We met them at poolside at the Halekulani Hotel in Waikiki. Lydia, my lady, had just finished the newspaper and was stretched out on the chaise oilingher body in the sun, I was lying on the float besideher, when Nicole and Frank came up and asked if theycould borrow the TV listing. We’d seen them around thehotel and pool, in the restaurants and cocktail loungesbut this was the first time we talked.
Looking back on it now, it seems almost a dreamlikebeginning. In a matter of moments, we were chattinglike old friends but the conversation seemed to begoing on outside us, like a choral backdrop to the realaction that was taking place. For in retrospect I cansee that there was, almost immediately, an unspokensexual tension crackling between us.
Frank, dark and good-looking, was a well-built fellowwith a quick smile and a ready laugh. Nicole, blondeand sun-browned, was a lot of woman. It was very hardnot to stare at her in her skimpy yellow bikini withbeads of sweat atop the oiled skin of her amplebreasts. Rolling over onto my back, I gazed up herwell-formed legs to the swell of her lower belly andthe pouty mound of her pussy.
Lydia noticed my stare and gave me just a flicker of asmile; as if to tell me she knew what was going throughmy mind. We’d never done anything sexual with anyoneelse, though we’d often talked about it in intimatemoments of fantasy and it got us both very arousedindeed. So it wasn’t unusual that I felt the firststirring of an erection working against my bathingsuit. Lydia noticed that too. And so, I think, didNicole, whose eyes met mine for just a moment with alook of frank, bold curiosity.
They joined us at poolside, and our conversation rolledalong easily. It turned out that we were not onlystaying on the same floor of the hotel; we lived only afew miles apart outside San Francisco. We swappedfavorite restaurants in Honolulu, regaled each otherwith the usual array of vacation tales, and foundourselves enjoying our mutual company. We werepolitically in tune; we enjoyed many of the same TVshows; we were all Forty-niner fans. We even likedseveral of the same Napa wines. And so we agreed tomeet for dinner that evening at the Halekulani’srenowned seaside restaurant.
In typical Hawaiian fashion, we dressed casually,comfortably. Frank and I wore aloha shirts and slacks;Lydia and Nicole, loose, light-weight flowing muumuus.The restaurant ambience was warm, candle-lit, tropicrustic with bamboo walls; the room hung out over acobalt sea stunned by a silver moon and our table stoodagainst an open window on the seaward edge of it. Themeal; oysters and mahi-mahi for Lydia and me; pink babylamb for them, was superb. Our choices of wine were noless so. The service was perfect. And when Frank andNicole invited us to their room for a night cap, it allseemed like a perfectly natural ending to a lovelyevening.
The room was a replica of ours: elegantly appointed insoft, tropical creams and pastel blues, with a king-sized bed, an overstuffed sofa against the oppositewall, a kitchenette at one end and, at the other,sliding doors that opened onto a broad terrace lookingdown Waikiki to Diamond Head. A warm breeze rustled thefilmy curtains. Lydia and I settled down on the couch.
Nicole curled up cross-legged on the big bed. Frankwent to the fridge, took out a chilled bottle ofChateau Montelena chardonnay, and poured for us all.“Anyone for a joint?” he asked.
Lydia and I both love an occasional toke. It makes usboth so sexy, so tactilely sensitive. I wondered if itaffected Frank and Nicole the same way. I smiled. “Ithought you’d never ask,” I said.
I took a long hit and held it deep in my lungs, then Ipassed it to Lydia, who did the same. “Maui wowie,”Frank explained. “One hit and you’re flying. Two andyou’re in orbit.”
We had passed the joint around three times when I feltthe first toke hit, and Frank was right. I felt likethe top of my head was soaring into space. I felt alonging, a roaring, in my crotch, and wanted to feel mynipples touched. “That’s wonderful stuff,” I remarkedto no one in particular, and giggled.
“You know, we probably should have warned you: grassreally turns us on.” I smiled at Lydia; she smiledback, sipped her wine, and wriggled voluptuously, sothat her dress pressed tightly into the valley betweenher thighs, and her pelvis seemed to rise up ininvitation to us all. Nicole gazed at Lydia’s plainlyoutlined pussy, then looked intently at Frank and said,“It turns us on too, huh, honey?”
“In a very special way,” Frank replied. He ran a fondfinger down her hair and along her cheek and throat.“Why don’t you tell them?” Nicole blushed. “I’membarrassed,” she said. She lowered her eyes demurely,but she wore no bra and her hardening nipples wereplainly visible through the thin fabric of her dress.
Lydia coaxed her: “I’ll tell you our fantasy if youtell us yours.”
Nicole hesitated. Frank sat down beside her on the bed.“That’s fair enough,” he said.
“We haven’t actually done it yet,” Lydia looked down ather clearly visible mound, locked her hands behind herlaid-back head so her breasts thrust out, and went on,“but… well, we’ve talked about what it would be liketo fool around in front of another couple.”
“Us too,” Frank said.
Nicole took a deep breath. So it was out in the open.We were on the same wave length. We were now trying todeal with that realization and figure out what to donext.
Everyone was silent for what seemed like ages, each ofus hoping the other would somehow break the ice, but,being innocents, not knowing how. I looked at Lydia andgiggled. She giggled back, but there was lust in thedark corners of her eyes.
She took my hand and placed it on her breast. “Feelme,” she whispered, and turned her wanton smile toFrank and Nicole. “Feel my tits. I want Frank andNicole to look at me while you feeling my tits.”
Lydia’s nipple leaped to rubbery, bud-like erection. Ifelt her breath on my lips and could smell the risingpassion of her pussy on her breath. We kissed with ourtongues and Lydia groaned as she likes to do whileFrank and Nicole looked on. I took Lydia’s other nipplebetween my fingers too. She sighed: “Oh, Jesus!” Welooked at our new found friends and saw them looking atus.
“Oh Jesus!” Lydia whispered again.
Frank had snuggled behind Nicole on the bed and wasnuzzling her neck. He brought his hands around in frontand cupped both her breasts for us to see. Nicoleclosed her eyes, pressed back against him like a cat,and moaned. I was electrified. My cock stiffened.
“Pretty, no?” Lydia whispered.
“No, no, yes,” I replied.
Lydia chuckled softly, deep in her throat. “You’regetting hot, aren’t you?” she asked as she brought herhand to my crotch and began stroking the hard shaftthrough my slacks.
“I’m stoned, baby,” I told her.
“So am I,” she replied. “And I’m getting so hot!”
“So am I!” I whispered, moving my hips up to herinviting hand. Suddenly, in a blurted whisper, shesaid, “I want to do it… to do what we’ve talkedabout. I want to fuck you. I want to feel your stiffprick inside me.”
I looked into her eyes. “With them watching?” I asked.“With them watching,” she replied. Then she moaned,squeezed my cock, and kissed me hard, thrusting herluscious, comfortable hips forward and her tongue intomy mouth.
But since this is in essence a story about real life,we didn’t actually do it in front of our friends. Wewere interrupted by a waiter and things never quite gotback to the same point again.
But the vacation was a great success and Nicole andFrank and Lydia and I were inseparable for the rest ofthe week. I don’t know how things would have gone ifwe’d really gone any further with our little show, butwhat I do know is that we did have the best sex in ourlife that night in our room all alone.
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