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Advanced Swinging - Summer Camp Swingers: Kendall Series Book 4

Nick Scipio


Advanced Swinging

Summer Camp Swingers: Kendall Series Book 4

Nick Scipio

Free Dessert Publishing




Book 4

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25


About the Author

More Summer Camp Swingers

Also by Nick Scipio


Welcome to Camp!

If you’ve been here before, let’s talk about some changes.

First, the book titles. They’re new. Duh. But why? For starters, they’re more descriptive now. The old Volume X titles didn’t tell you a thing about the books, other than their order in the series.

The new titles are mostly for new readers. If you’re a fan from before, you probably don’t care what the books are called. But new readers don’t know me or my stories, and titles are an important part of the sales pitch.

Next, the series and universe, Summer Camp Swingers. Why the change? Amazon. Specifically, their search and recommendation algorithms. I don’t want my books to appear beside ones about regular summer camps. Adding Swingers should make it clear that mine are for grown-ups.

Okay, that’s enough about the changes.

If you’re new to Camp, let me tell you how this all began.

Back in the summer of 2002, I had a story growing in my imagination. It started as a simple fantasy that sprang from events in my real life.

My family vacationed at a nudist camp in the seventies and early eighties. My parents were swingers at the time, although I didn’t figure it out until much later. And when I was a teenager, I knew a woman who was similar to Susan. As an adult, I always wondered what would’ve happened if she’d been more like the woman in my imagination.

So this “what if…?” story was growing in my head, and I kept remembering things and adding new details. It quickly became too much to keep track of, so I decided to write it down. I finished the first few chapters and posted them online. People liked them, so I kept writing.

In the process, my coming-of-age story evolved into something far bigger than I’d ever imagined. I added an overall plot: Who died? Who’s the wife? Then I sketched out the people and events in several more stories. Other writers wanted to play in my world, so I created the universe, Summer Camp Swingers. My own stories grew into books, and the books became series—five of them, as it turned out.

So, where are we now, with this book? Christy is the fifth and final series in the main Summer Camp Swingers saga. You don’t need to read the first four series to enjoy this one, but they add a lot of background for the people and events here. If you’re interested, the earlier series are available on my website.

Whew! That was a lot of introduction. Yeah, sorry. I’ve been writing Summer Camp Swingers since that fateful day back in 2002, so we’re talking about 30 books, nearly 2.5 million words. In any event, I’m sure you’re ready to start reading. You bought the book, after all, so let’s get to it!

Nick Scipio

August 1, 2020



Summer Camp Swingers has always been a serial, published a chapter at a time. So the books in this series don’t begin and end like normal ones do. They’re meant to be read as a complete story, one after the other. When you reach the end of this book, pick up the next one and keep going.

And when you reach the end of this series, start the next one. Keep going until you finish the Christy series. That’s 26 books in total, more than two million words.

The Epilogue in So Long, Summer Camp (book 8 in the Christy series) will wrap up the whole saga and answer the two big questions from the first Prologue—who’s the wife and who died?

Book 4


When our report cards arrived, Gina called me before I even realized that the mail had been delivered.

“I made the Dean’s List, Paul!” she gushed.

“Congratulations,” I said.

“I got an A- in Chemistry, bummer, but the rest were straight As. So, what did you get?”

“Hold on a second,” I said. I covered the mouthpiece as I yelled for Mom, asking her where she’d put the mail. She hadn’t gotten it from the mailbox yet, so I told Gina to hold on. Then I set down the receiver and dashed to the end of the driveway. I returned, winded, holding the mail. Mom and Erin gathered at my elbow as I cradled the phone to my ear and tore into the official UT envelope. In nervous silence, I scanned the computer-printed card. “Straight As,” I finally said, pride swelling my chest.

Congratulations,” Gina, Mom, and Erin said simultaneously.

Gina and I talked for a few more minutes, both of us excited by our grades. When we said goodbye, I immediately called Kendall to tell her the good news.

“Congratulations,” she said, albeit a little half-heartedly.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. Then, “You got a C in O. Chem., right?”


“So? That’s still good enough for the Dean’s List.” We’d done the math, and she could get a D and still make the Dean’s List.

“But I also got a B- in French,” she said miserably.

I did some quick math in my head. Her unexpected B- had dropped her quarter GPA just enough to miss the 3.5 required for the Dean’s List. “Oh, Kendall,” I said at last, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure my term paper and final exam dragged me down,” she said. “I was borderline anyway. I hate French. I’m never going to use it, so why do they even require a foreign language in the first place? I should’ve taken Latin instead.”

“Why did you take French instead of Latin?” I asked.

“I thought it’d be romantic,” she scoffed. “Some romance! Stupid language.”

I commiserated with her for a few minutes, but then I turned the conversation to a more positive subject: her trip to Atlanta. She was as excited as I was, and we talked for another twenty minutes about what we wanted to do while she was in town.

When we said goodbye, she was still a little upset about her grades, but she was in a much better mood than when I first called. And from the sound of things, I was in for a fun weekend.

That night, I spent the night with Gina. When we got up the next morning, I helped her pack. She was excited about the trip with Regan and her other sorority sisters. Leah was a bit jealous, but she wasn’t huffy about it.

“Sororities do stuff like this all the time,” Gina told her. “You can join one when you go to college.”

“Do you think I’d get in?” Leah asked.

Gina grinned at me slyly and then turned to her younger sister. “I think you’d make a great Chi O.”

“What are some other good sororities?” Leah asked.

“Alpha Delta Pi is good,” Gina said. “So is Kappa Delta. I almost joined the Tri-Delts, Delta Delta Delta, but…”

As the girls talked about sororities, I simply listened. Gina and Leah might have their sisterly spats, but they did love each other. And Gina was doing her level best to improve Leah’s self-confidence.

When Gina finished packing, I loaded her things into her mother’s station wagon. Leah wanted to drive, but she wasn’t allowed on the interstate yet, so Elizabeth drove us instead.

At the departure gate, Gina ran toward the group of her friends. Then she introduced her mother and sister to her sorority sisters. Regan, Margot, and Jessica remembered me, of course, but Hayley greeted me as if for the first time.

Strike four, Hayley? I mused silently, suppressing a grimace.

Even though I was Gina’s boyfriend, Hayley gave me an appraising look. Gina’s eyes hardened, but when I didn’t react to the unspoken offer, she seemed to relax.

As we waited for the flight to begin boarding, the girls talked to each other. Leah joined in, thrilled by the chance to talk with college girls. Elizabeth, Jessica, and I sat apart, talking about hotels.

Finally, the gate agent called for boarding to begin. I hugged Gina a final time and then watched as the gaggle of girls walked down the jetway.

Elizabeth, Leah, and I waited until the plane pushed back from the gate and then headed out to the car.

“Mom?” Leah asked. “Can I drive home? Please?”

Elizabeth glanced at me sidelong.

Leah was trying to appear grown up, which hadn’t escaped her mother’s notice.

“Oh,” Elizabeth mused, “I think you’re probably ready to conquer the Perimeter.”

Leah practically jumped for joy.

Her mother flashed me a knowing smile.

I chuckled to myself. In the jaded way that only an eighteen-year-old can manage, I watched Leah and realized that I’d once been that young, too.

That evening, the phone rang and I answered it. It was my dad; he was in Cincinnati. Another flight—from Atlanta to New York City—had a malfunction, he explained, and the plane was grounded. To make matters worse, the flight crew had gone illegal before the plane could be repaired.

(As a safety measure, the FAA regulates the amount of time that any aircrew can fly. If the pilots or crew go over that time, it’s illegal for them to work. The airlines go to great lengths to schedule their crews so they don’t “go illegal” before they begin their flights.)

With the grounded plane and illegal crew, the company had to scramble to find replacements. By some quirk of aircrew scheduling, the company had decided that the quickest solution was for my dad’s crew to deadhead from Cincinnati to Atlanta and fly a rescheduled flight to New York City.

“But once we get there,” he said, “we’ll be illegal ourselves, especially with the air traffic controllers’ strike.”

“I guess I’m lucky,” I said. “Since I usually fly to uncontrolled fields, the strike isn’t a big deal for me.”

“No kidding. It took us more than two hours to get a landing slot the last time I flew into O’Hare,” Dad said. “We spent the entire time circling over the lake. They had us stacked up every thousand feet, for miles. I swear, son, I’ve never seen so much commercial traffic in one place. Outside of an airport, I mean.”

“That sucks,” I said.

“No fucking kidding,” he griped. “The controllers wanted more pay for less work? Hell, son, I’d like to get paid more for flying less. And they complain about their stressful jobs? Try being a pilot sometime, guys. Ah, fuck ’em all. Reagan was right to fire ’em.”

I was a little shocked by my father’s anger, since he was normally an easy-going guy.

“I’m sorry, son,” he said at my silence. “I didn’t wanna talk about the strike, but it’s endangering passengers’ lives and it’s making my life more stressful. Besides, since the airlines have cut the number of flights, I’m not making— Sorry, there I go again,” he said apologetically.

“That’s okay, Dad,” I said at last.

At that point, he took a deep breath. A moment later, calmer, he finished explaining the situation with the flight to New York. Airline scheduling is arcane, at best, but the end result was that my father and his crew would have a two-day layover in New York City.

“So I thought you, Erin, and your mom could come to New York,” Dad said. “I can trade trips with one of the First Officers already there, and I think I can swing it so I’ve got the whole weekend before I have to work again.”

“I’d love to, Dad,” I said, “but Kendall’s coming in for the weekend, so…”

“Ah…,” he said knowingly.

“Um… yeah.”

“Well, then,” he said, “let me see if I can entice your mom and Erin into a little Christmas shopping on Fifth Avenue.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to twist their arms,” I said laconically.

“I think you’re right, son,” he said with a laugh.

“Hold on,” I said. “Lemme get Mom.”

When my mom got on the phone, she listened for a minute. Then her eyes lit up.

“What?” Erin asked, sensing Mom’s excitement.

“Saks?” Mom asked Dad. “Tiffany? Harry Winston?” When Dad said something, Mom smiled knowingly. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”

What?!” Erin asked impatiently.

I explained the situation, along with Dad’s offer.

“New York?” Erin whispered to herself. Then she looked up, her eyes aglow.

“I’ll call and get on the stand-by list,” Mom was saying to Dad. Then they discussed where they were going to meet once in the city. Finally, “Okay. I love you too. Bye-bye.”

“Are we really going shopping in New York?” Erin asked.

Mom nodded.


“You don’t mind staying here?” Mom asked me after Erin ran to her room to begin packing.

I shook my head.

“Are you sure? We could get a ticket for Kendall, if you want to go.”

It was tempting, but I didn’t think Kendall was ready to get on a plane, even if it involved Christmas shopping in New York City.

To my surprise, Mom grinned when I shook my head.

“What?” I asked.

“You and Kendall will have the house to yourselves,” she said.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” I admitted. Then, as I imagined the possibilities, I smiled.

Thursday afternoon, I called Kendall to let her know I was on my way. The drive to Chattanooga was uneventful, but when I got to her house, there was a dark blue Ford Crown Victoria in her driveway. I’d never seen it before.

For a moment, I grew anxious, but then I shook off the feeling and went to the front door. To my surprise, Kendall’s father opened it. He was wearing a coat and tie, obviously his work clothes.

“Hello, Paul,” he said, his voice deep and even.

“Um… hi, Adam,” I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I was.

“C’mon in. Kendall’s almost ready.”

Inside, I saw another man—also in a sport coat.

He stared at me, his eyes hard and flat.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Adam said, “everything’s fine. This is my partner, Detective Dahlgren,” he explained without elaborating.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Adam turned back to me and said, “Maybe we should step outside after all.” Then he grabbed his trench coat and gestured toward the front door.

As he put on his coat, I couldn’t help but notice the holstered pistol beneath his left arm. He looked just like the cops in the movies, only bigger. When he shut the front door, he strolled toward my Jeep. He tried to look nonchalant, but I’d spent too many years as a wrestler not to notice the controlled tension in his shoulders.

“If Kendall knew we were having this discussion,” he began, “I’d never hear the end of it. So let’s just keep this between us men.”

I nodded, my mouth going dry.

“It’s time for you and me to have a talk.”

“Um… sure.”

“Are you sleeping with my daughter?” he asked bluntly.

At that point, I wondered how much it would hurt when he killed me.

He regarded me levelly, studying my emotions, his eyes flinty.

Even though the weather was windy and cold, I broke out in a sweat. My heart thudded in my ears. Then I swallowed hard and tried to get my emotions under control. Any minute now, he was going to…

“Relax, son,” he said, his voice softening. “Just breathe.”

My nostrils flared and I nodded jerkily.

“Are you sleeping with my daughter?” he asked again, a moment later.

If I told him the truth, he’d kill me. But if I lied to him, he’d know the lie for what it was, which meant that he’d kill me. Either way, I was dead. But I had to tell him something. I finally decided that if I were going to die, I wanted to die like a man. Polonius was a pompous windbag, I thought peevishly. “Yes, sir,” I answered at last. Then I waited for the axe to fall.

“Keep breathing, son,” Adam said, his voice oddly soothing. “I don’t wanna have to explain why you passed out and cracked your skull.” When I took a deep, jagged breath, he continued. “I didn’t think you’d tell me the truth so quickly,” he said absently. Then, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re not?” I tried not to sound amazed, but I don’t think I succeeded.

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “I’m just surprised that you came clean so fast.”

“What would you have done if I’d lied?” I asked.

“I would’ve put the fear of God in you,” he said frankly. “Believe me, I’ve spent the last ten years intimidating murder suspects,” he explained. “And don’t take this the wrong way, son, but you’d’ve been a pushover.”

I started to bristle with foolish machismo.

“I said relax, son. There’s nothing wrong with being scared. I know a thing or two about fear, and it’s a healthy reaction. But that’s neither here nor there. Right now, we need to come to an agreement.”

“An agreement?”

“Son,” he said, looking me in the eye, “my little girl hasn’t been ‘little’ since she was fourteen. I’ve known that all along, but she’s still my little girl. She always will be.”

I nodded, my blood still singing with adrenaline.

“So you and me need to come to an agreement. And it’s all about trust, son. If you were willing to face me down and tell the truth, then I guess you’re a stand-up guy. Part of me doesn’t really like it, but I don’t have a choice, now do I? So I guess I have to trust you with my daughter,” he said.

“Trust me with your daughter?” I repeated, a little—no, a lot—confused. “Whaddyou…? I mean, why…? Um… I don’t understand.”

“I told you, it’s all about trust. And I wanted to see how you’d react when I confronted you. If I can’t trust you to be a man and do what’s right, then how can I trust you to treat my daughter right? I expected you to come clean… eventually. But you surprised me. I thought I’d have to grill you longer.”

“So this was some kind of interrogation?”

To my surprise, he laughed humorlessly. “I guess it was,” he said at last.


“Son, I’ve known that you and Kendall were sleeping together for a couple of years.”

“You have?” I rasped.

“Of course I have,” he said. “I’m not blind. I’m not stupid, either.”

“I didn’t—”

“Relax. I said I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he said. Then, “You want to know why I haven’t done anything, if I’ve known all along that you were sleeping with my daughter, right?”

I swallowed hard and then nodded.

“In my line of work, it’s best not to let on what you know and what you don’t. I’m no Colombo, but I’m pretty good at it. I knew you two were… you know,” he said. “But she seemed happier than ever, so I let it slide. Besides, I knew it was going to happen someday.”

“But why ask now?” I asked after a moment.

“Well, to hear Kendall talk, you two seem to be getting pretty serious. So I figured it was high time that you and me had a chat about your future.”

“My… future?”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “She’s a woman, and I know that. Women have… needs. I know that too. But you and me need to get one thing straight: as long as you treat her right, I’ll let you live.”

I laughed nervously.

“I’m not kidding,” he said flatly.


“Don’t worry, this isn’t a shotgun wedding or anything. I know you two have a ways to go before anyone mentions marriage, but I wanted to make sure you understood your responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities?” Marriage?!

“Responsibilities,” he said simply. “You’re a good kid, and I like you, but she’s still my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So you take care of her. And don’t do anything stupid like get her pregnant. She’s got big plans, and I want to see her accomplish them.”

I nodded.

“If you end up as my son-in-law… I’d like that. If not… you’re still a lucky little punk,” he said, smiling for the first time since I arrived. Then he turned serious again. “One final word,” he said. When I nodded, he continued. “Kendall never finds out we had this conversation. As far as she’s concerned, I don’t know a thing about you two sleeping together. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. And you don’t have to call me sir.” At my confused look, he laughed. “Relax, son. You’re wound tight as a drum.”

“Yes, si— I mean, yes.”

“Now,” he said with a nod, “let’s go back inside before Kendall figures out what we’re up to.”

I nodded, my skin tingling as my system purged the adrenaline. As soon as Adam and I stepped inside, Kendall came out of the kitchen, alerted by the sound of the front door. The man in the sport coat emerged behind her. At some unseen signal from Adam, the man’s attitude changed.

Then Adam looked back at me as he took off his trench coat. “Have you thought about putting a winch on the Jeep?” he asked conversationally.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“It’d be good for gettin’ out of trouble,” he continued. “I mean, sometimes four-wheel drive isn’t enough.” Then he looked at me expectantly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I muttered.

“I was thinkin’ about putting a winch on the Scout,” he said. “But I haven’t had the time to do it.”

“Have you two been doing some ‘male bonding,’ Daddy? Is that why you had Uncle Lou running interference?” Kendall asked. Then she flashed me an apologetic look and rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“That’s what men do, baby doll,” Adam boomed. Then he clapped me on the shoulder. “Paul understands what being a man is about. Don’t you, son?”

I caught his meaning, even if Kendall didn’t, so I nodded.

“Oh, Daddy,” Kendall said indulgently, smiling.

I was shocked by how effortlessly Adam changed from hardnosed cop to genial father. He was a surprisingly good actor.

Note to self: Don’t underestimate Adam.

Second note to self: Don’t underestimate Adam. Ever. Really. I mean it.

“C’mon, Paul,” he said. “I want you to meet Lou Dahlgren, my partner.”

When Adam formally introduced us, Lou and I shook hands. He squeezed, and I tightened my grip in reply—hard, but not challenging.

“So,” he said, smiling benevolently, “you’re the guy who stole little Kendall’s heart.”

“Uncle Lou,” Kendall said, her cheeks coloring.

Lou and I exchanged a few pleasantries, but I got the impression that he was a man of few words.

“C’mon,” Adam said at last, to me. “I’ll help you load Kendall’s things. She’s just like her mother; she doesn’t know how to pack light.”

I have truly stepped beyond the Looking Glass, I thought. Then I schooled my expression and reached for Kendall’s suitcase.

“What were you and my father really talking about?” Kendall asked as soon as we pulled out of her driveway.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said, still a little shell-shocked.

“He doesn’t know that we’ll have your house to ourselves, does he?”

I shook my head.

“Good. Because he and my mom think your family will be there.” A moment later, she looked at me, panicky. “He doesn’t suspect that you and I are sleeping together, does he?” she asked.

“Do you think I’d still be alive if he did?” I asked. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it neatly skirted the truth.

“Good point,” she said, relaxing. Then, “So, what were you talking about?”

“Winches,” I said glibly.

“I don’t believe you for a second. You’re up to something.”

“Kendall,” I said seriously, “don’t ask. For the love of God, don’t ask. I don’t wanna lie to you, but I’m not gonna tell you what we were talking about either.”

“Is it serious?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“It’s… between your dad and me,” I said. “Just trust me. Okay? It’s nothing bad. It’s just… well… it’s a guy thing.”

Unfortunately, I think I piqued her curiosity more than put her off. A curious Kendall could be a bad thing or a good thing, depending on the circumstances. At the moment, it would be a bad thing, since I didn’t know how she’d take the revelation about what her father really knew.

Drew had tried to warn me, in his own way, but I guess I’d never seriously considered that Adam might know the truth. He was a lot more perceptive than I’d first thought. (Susan had told me something similar.) And while he wasn’t dangerous, per se, I definitely didn’t want to get on his bad side.

“It’s just a guy thing,” I repeated quietly. I don’t think Kendall truly accepted my answer, but it was the best she was going to get.

At my house, I had taken a cue from Susan and cleared out one of my dresser drawers for Kendall. Her eyes welled up when I showed her. (Unfortunately, she’d brought a lot more clothes than one drawer would hold.)

“Oh, Paul, thank you,” she gushed. “It’s almost like we live together.”

“Almost,” I said faintly. Then, “Here, lemme clear out another drawer for the rest of your stuff.”

After I did, she unpacked her things.

Later, she wanted to cook me dinner. So she shooed me out of the kitchen and told me to “go watch TV or something.” A little while later, she stuck her head into the living room and asked if my parents had any white wine. We did, of course, so I grabbed a bottle from the wet bar. After Kendall put it in the refrigerator, she emerged from the kitchen.

“The chicken will take another thirty minutes,” she said. “Why don’t you go ahead and change for dinner,” she suggested.

“‘Change for dinner’?”

“I thought maybe we could dress up, and have a nice candlelit dinner.”

“Sure,” I said.

My Brooks Brothers suit was in Knoxville, but I had a couple of sport coats in my closet. Unfortunately, they were all too tight through the shoulders, so I settled on a dress shirt, tie, and slacks. A few minutes later, Kendall practically burst into the room.

“It’s hard to cook a gourmet meal and get dressed at the same time,” she said breathlessly. Then she ushered me out of the room so she could change clothes in private. “To maintain the mystique,” she said. “And don’t go into the dining room yet,” she admonished.

I nodded and tried not to chuckle. She was going to a great deal of trouble to create a romantic evening, and I wasn’t about to spoil it by snickering.

When she emerged from my bedroom, she was wearing the silver dress that Susan had bought her. She blew me a kiss as she rushed by, headed for the kitchen. Since I had skipped lunch, the scents wafting from the oven were starting to make my stomach growl.

Once Kendall was ready, she turned out the dining room lights and appeared in the doorway, a nimbus of candlelight surrounding her. I stood and smoothed my slacks. In her heels, Kendall was actually a little taller than I, so I stretched upward to kiss her. Then I pulled her close and kissed her harder.

“Thanks for fixing dinner,” I said.

She lowered her eyes and smiled shyly.

“Although… the way you look in this dress, I might just decide to skip dinner and see how you look out of it.”

We ended up having dinner after all. She had fixed roast chicken with new potatoes and corn, along with a salad. I tried not to eat too much, but it was delicious.

Afterward, we let the candles burn down and finished the bottle of wine. Then we moved to the living room couch. From there, things quickly progressed to my bedroom. Kendall looked even better without the dress, but I didn’t have much time to admire her body, since she knelt in front of me and began teasing my dick with gentle kisses.

“If you’re a good girl,” I promised, stroking myself as she kissed my balls, “I’ll come on your face.”

With that, she immediately opened her mouth and wordlessly begged me to let her suck my dick.

“Stick out your tongue,” I directed, and she did. Then I ran the underside ridge of my cock along her tongue. The crown of my shaft entered her mouth, but I pulled back quickly, teasing her.

She moaned in frustration.

“Okay, you can suck me,” I said at last. When she wrapped her lips around my glans, I sighed quietly. Then, “Oh, that’s nice.”

For the next several minutes, she sucked me, trying to swallow as much of my length as she could. Even though I had promised to come on her face, I wanted to take my time. So I relaxed and simply enjoyed myself as I watched her fellate me.

“Stand up,” I said a little while later. “I want to fuck you.”


“I know,” I replied. “But I want to fuck you first.”

When she stood, I bent her over my dresser. Then I concentrated on the round, voluptuous curves of her ass. With a hand on each cheek, I spread her open. Then I eased my shiny cock between her alabaster thighs. I felt the warmth and heat of her pussy, which sent shivers of anticipation up my spine.

Finally, I pulled back and used one hand to steady my dick at her opening. She gasped when my bulbous glans spread her open. After I slid the first couple of inches into her, I stopped. Her pussy was tight, very tight, and I usually had to ease into her. This time was no exception, so I pulled back and prepared for another slow thrust.

Kendall moaned when I sank half my length into her pussy. When I went to pull back, her inner walls gripped me, their heat infusing my senses and making me lightheaded. Another thrust and I buried most of my length. With a grunt, I pulled back, the ridge at the crown of my cock making her shudder in ecstasy.

After teasing her for almost a minute, I finally jerked my hips forward and slammed home, her ass rippling with the impact. When I looked at her face in the mirror, it was contorted in pleasure.

As I began thrusting, my eyes were drawn to her pendulous breasts. Each time I slammed into her, they swayed in opposite directions, gravity eventually reuniting them in the middle. Their motion was hypnotic, and I soon fell into a rhythm.

In order to keep from coming too soon, I made a little game out of trying to influence the swinging of her breasts. The harder I thrust, the wider the circles. When I slowed down, her breasts slowed down as well, gently swaying side-to-side. I picked up my pace again, watching her hanging globes widen their arc and then slap together.

Suddenly, I remembered the conversation with Wren on the ride down from Knoxville. Even though Kendall’s pussy felt incredible, I pulled out, causing her to grimace at the loss.

“Lie on the bed,” I directed without explanation.

“Where are you going?” she asked as I headed for the door.

“Just lie down,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

In the bathroom, I quickly found what I was looking for. When I got back to my room, Kendall looked at me curiously.

“Lie down,” I said, gesturing at the bed. “On your back.”

“What’re you—”

I rolled my eyes and simply pointed at the bed.

With a confused look, Kendall crawled onto the bed and lay on her back.

I flipped open the cap on the bottle I’d brought from the bathroom. Then I squirted a zigzag line of baby oil in the shallow valley between Kendall’s flattened breasts.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going to fuck your tits,” I said.

Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. And anticipation.

“And then I’m going to come on your face.”

“What should I do?” she asked eagerly.

“Just spread the oil around and then push your breasts together,” I said as I straddled her chest.

Her eyes alight, she quickly complied.

I grinned as her fingers lingered over her sensitive nipples.

Then she grasped her pliant breasts and pushed them together, creating a mountain of tit-flesh with a crease in the middle.

I edged forward, my glans pointing at the crease. Then I gripped the base of my shaft and aimed. Finally, I eased forward and my dick slid between the warm flesh of her breasts.

When my pelvis finally brushed against her hands, I grinned at her. Then I tweaked her nipples, sending shivers of delight through her body.

Once I began thrusting, Kendall had a hard time holding on to her breasts. Her hands were slippery from the oil, and she had a lot of breast to hold on to. Nonetheless, I was getting worked up at the mere sight of my cock sliding between her mounds. I wasn’t in danger of coming, though, since I kept getting distracted each time she lost her grip.

Finally, I decided that fucking her tits was a fun visual, but it wasn’t the best way to have sex. So I squirted some baby oil into my palm and gripped my shaft. My cock was hard and red, and my hand glided over it. Kendall watched in fascination.

After stroking myself for several minutes, I hunched forward. Kendall sensed my impending explosion and lifted her head, her eyes glassy with lust. With a grunt, I arched my back, throwing my hips forward. My dick swelled, and I clenched my jaw in ecstasy.

When the first spurt arced out, Kendall gasped. My eyes were clamped shut, however, so I simply kept stroking myself. Three more hard spurts followed the first, and Kendall writhed as they splashed onto her face. Finally, the spurts slowed to gushes, and then the gushes to a trickle. I squeezed the base of my shaft and let out a final grunt.

Kendall captured my dick in her mouth, but immediately spit it out.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, looking down suddenly. Her face, covered with droplets of semen, was twisted in disgust.

“Baby oil tastes… yuck!

In spite of myself, I laughed.

“You try it,” she said. “It’s pretty gross.”


Once I stopped chuckling, I smiled to take the sting out of my reaction. She smiled in return and then delicately wiped an errant drop of semen from near her eye.

“Do you want me to get you a towel?” I asked.

She immediately shook her head.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Will you…?” she asked, flicking her eyes toward her pussy, her voice husky with desire. “I want to—”

Before she could finish, I practically leapt between her legs. She squirmed when I licked her slick channel. At the top of her slit, I wrapped my lips around the hooded bead of her clit. Tangy, fresh moisture assaulted my taste buds as I flicked my tongue against the protective hood.

Kendall thrashed and then moaned in pleasure. When I looked up her body, over her flattened breasts, I realized that she was spreading my come over her face. With her other hand, she started tweaking her nipples. I smiled to myself and resumed my attentions.

It didn’t take me long to work her into a frenzy. Her hips bucked as I licked the slippery folds between her inner and outer lips. I held her in place with my hands on her inner thighs, but her spasms were too powerful for me to suppress without bruising her soft flesh. So I let her buck, my neck absorbing the shock as her hips shot upward.

When she grew quiet, I knew she was getting close. Moisture flooded my mouth as I sucked her inner labia between my lips. I flicked the sensitive folds with my tongue, driving her higher. Then I thrust my index finger into her opening, caressing her inner ridges.

As soon as I reached the final knuckle, I crooked my finger and felt the ridge of her pubic bone. Behind it, I teased her inner spot. She gasped once and then went rigid, her hips several inches off the bed.

I smiled to myself and redoubled my assault on her clit. The little pearl had emerged from its hood, but I merely circled it with my tongue, avoiding direct contact. The pressure from the retracted hood was enough to push her over the edge.

Her hips bucked again, but she didn’t make a sound. Instead, I felt her pussy contracting around my finger as a rush of moisture flooded over it. I pursed my lips and sucked her clit, hood and all. Then I put pressure on her inner spot with my finger. She rewarded me by slamming her hips into my face, threatening to give me whiplash with the force of her orgasm.

I kept right on teasing her, though, driving her higher with lips and tongue and finger. When she finally sagged to the bed, she sucked in a huge breath. I kept teasing her clit, but she quickly pushed me away, her hand covering her pussy protectively.

I smiled to myself, her juices already cooling on my cheeks.

On Friday, Kendall wanted to do some Christmas shopping. She bought presents for her family, and was secretive about one she bought for me. She didn’t have a big budget—neither did I, really—so we finished by mid-afternoon.

On the way home, I pulled into a shopping center and parked in front of a women’s clothing store. I was familiar with it, since I’d been there to shop for Gina. (It was the store where the salesgirl had modeled a pair of stockings for me, more than a year before.)

“What’re we doing?” Kendall asked.

When she unpacked her suitcase the day before, I noticed that she didn’t have any matching bra and panty sets. Hers were nice enough, but they were an assortment of colors and patterns. So I wanted to get her some sexy underwear, some “good stuff.”

Her eyes lit up when I explained.

“So, c’mon,” I finished. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I wanna watch you try things on. And then tonight…”


“I thought you could model for me.”

She practically leapt out of the Jeep.

Since the store wasn’t at a mall, it wasn’t very crowded. It was a Friday night, though—and before Christmas—so there were six or seven customers inside. I was the only guy in the place.

I looked around the store, searching for the salesgirl who had modeled the stockings. Luckily, she still worked there. She was just like I remembered her: tall, leggy, and platinum blonde, with dark eyes, a fantastic body, and full breasts. She was wearing a pink sweater dress that hugged her curves and showed off her amazing figure. As unobtrusively as possible, I steered Kendall toward her.

“Can I help you?” the salesgirl asked, smiling as we approached.

“My girlfriend’s looking for a bra and panty set,” I said, preempting Kendall. “Something sexy.”

“Certainly,” the salesgirl said, her eyes smiling. “Right this way.” At the back of the store, she showed Kendall a rack of bra and panty sets. “What size are you?” she asked, professionally eyeing Kendall’s chest. “I’d say… a 38D. Right?”

Kendall blushed, but nodded. “Sometimes, I’m a DD,” she added, glancing at me sidelong. “But that depends on the bra.”

“You don’t need to measure?” I asked.

Kendall flashed me a startled look.

I tried not to appear as lecherous as I was feeling.

“I think you’re right,” the salesgirl said after a moment. “We’d better measure.” Then she winked at me.

With a mischievous grin, I held Kendall’s eyes as the blonde retrieved a cloth measuring tape.

“I need to measure without your sweater,” the salesgirl said to Kendall. “Do you want to use one of the dressing rooms?”

“Why don’t you just step behind the wall,” I suggested. Then I nodded toward the floor-to-ceiling partition wall that screened the dressing rooms. Since the other customers were out in the store itself, we’d have the alcove to ourselves.

“You want to watch, huh?” the salesgirl asked.

With a comical and not-so-feigned leer, I nodded. I was trying to defuse Kendall’s tension, but I also wanted to make the salesgirl laugh. Fortunately, I managed to do both. (I guess I was flirting.)

“I’m Felicia, by the way,” the salesgirl said.

“I’m Paul,” I said. “And this is Kendall.”

The girls exchanged pleasantries and then Kendall looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Then she took off her sweater. Even in a bra, her breasts were inspiring, and this time was no different. I wasn’t in danger of getting a full-blown erection, but my dick stiffened at the sight.

Felicia reached around Kendall’s midsection and then pulled the tape taut, under her breasts.

“Why do you measure down there?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I thought you’d actually measure… um… higher.”

“You must not buy bras very often,” Felicia teased.

“I quit wearing them back in the 70s,” I said dryly. “Women’s lib and all.”

She laughed. “You measure under the breasts,” she explained, “and then you add five inches.” With that, she read the tape. “Thirty-two inches,” she said to Kendall. To me, “Now add five.”

“Thirty-seven,” I said.

“Bras don’t come in odd sizes, so you round up to the next even number.”

“Okay, thirty-eight.”

“Just like I said,” she said with a smile. Then she loosened the measuring tape and raised it. When she tightened it around Kendall’s bra-clad breasts, she surreptitiously glanced at me.

As I watched the two of them, I thought about Kendall’s fantasy of sex with a stranger. Felicia certainly fit the bill, and I got the impression that she was interested in me. She had modeled the stockings for me, way back when, but it was more than that. I’m no lothario, but I could usually tell when a woman was attracted to me.

“Forty-two inches,” Felicia said, her hands at the level of Kendall’s nipples.

“What’s that number for?” I asked, curiosity drawing my mind back to reality.

“The difference between the two numbers is the cup size,” she explained. “One inch per cup size: A, B, C, D, etc.”

“Thirty-eight D,” I said, somewhat proud of myself.

“Just like I said,” Felicia repeated. “But since we rounded up to get the bra size, she might wear a DD cup.”

“Just like I said,” Kendall said to me, her eyes smiling.

“I guess I need to buy bras more often,” I agreed with a laugh.

“I still think he just wanted to watch us,” Felicia said to Kendall.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked rhetorically.

Felicia gave me an appraising look.

I arched an eyebrow in reply.

At that, Kendall grew anxious.

“Let me go get a bra for you to try on,” Felicia said to her. “Just to make sure we got our measurements right. I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing?” Kendall whispered when the blonde was out of earshot.

“Your fantasy,” I said. “You, me, and a stranger?”

Her eyes widened. “But I thought…”

“You thought we’d do something with Wren?” I asked softly.

She nodded.

“We might. But right now, I thought…”

“With her?” Kendall asked, nodding toward the departed salesgirl.

I nodded. “Don’t you think she’s attractive?”

You do,” she said, dodging the question.

“Of course I do,” I answered. “I mean… look at her. But do you?

Her embarrassed blush was confirmation enough.

“And I think she’s definitely interested in me,” I said.

“Oh, she is,” Kendall said, confidence banishing her nervousness.

“Do you think she’s into girls?”

“I… I… I don’t know,” she said. “Oh, this is crazy, Paul,” she said suddenly. “We don’t have to do anything. We don’t even know her.”

“That’s what makes it hotter,” I said, reading the desire behind her apparent change of heart. I knew her well enough to know that she was simply suffering a bout of uncertainty. At the mention of a possible threesome with the lissome blonde salesgirl, Kendall’s breathing quickened and her cheeks grew flushed. She was interested, all right, her protests notwithstanding.

“I don’t know, Paul,” she said. “What if she—”

“Here’s one for you,” Felicia said, returning. “Try this on.”

With that, she handed a cornflower blue bra to Kendall.

Kendall gazed at me, her eyes full of doubt.

“Try it on,” I suggested. “I’m sure it’ll be like a fantasy come true.”

She caught the subtle emphasis, and her nostrils flared as she drew a ragged, excited breath.

“Are you okay?” Felicia asked. “You look flushed.”

“I’m okay,” Kendall said after a moment. “It’s just warm in here.”

It wasn’t, and we all knew it. When Kendall closed the dressing room door behind her, the blonde salesgirl leaned close to me.

“Why is she nervous all of a sudden?” she asked.

“She’s not. She’s excited,” I said.

Felicia flashed me a questioning look.

Instead of answering, I smiled as mysteriously as I could.

“Excited, huh?”

I nodded.

“Do you think she’d like to try on some stockings and a garter belt?” she asked, all of a sudden. “If I remember, you liked the ones I showed you.”

I looked at her, shocked. I remembered her, of course, but who wouldn’t? (A beautiful salesgirl who models stockings and garter belt for a then-sixteen-year-old boy? It’s the stuff of fantasy. Of course I remembered her.) But I never imagined that she…

“I thought I remembered you,” she said.

“That was what,” I asked, semi-incredulous, “a year and a half ago?”

“I don’t model stockings for just anyone,” she countered.

I raised an eyebrow.

She moistened her lips and flashed me a sultry look.

Before I could say anything, Kendall emerged from the dressing room. She looked good, but the bra was a little tight, and her breasts bulged above it.

“I was afraid of that,” Felicia said, turning toward Kendall. “Those bras run a little small,” she said. “Let me get you a different style.”

“Oh my goodness, Paul,” Kendall said, a moment later. “I don’t think we should do this.”

I pulled her close. “This is what you said you wanted,” I urged quietly.

“But I don’t know…”

“You know you want to watch me fuck her,” I whispered. “And then I’ll make you go down on her. I’ll fuck you from behind as you lick her pussy,” I said. In reality, I was horny. Worse, I wanted to fuck Felicia, so that probably clouded my judgment. For a moment, I worried that I might be pushing Kendall to do something she didn’t want to do.

“She is pretty,” Kendall admitted after a moment. Then, “Do you think she’d really do it?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded.

“Do you think she likes girls?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I said roguishly.

“What’re you going to do?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“Trust me,” I said. Then I kissed her, hard. My tongue forced her lips open, but then she warmed to the kiss and sighed in reply. I pulled her to me, her body soft against mine.

“Do you want me to leave you two alone?” Felicia asked from behind me. Then she chuckled as Kendall and I hastily pulled apart. “Here,” the blonde said, grinning as she handed a black bra to Kendall. “This should fit better.”

Kendall looked at me, her eyes glassy with lust.

I kissed her again, chastely, and then nudged her toward the dressing room.

“The black bra should go better with her complexion,” Felicia said when the door shut behind Kendall. “And it’s a demi-cup, so it’ll make her cleavage look fabulous.”

When Kendall emerged from the dressing room, I had to suppress a gasp. Felicia was right, the bra really made Kendall’s breasts stand out. They were firm, but still jiggled enough to be enticing. I couldn’t see the edge of her areolas, but they were barely hidden by the bra cups.

“What did I tell you?” Felicia asked.

“No kidding,” I said at last.

At that point, two women entered the dressing area, intent on one of the rooms. We became businesslike. I stood outside the dressing area as Kendall tried on several more colors of the same style bra: white, turquoise, red, and beige. They all looked good on her, but she kept returning to the black.

“You look best in the black,” Felicia agreed. Then she looked at me for confirmation.

“Sweetie,” I said to Kendall, “I think you look great.”

Before I could say anything else, the two women left the dressing area and headed toward the cash register.

“Really,” I repeated to Kendall, “you look fan-fucking-tastic.”

“We’ve got a pair of panties that match,” Felicia said. Then she eyed Kendall’s waist and hips. “Small or medium?”

“Probably small,” Kendall said. As soon as Felicia left, she rushed over to me. “Oh my goodness, Paul,” she gushed, “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Are you sure? Do you really think she will? Has she said anything? What if she—”

“Whoa, there,” I said softly. “Calm down. One step at a time,” I added. Then, “Do you want to get dinner after we leave here?”

She looked at me, confused by the non sequitur.

“Maybe we could see what time Felicia gets off work…,” I prompted.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

That’s because you’ve never tried to seduce a woman before, I thought. Then, Gina would’ve figured out the dinner thing before I did.

“Here you go,” Felicia said, returning.

Kendall flashed me an excited look before retreating to the dressing room.

“She’s so thin,” Felicia said. “Especially with those big boobs. I wish I looked like that.”

“Why? You look pretty hot already.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked, eager for the attention.

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. Then I let my eyes roam over her body.

She smiled and tried to look demure, but it was just an act. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then she glanced at me from under lowered eyelashes. Her look was anything but shy.

I sensed an opportunity, so I quickly suggested that Felicia pick out some stockings and a garter belt for Kendall.

“You don’t want me to model them for you?” she asked.

“Why don’t you both model for me?”

“And what would your girlfriend think of that?” she asked, as if she’d caught me.

“I think she’d like it,” I said smoothly.

Felicia raised her eyebrows.

“She’s very… flexible,” I said, mentally chuckling at my double entendre.

“Oh, she is?”

“Mmm hmm,” I said. “I wish more women were like her.”

“Uh-huh,” Felicia murmured speculatively. Then, “Will you excuse me for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

When she walked around the partition wall, I peeked after her and watched as she spoke to another salesgirl. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell what their conversation was about, but Felicia smiled as she turned and walked back to the lingerie section.

I ducked behind the wall and grinned to myself. As I did, Kendall came out of the dressing room. She looked stunning (even with her short white socks, which she hadn’t taken off).

“Wow,” I said.

“Wow,” Felicia echoed from beside me.

“Do you like it?” Kendall asked.

I couldn’t figure out if she were talking to me, or Felicia. Once again, I grinned to myself. Then I surreptitiously made sure my burgeoning erection wasn’t noticeable.

“I like the belly chain,” Felicia said, nodding at Kendall’s waist. “That’s cool.”

“Paul got it for me,” Kendall said.

“I like the pendant, too,” Felicia said.

“It’s like a road sign,” I said, trying not to grin. “You know, in case I ever get lost.”

Kendall tittered nervously, but Felicia laughed out loud. Still chuckling, she gestured toward a rack of garter belts.

“Paul thought you might like to try on a pair of stockings,” she said.

I shrugged playfully when Kendall looked a question at me.

With an excited, nervous smile, she nodded.

Felicia quickly fetched a pair of black stockings and a garter belt.

Kendall took them and returned to the dressing room.

“A road sign,” Felicia muttered, shaking her head and still chuckling.

“This way to the promised land,” I said irreverently.

“The promised land, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” I said, grinning. Then, as casually as I could, “Kendall and I were thinking of getting dinner after we left here.”

Felicia gave me a speculative look.

“So… what time do you get off?” I asked. “Work, I mean.” The last part was calculated, and she rewarded my gamble with a sultry smile.

“One of the other girls is closing,” she said. “So I can leave anytime.”

“Cool. Why don’t we finish up here and then find someplace to eat?” I suggested.

“Your girlfriend is… ‘flexible,’ did you say?”

“She’s very flexible,” I agreed. Then, “So, are you up for it?”

“I don’t know,” she mused.

My heart started to sink.

“Are you up for it?” she asked coquettishly.

Instead of answering, I smiled and inclined my head.

“Uh-huh,” she said doubtfully.

Before I could say anything else, Kendall emerged from the dressing room. With the matching bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings (seamless, with lace tops), she looked fantastic.

“Holy bombshells, Batman,” I said absently.

To my surprise, Felicia frowned.

“What?” Kendall asked, suddenly nervous.

Before she could answer, a middle-aged woman and her daughter walked into the dressing area. The woman looked at me as if I were an interloper. When she looked at Kendall, she huffed derisively and then ushered her daughter into one of the dressing rooms.

In my mind, I flipped her the bird. But then I had a brilliant idea.

“Why don’t we… um… step in there,” I suggested, nodding to Kendall’s dressing room. It was big enough for the three of us, but just barely. Even better, it would be a lot more private. Perhaps I owed the huffy lady a debt of gratitude after all.

Once inside the dressing room, I moved behind Kendall, while Felicia stood in front of her.

“Let me show you a little trick,” Felicia said, smiling to reassure Kendall. “If you don’t mind…,” she continued, indicating the garter belt. When Kendall didn’t object, Felicia knelt in front of her and began unfastening the clasps holding the stockings up.

As she did, Kendall looked back at me, her eyes wide with a combination of anxiety and excitement.

“If you put the garters straps on over your panties,” Felicia explained, “then you can’t take them off without undoing the straps.”

“Ah,” Kendall and I said in unison.

“Do you mind if I…?” Felicia asked, vaguely indicating Kendall’s panties.

Kendall smiled nervously and then said, “No, go ahead.”

When Felicia had all four clasps unfastened, she reached up and threaded one under the satiny fabric of the panties. Before she could pull it tight, however, I had another brilliant idea.

“Here,” I said, “let me help.” With that, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of Kendall’s panties and tugged them over her hips. Since the garter straps were undone, they didn’t interfere.

Kendall gasped in shock as I deftly lowered her panties to her knees.

At that point, it was Felicia’s turn to be shocked, since she was suddenly face-to-face with Kendall’s perfect, hairless pussy.

From where I bent over, still grasping Kendall’s panties, Felicia and I locked eyes. I smiled and arched an eyebrow, daring her to react.

With deliberate aplomb, she reattached the stockings to the garter straps and then flashed me a defiant—and aroused?—look.

I silently pulled Kendall’s panties back into place.

“There,” Felicia said, standing. “That’s much better. Now you can go to the bathroom.”

“Or do anything else you might want to do without your panties,” I added cockily.

Both women blushed at that.

“Do you really like it, Paul?” Kendall asked, a little nervously.

“Turn around and show him,” Felicia suggested. When Kendall did, the blonde flashed me an intrigued look.

I hastily shifted my eyes back at Kendall. “I think you look incredible, baby doll,” I said.

She gave me a funny look—half surprised, half aroused—but then smiled.

“I invited Felicia to dinner with us,” I said to Kendall. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” she said, her cheeks coloring. “I’d like that.”

Kendall looked over her shoulder at the blonde, and I surreptitiously shifted to relieve my straining erection.

“Why don’t you change clothes and then we’ll go,” I suggested to Kendall.

“You can’t make her take all that off,” Felicia protested. “She looks so sexy, it’d be a shame.”

Kendall looked at me, her eyes hopeful.

“And what good is sexy lingerie under a sweater and jeans?” Felicia continued. “She needs a dress.”

“Please, Paul?” Kendall asked softly.

Who was I to refuse?

“Sure,” I said at last.

“Perfect!” Felicia said. “I know just the one. I’ll be right back.” With that, she opened the dressing room door and dashed away without even closing it. A moment later, she returned with a wine-colored sweater dress, similar to her own pink one. “This is perfect,” she said to Kendall. “With your figure, it’ll make you look even hotter.”

Her word choice—“even hotter”—didn’t escape Kendall’s notice.

Kendall and I shared a look that spoke volumes. Then she turned her attention to Felicia and the dress.

True to the blonde’s prediction, Kendall looked even sexier. The dress hugged her curves, and the sides were slit to mid-thigh, revealing her nylon-encased legs.

“Wow,” I said softly, almost reverently. For a moment, I wondered how much Kendall’s outfit was going to cost, but then I took another look at her and decided not to worry about it. I gazed at her for another few moments and then looked her in the eye. “You look beautiful.”

She blushed suitably.

“You really do,” Felicia agreed.

“Thank you,” Kendall said.

We stood in silence for a moment, the sexual tension practically crackling between us.

“Let me get all the tags,” Felicia said at last, “and then I’ll ring you up.”

When Kendall began to gather her street clothes, however, she realized that she couldn’t wear her sneakers with the fancy outfit.

“Oh, we sell shoes too,” Felicia said helpfully. “What size are you?”


“Okay. I’ll be right back.” With that, Felicia went to pick out a suitable pair of shoes.

Since the huffy woman and her daughter had left, Kendall and I emerged from the dressing room as well.

When Felicia returned, Kendall tried on the shoes. They were a little tight, she said, but they matched the outfit. When she stood up straight, however, she frowned. In a flash, I realized why: in the three-inch heels, Kendall was a good two inches taller than I.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” I said.

“I don’t like being taller than you,” she said. “It’s just not… right.”

“I think you look fine,” Felicia said.

“Exactly,” I agreed. Then I pulled her close and gazed up at her. “This way,” I said, my eyes darting to her ample breasts, “I’m closer to the parts I really like.”

Kendall flashed me a faux-betrayed look, while Felicia merely chuckled.

“C’mon,” I said, “let’s go pay for everything and then find somewhere to eat. I’m starving.” And horny, I added silently. Then I mentally grinned as I watched Kendall and Felicia walk to the front of the store.

As Felicia rang up the price tags, I started to get nervous. I had a grand total of fifty dollars on me, and the dress alone cost more than that. I began to outright panic as the total soared over a hundred dollars. Then I thought of my emergency credit card. Mom had left it with me when she and Erin headed to New York.

When the total flashed on the cash register, I tried not to gulp. Then I wondered how I was going to explain $288.40 worth of “emergency” clothing.

With barely a tremor, I handed over the Visa and prayed that Felicia didn’t pay attention to the name on the card. Fortunately, she didn’t, and I signed the receipt.

“Let me get my things and clock out,” Felicia said.

Kendall hugged herself to my arm as the blonde headed toward the back.

“Wow,” I said, more in shock at the price than anything else.

“Thank you, Paul,” Kendall said softly. Then, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh my goodness, you’re going to get so lucky tonight.”

We ended up at a steak restaurant near the Perimeter. It was a Friday night, so it was crowded. I put my name on the waiting list and then we retreated to a corner of the waiting area.

Since our backs were to the wall, I put my hand on Kendall’s ass and gently squeezed. Then I gambled and put my hand on the small of Felicia’s back. When she didn’t even flinch, I lowered it to the top of her ass.

She glanced at me and arched an eyebrow. We had a silent conversation with our eyes. When she didn’t seem to object, I decided to go for broke—I lowered my hand to her ass itself. She moistened her lips and then pressed back against me.

With that, we both attempted to look innocent, but I kept my hands on the girls’ asses. Occasionally, I rubbed them, the fuzzy wool of their sweater dresses tickling my palms. After several minutes, Felicia leaned close.

“Do you like what you feel?” she asked quietly.

I paused for a moment to savor the feeling as her breast touched my side.

“Hmmmm?” she pressed.

“I like it a lot,” I said. Then I traced my finger along the seam of her panties. “Do you want me to stop?” I asked, as artlessly as I could.

“No, you’re fine.”

“Fine?” I asked.

“Okay,” she admitted after a moment, “maybe you’re more than fine.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning.

We waited for almost forty-five minutes. The whole time, I played with the girls’ asses. I never did more than that, though, but both of them seemed to be getting worked up. Felicia’s breathing had quickened, and I easily recognized how horny Kendall was. When the hostess finally called my last name, I reluctantly took my hands off the girls.

As we followed the hostess, I hoped for a booth, since it would afford a little more privacy. Unfortunately, the restaurant was packed, so we had to settle for a table.

As soon as we sat down, I suggested a bottle of wine (and prayed that the waiter wouldn’t ask for my ID, since I was still too young to drink). Felicia wanted red wine, while Kendall and I didn’t care one way or the other. So I ordered a mid-priced bottle that had an interesting name.

Luckily, the waiter simply took my order and went to fetch our wine. After he poured it, we placed our dinner orders. Then we made small talk, mostly about the quality of the food at the restaurant, since Felicia had been there before.

When she drained her wine glass, I refilled it. A moment later, to my surprise, Kendall asked for a refill as well. Within fifteen minutes, we had to order another bottle of wine. I still had my original glass, but both girls had drunk two glasses apiece.

“Mmmmm, this is good,” Felicia said. “You sure know how to pick a good wine.”

“I have a talented tongue,” I said.

Kendall nearly choked on her wine.

“I’ll bet you do,” Felicia said. Then she turned to Kendall, who was still sputtering. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kendall said, patting her lips with her napkin. Then she smiled at me a little drunkenly.

“Why don’t we go fix our makeup before supper gets here,” Felicia suggested.

Kendall readily agreed, and they headed toward the restrooms. When they returned, they both looked more composed. They both looked more excited too, so I wondered if they’d been up to something in the restroom. I couldn’t come right out and ask, so I settled for pouring more wine. After I did, our conversation turned to clothes, music, and everyday things, but half of it had a sexual undertone. None of us were being overt, but sex was definitely on our minds.

When our dinner arrived, I poured the last of the wine into the girls’ glasses. I had only managed to drink about two glasses, so they were both a little tipsy. Our steaks were delicious, although neither of the girls ate very much. I didn’t eat very much either, but I did finish most of my filet.

“Would you like to see the dessert menu?” the waiter asked as he cleared our plates.

We looked at each other and then shook our heads in unison. With that, the waiter retrieved the bill and laid it by my elbow.

“So,” Felicia said, letting the word draw out.

“So,” I echoed. Then, “Do you have plans for later?”

She shrugged artfully.

Before I could say anything, I felt her foot run along my leg.

She leaned back and gave me a speculative glance, her eyes hooded from all the wine.

“Maybe we could do something,” I suggested.

She arched an eyebrow. Then she glanced at Kendall, who smiled diffidently.

“I was thinking that Kendall could model her new lingerie,” I said.

“Oh?” Felicia asked, taunting me.

I mustered my courage. “Maybe you’d like to watch,” I said.

“Or maybe you’d like me to model too,” she replied saucily.

Kendall’s breathing quickened, and she reached for my hand under the table.

“Maybe,” I said to Felicia. “Do you have nice lingerie?”

“Ha! I’ve got stuff that’ll blow your mind.”

“I’ve seen a lot,” I countered. “So it’ll take a lot to impress me.”

Her eyes flashed at the challenge. Then, “My apartment’s fifteen minutes from here.”

“Is that an invitation?” I asked, letting my lips quirk up in a smile.

“I dunno, is it?”

“It sounded like one,” I said.

“Then I guess it was,” she said. At that, she took a sip of wine to cover her excitement.

I glanced at Kendall for confirmation.

Her face was flushed with arousal, and it took her a moment to notice me looking at her. When she did, her eyes said “yes” better than any words could.

“Sounds perfect,” I said to Felicia.

“Let’s take a powder before we go,” she said to Kendall.

They shared a look and then stood. As they walked away, I admired their bodies. When I looked at the bill, however, my thoughts immediately turned apprehensive; I wondered how I’d explain $95 of “emergency” food and wine. Since it was my only option, I took out the Visa and laid it atop the bill. The waiter retrieved it a moment later.

When the girls returned to the table, they seemed excited. Kendall flashed me a wild look, her eyes full of sexual energy.

“I like Kendall’s shaved pussy,” Felicia whispered in my ear as she sat down.

“I like it too,” I said.

“She said this is a fantasy of yours,” the blonde continued, leaning close.

Kendall swallowed hard and returned my glance with a nervous blush.

“Something like that,” I hedged.

“So, what,” the blonde asked, “d’you wanna make it with two girls at once?”

I couldn’t help myself—I chuckled. “No,” I said at last.

She arched an eyebrow in question.

“I do that all the time,” I said, more for shock value than anything else. At her surprised look, I nodded. Then I smiled, deliberately avoiding her unspoken question. “So,” I asked instead, “are we ready to go?”

Underneath the table, Kendall squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers in reply and then flashed Felicia a suggestive look.

“All the time, huh?” she mused.

“Mmm hmm.”

She looked at Kendall for confirmation.

Kendall blushed and then nodded tentatively.

“Oh, really?” Felicia asked me.

“Yep,” I said. Then, “So, do you want us to follow you to your apartment?” I asked her. “Are you okay to drive?”

“Oh, I’m fine. You can follow me.”

When we arrived at her apartment, I was surprised; it was an upscale complex, with tasteful architecture and nice landscaping (leave it to me to notice the architecture and landscaping). Inside the building, I got another surprise, since her apartment was a lot bigger than I expected.

“Do you have a roommate?” I asked.

She shook her head and then turned on the foyer lights.

“How do you afford a place like this?” I asked, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to be seducing her. Note to self: Questions about the rent are not sexy.

“My boyfriend pays for it,” she said.

“Boyfriend?” I asked, suddenly uncertain.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “He doesn’t actually live here. He just pays for it. Besides, he’s not even in the country right now.”

I looked a question at her.

“He lives in Argentina.”

“Argentina?” I asked, a little confused.

She nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Then she led us toward the kitchen. “Here,” she said, handing me a bottle of red wine. “Open this. The corkscrew is in that drawer over there,” she added, pointing. “I wanna go powder my nose.”

Kendall looked at me, as if asking permission.

I nodded. She certainly didn’t need my approval to go to the bathroom.

When the girls returned, they both looked a lot more excited. Kendall seemed a little embarrassed, though, so I figured that they’d been Up To Something after all. That suited me just fine.

I passed each of them a glass of wine and we drank.

“Why don’t we get a little more comfortable,” Felicia suggested, nodding toward the living room.

I strategically sat in the middle of the couch, with Kendall on my left. After Felicia adjusted the lights and turned on the stereo, she settled to my right. Then she kicked off her shoes, crossed her stocking-clad legs, and hooked her foot behind my calf. When I glanced at her, she smiled.

I put my arm around Kendall and pulled her possessively close. She tucked her feet beneath her and took a sip of wine. She’d had a lot more alcohol than she was used to, so I studied her for a moment. I was feeling the effects of all the wine, and the girls had drunk more than I had, but neither of them appeared to be drunk—just buzzed. That was strange. I wondered…

“So,” Felicia said, drawing my attention back to her, “what’s this fantasy of yours?”

“Just a fantasy,” I said enigmatically. I couldn’t figure out why neither of them seemed drunk, but when Felicia flashed me a sultry, almost smug look, my thoughts abruptly changed direction.

“Lemme guess,” she continued, “you want to watch Kendall make it with another woman.”

“That’s part of it,” I said, my erection throbbing in anticipation. “But I’ve seen that before.”

“Oh, you have?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“So you think I’ll just fall into bed with you two?” Felicia asked, her eyes flashing in challenge.

“No,” I said simply.

She arched an eyebrow.

“But I was hoping…”

She laughed.

“And we’re here,” I continued, gesturing at her apartment. When I set my hand down, I rested it on her leg instead of mine.

She took a sip of wine to cover her reaction.

“But we can leave, if you want,” I said, toying with her. I could see the lust in her eyes, but I also realized that she didn’t want to appear too eager.

“I think I’ll let you stay,” she said, a little quicker than she normally might have.

“Thanks,” I said earnestly. I really did want to stay, because I wanted to have sex with her, but I didn’t want her to think I was too eager either. Instead of saying anything else, I looked her in the eye and drew my hand up her leg another inch or two.

She pointedly glanced at my hand. When her eyes met mine again, they flashed, daring me to do something else.

I took her dare and tugged the hem of her skirt upward. It slid over her thigh, revealing more of her stocking-clad legs, as well as the dark valley between her thighs. Our eyes met again and she lifted an eyebrow. I purposefully moistened my lips and then cocked my head to the side.

She took a sip of wine, her eyes never leaving mine. Then she took a deep breath, her breasts rising as she inhaled. Her nipples were hard, and threatened to poke through her bra and sweater dress.

I inclined my head, as if to ask, “What’s next?”

“Well,” she said at last, “if we’re going to party, I’m gonna get out the party favors.”

“Of course,” I agreed, although I really didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

When she stood, however, she gave me a seductive look.

I watched her as she walked away, bound for the back of the apartment.

“Are you sure we should do this, Paul?” Kendall whispered when Felicia was out of earshot.

“Aren’t you having fun?” I asked.

Her blush and stiff nipples were all the answer I needed.

“Do you want to watch me fuck her?” I asked, my voice pitched low.

Kendall nodded.

“Do you want to go down on her?”

“If you want me to,” she answered tentatively.

“I do,” I said. Then I kissed her. When I pulled back, her lips were shiny from the kiss, and her eyes were still closed. “You look incredibly fucking sexy,” I whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed at me. “Oh, Paul,” she breathed, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Do you really want t—”

“My boyfriend brings this stuff from Colombia,” Felicia said, interrupting us as she entered the room. “It’s really good snow.”

Kendall squirmed and looked at me, her eyes wide.

“Snow”? I wondered. What’s she talking about? “Snow,” as in cocai—

In shock, I watched Felicia hold a mirror-like plate to her face. She put a small glass tube to her nostril, pressed the other closed, and inhaled. When she finished, she pinched both nostrils shut, closed her eyes, and shuddered.

“It’s really good snow,” she repeated euphorically. Then she opened her eyes and looked at us.

I was speechless. I knew what cocaine was, but aside from the movies, I’d never actually seen it. Pot and acid were all around my high school, but I always avoided them. I’d heard about kids using coke or speed, but I never actually knew anyone who had.

“Here,” Felicia said, extending the plate to Kendall. “Ladies first.” Then, to me, “I cut you a fat line, though, since you started late.”

Started late? What the f— “Thanks,” I said, too shocked to say anything else.

To my utter disbelief, Kendall took the proffered plate. She glanced at me nervously, but then seemed to steel her nerve. Time slowed to a crawl. I watched as she picked up the glass tube and put it to her nose. She didn’t do it as confidently as Felicia had, but she wasn’t awkward either. When she inhaled, I could actually see the white powder flying upward. With her eyes still closed, she set down the tube and then quivered.


That was a preview of Advanced Swinging - Summer Camp Swingers: Kendall Series Book 4. To read the rest purchase the book.

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