that joke turned serious, and Marie ended up in bed with my husband, Kurt, while Brett and I screwed in their living room. But that was not a one-time thing. When we attended Marie and Brett's Christmas party, Kurt and I ended up in bed with them again after all the other guests left. After that second encounter, there was no doubt that we were some kind of foursome, even though I didn't know exactly what that meant. My husband and I talked about it, but neither of us ever had a heart-to-heart with the other couple. I'd talked to Marie often in the intervening weeks, but I could never figure out a smooth way to bring up our extracurricular activities.

"Okay, it's break time," Marie announced. She'd just pulled a fresh batch of cookies from the oven, while I sat at the kitchen table assembling party favor bags.

"Yeah, we have been going at it all day. I could use a break too," I agreed.

Marie poured two cups of coffee from a fresh pot and brought them over, while I fetched the milk and sugar. I take it black, but she pours so much milk into hers it might as well be a dessert. "Just one thing missing," she said, disappearing with a wink. She returned with a bottle of Jamison's and added a nip to her coffee.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" I asked.

"It's after lunch," she grinned, holding the bottle over my coffee. I shrugged and she poured.

"I can't thank you enough for your help. I would be so far behind without you."

"Don't worry, honey, I'll think of a way you can return the favor."

I laughed. "I'm sure you will."

"You can lend me your husband for a couple hours," she said. My shock must have been all over my face, because she added, "I didn't mean for that, although that would be nice. I've been after Brett to put the boxes of Christmas decorations back up in the attic and he could use a hand. I'm afraid I don't have the reach to be much help."

"Oh, sure, I know Kurt will be happy to help." I don't know how happy my husband would be that I volunteered him to move boxes, but I was annoyed enough by his disappearing act that I didn't care. And I could see where Marie would have trouble handing boxes up the ladder that leads to the attic. She's a petite thing, just over five-foot-three, with a crazy, curvy body that demands attention, even dressed down as she was in tight jeans and a green cardigan over a tank top. A couple inches of pale, freckled cleavage were exposed, as usual. Marie is so amply endowed that you couldn't help but notice. She's a beautiful, fiery redhead and I know my husband jumped at the chance to sleep with her.

"What did you think I meant, Eve?" Marie asked.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

She fixed me with her emerald eyes. She wasn't going to let me off the hook. "What if I did ask to borrow Kurt for a couple hours? Would you mind? Of course I'd return the favor with Brett. I know he wouldn't mind one bit."

"I...I don't know. I haven't thought about that." I can't say I'd turn down another roll in the hay with Brett. He was a great lover and a lot of fun. I was pretty surprised he was attracted me to in the first place, if Marie was any indicator of his type.

Marie and I could not be more physically different. Where she is short and curvy, I am three inches taller and slender. I've always been thin and I still run just about every day, keeping me in great shape at thirty-two, if that's not immodest to admit. Before the kids, I was really skinny, and I know Kurt likes that motherhood has put a little more meat on my bones. I have a tight, round butt, and while I am much smaller than Marie up top, I'm perky enough that I don't need a bra. Both Kurt and Brett have told me how perfect my breasts are. Marie is the very image of an Irish Lass, I've got fine brown hair and delicate features. She's always made up, I wear little make-up. She loves attention, I shrink from the spotlight. As I said, Marie and I couldn't be more different, so I'd always thought her husband's flirting was just playing around...until that night.

"Really? Given everything..."

"I mean, I've thought about Brett, sure, I just haven't thought about, you know, going off alone with him, or Kurt going off alone with you. You know, when we've been together, uhm, we were all, you know, together." I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks and hoped I was making some kind of sense. It was difficult to talk about swapping spouses, even with the person I was doing it with.

"Yeah, it's something that just seems to happen, isn't it? Maybe it's more fun when it's not planned."

"Could be," I agreed.

"Are you still okay with what's been going on?"

I felt so put on the spot, but I knew this was a conversation we needed to have, that we should have had a while ago. I sipped my coffee and finally met her eyes. "Yeah, we both are. We like you guys and trust you. It's been a lot of fun, so what's there not to like. As long as were all open with each other, I don't foresee a problem."

"Brett and I love getting together with you. Brett can't say enough about you," Marie smiled. She added more Jamison's to her mug and mine, but not more coffee.

"Really? You guys talk about what, uhm, what we do?"

"Of course. I want to know what you're like. I want to know if you guys are having a good time. And it sounds like it's a very good time."

If it was possible, I turned a deeper crimson. "Really?" I repeated. "Don't you get jealous talking about it?"

"Don't sound so surprised. Brett's looking forward to being with you again, I know that. I know he loves me, so I have no reason to be jealous. But don't you guys talk about what we've been doing?"

"We've discussed it -- generally -- but we haven't gotten into any details. I don't know... talking about it, that seems a little odd to me."

"So you're not curious at all about what Kurt and I do?"

"I wouldn't go that far," I responded, with a sly smile, remembering how I'd briefly spied on Marie and Kurt through the cracked-open bedroom door the last time we swapped. I honestly didn't understand why Kurt and I hadn't gotten into specifics. Maybe he didn't want to know about me and Brett. Maybe Kurt didn't want that picture in his head.

"Is there anything you'd like to know?" Marie asked.

"I... I don't know. Uhm, is it good? I mean, do you like Kurt?"

"I wouldn't be going back if I didn't, would I?" Marie laughed. "I wouldn't keep doing it just so Brett could keep screwing you."

My laughter joined hers. "I guess not."

"I don't need to tell you, but Kurt's great in bed. He's still like a teenager, all excited and he can last forever, the second time. I love that thing he does with his hips, too."

Marie was very enthusiastic describing sex with my husband, and I felt a pang of jealousy. I knew just the thing she was talking about with the hips. And while I may complain sometimes that it seems like sex is the only thing on Kurt's mind, I'm secretly pleased that he wants me just as much now as when we first met.

"And you're enjoying Brett?" Marie asked.

"Oh yeah, he's terrific," I answered, perhaps too quickly. "It's exciting to be with someone so different from Kurt. Brett's so strong. Not that Kurt isn't, but it's different with Brett."

"I know what you mean."

"I never thought I'd be with another man again, so it's a very nice surprise. I don't know where this thing is going, but I'm enjoying the ride."

"You never really did answer me. How would you feel if Kurt and I went off together, without you guys around?"

"I don't really know. Would you be okay with Brett walking across the street for a quickie?" I asked, trying to inject some humor into the conversation. I really didn't know how I would feel if Kurt were to be with Marie without me around. Was that crossing a line?

"I'd be fine with it. Feel free to borrow my husband anytime time you like," Marie said.

I just couldn't match Marie's smile. I wasn't quite where she was on this. "Kurt and I would have to talk about that. I don't know how he feels about me just going off and being with Brett."

"Fair enough. In the meantime, you know what the guys really want? You know what would drive them crazy?"

"I think I know what you're getting at. Kurt would probably pass out. I don't think he'd know what to do with the two of us," I laughed, glad we've changed topics.

"Brett would be fine, with a little direction, I think. I know his biggest fantasy is two women in bed. I think he'd love for those women to be us."

I thought about when I kissed Marie that first time, and then after the Christmas party, when I was pulled into bed with her and Kurt, after I'd come to collect my husband from her bed. The two of them began undressing and kissing me, and I barely had the willpower to pull away. I agreed with Marie. Either of our husbands would love to be in bed with both of us, but how could we work it out to be fair to everyone?

"I think you're right. And if you and Kurt had your way, it probably would have happened last time."

"Yeah, that was fun. You're a great kisser. It's a shame you guys had to go."

"Maybe something will happen next time," I said. "I know we can work something out."

"We should just ignore the guys entirely. Just let them sit there and watch," Marie said, taking my hand.

"That could be interesting," I agreed. Was the whisky in my coffee warming me up, or was it something else?

"But you know, we don't want to promise them something hot and then not deliver. It'd probably be a good idea to practice first." Her thumbs caressed the back of my hand and she moved closer.

"Oh? You think so?" I smiled.

"Most definitely," she nodded.

Leaning across the table, Marie closed the gap between us and our lips met. It was not our first kiss, of course, but it was the first time we were kissing without an audience, and there was no rush. It was years since I'd really sensually kissed another woman, and it was just as wonderful as I'd remembered it. Her lips, painted a reddish-rusty color, were soft and full, and I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the kiss. Her hand was on the back of my neck, slender fingers tickling where strands of hair had come free from my hurried effort at pulling my brown locks up. I gasped when our tongues touched. It was electric, like the first time I'd kissed her husband. An illicit thrill passed through my body. I've always gotten a special pleasure from doing things that were forbidden or dangerous. Sitting in my kitchen and kissing one of my best friends like this definitely fell into both categories.

"Do you think we should move things up to the bedroom?" Marie asked.

"It's like you read my mind," I agreed. As we both stood, I grabbed the bottle of Jamison's and took a huge pull. The amber liquid scorched my throat and warmed my body. Coming from a large Irish family, I'm not lightweight when it comes to handling my liquor. I handed Marie the bottle and she took a more demure sip.

I left the bedroom shades up, but pulled the curtains closed, and the afternoon sun filled the space with warm, diffused light. Marie waited by the side of the bed and I was glad that I habitually make our queen-sized bed every morning. There was nothing I could do about the clothes Kurt insisted on throwing on the floor. I walked toward my smiling friend.

Our bodies touched and her hands rested on my waist when we started kissing again. I lightly held her face in both hands and then ran my fingers through her flaming curls. She really has great hair. I'm almost as jealous of that as I am of her generous chest. I've never been able to do much with my fine hair. My tongue slipped past her lips and Marie's hands moved to my butt, pulling me closer as she squeezed. Our breasts mashed together and our clothes felt so cumbersome. I worked at the buttons on the front of Marie's sweater and her massaging hands slid up my back. I pulled her cardigan from her shoulders and ended up wrestling her arms out of it.

Marie decided to finish undressing herself, pulling her white, lace-trimmed tank top over her head, then unhooking the white, lacy bra she wore underneath. Those big, pale, freckled breasts bounced into view and her strawberry nipples stood out, thick with desire. While she unsnapped her jeans, I was peeling off my layers as well. A tight green henley gave way to a white tank top and then a white, stretch camisole. I frequently go braless around the house, especially under so many layers. It's one of the benefits of smaller breasts. I kicked out of my shoes and peeled snug khakis down my legs. I was unsure if I should leave my little white and red striped cotton panties on, but stripped them too when I saw Marie shed her black, silky panties. I would have worn something sexier under my clothes if I'd known anyone besides my husband would be seeing it.

While we kissed, I pulled back the covers and we slipped into bed together, facing each other in the middle. Our eyes were locked together as our hands explored each other's bodies. I was suddenly nervous and felt rather silly about it. Marie had seen me naked before, and we'd touched too, briefly. And unlike her, I'd been with women before, although not in many years, and never as sober as I was then. She caressed my breasts gently, grazing my dark, hardening nipples with her red-painted nails until a low sigh escaped my lips. My breasts are not my most sensitive area, but I can really get going when someone touches me there the right way. I loved how Marie's husband's rough hands felt on my delicate flesh, and I enjoyed her touch just as much. Yes, she was gentle, but also firm, kneading my breasts and pinching my nipples until she drew them out and I moaned for more.

"Brett's right, you're tits really are perfect," she said as a prelude to a kiss.

"Ahhhh, I don't have what you have..." I moaned when her lips slipped to my neck and she found that special spot that makes me nuts. With her kissing and sucking me there, and caressing my breasts, I was nearly helpless.

But I wasn't passive. Marie's breasts spilled from my hands and when I isolated her stubby, pale nipples I teased them gently as she touched me, but it seemed the rougher I was, the more reaction I provoked.

"Mmm, that's it Eve, I'm not a shrinking violet. You don't have to be too gentle," she encouraged, her lips moving lower. I did as she wished, pulling her nipples even harder, with a little twist. "Mmm...yesss...Evvveeee..."

I cried out when Marie's lips and flicking tongue found my breasts. Looking down, all I could see was her mass of fiery curls as she kissed and sucked on my nipples. She circled over and over with her tongue, and then sucked hard, giving me a little bite, before moving to tease my other breast. She kept teasing my free, wet nipple with her fingers, softly pinching and rolling. I wasn't really teasing her breasts as much as just holding on. She made me feel so good. It was hard to think about anything but those soft lips, and I found it hard to believe she'd never done this before. When it became too intense, I guided her mouth back to mine and thrust my tongue into her's.

While we kissed, I took the initiative and touched between Marie's thighs. She was smooth and warm down there. I shave and do my best to keep it clean, but she was so smooth that I suspect Marie waxes. Her lips were puffed out and she moaned into our kiss when I touched them. I tried lightly rubbing her mound, but she was insistent and pushed at my hand. I pressed harder and my middle fingers went between her lips. She was drenched, as I knew I was, and my fingers slipped easily over her clit. I ignored that little bud of pleasure and instead pushed both fingers inside her and curved upward.

"God, Eve!" Marie cried when I fingered her g-spot. I rubbed in little circles, teasingly, but then pressed more firmly and the redhead really started shouting. She pulled my face to her breasts and I feasted, sucking and nibbling her thick nipples, so different from my darker, pointier ones. She cried, "More, more!" I added a third finger and pressed her g-spot as I frigged her faster and faster. I've always thought I was easy to get going, a little too easy, really, but Marie seemed to go from zero to sixty in record time. I am sure I had her on the edge of climax. I could even hear how wet she was as my fingers moved in and out of her.

"If you don't stop....I'm...I'm...gonna...cumm..." she wailed, tearing my face from her breast.

"Do it! I want you to," I encouraged, unusually wordy in bed. Dirty talk just isn't my thing, but my friend had me inspired. I'd heard just how vocal she could be while she fucked my husband.

"Nnnnot...yyettt..."

Marie touched my pussy and I was every bit as wet as she was. Her fingers filled me, but I guided them instead to my clit. Having fingers inside me is okay if someone knows what they're doing, but the surest way to my orgasm is to rub me the right way, which I showed Marie. God, her fingers felt good. It was almost as good as when I touch myself. She knew the clit is sensitive and didn't just attack it, but applied pressure through the hood. Only when she had me moaning and gasping did she pluck my clit from underneath and push me into overdrive. Our eyes held each other's with an incredible intensity as we lay side by side on the bed and brought each other closer to cumming. It was so amazing, so different from the connection I had with Kurt or Brett.

"God, Eve! God, don't stop! Make me cum!" Marie cried, just before she did, indeed, climax. It was incredible to watch her eyes widen, like she was surprised, and then narrow, like she was concentrating on the most important thing in the world. Her eyes closed and her face went slack, even as her body tightened into a straight line, thrusting at me as she howled through her orgasm.

My quieter moans joined hers, as I was cumming myself. I shook and curled toward her as lightning filled my body, illuminating every inch with pleasure. God, it was magnificent! It felt like I was floating in that other world forever, until I stopped Marie from rubbing me -- it just became too intense.

Marie kissed me deeply. "That was so good, Eve! Wow!" She trailed her slick fingers up her own body and then tentatively tasted them. "I've never...mmmm...that's kind of nice."

"Glad you like it," I laughed, unsure of what else to say. I closed the distance between us, so our bodies were together, and kissed her. It was a long, languid kiss and our hands roamed while our wet, swollen mounds rubbed together. The friction was hot and it made me want another round. I knew she would be game if I went down. I couldn't wait to kiss her pussy and make her scream again.

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