We found Allison and Mike both waiting for us in the living room, fully dressed in their clothes from the day before. They handed us our own stuff, smiling shyly.
“We need to go back to our room and get changed,” Allison said.
The tall, athletic woman met my eye and for a second, a little spark of happiness raced through her eyes. Like she’d flicked a switch, the highlights of our coupling the night before started speeding by me.
Allison’s sharp, brash smirk. Her muscular thighs clutched around my waist. Her long fingers gripping at my chest hair. The taste of her vagina, so strong and sexy; just like Allison, herself. The way her little breasts and oh-so-sharp nipples felt in my palms. The sounds she made as her orgasm overtook her. My cock buried deep in the fluttering grasp of her pussy.
I could tell that Allison was reliving it all, too. Both of us, trapped in our memories, staring at each other in the middle of the living room. Bathed in the unflinching heat of the Florida sunlight.
“We’re already running behind,” Mike said, breaking us out of our shared reverie.
Allison startled. She nervously tucked her poker-straight, strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. It was strange to see it all undone and hanging loose. In some ways, it felt more intimate than if she had one of her tits hanging out.
Emily and I got dressed right there in the living room. More than anything else that morning, it was a reminder of how far we’d come in a few days. Not that long ago, we’d been sitting in a hot tub, afraid to show the littlest bit of skin. Now we were casually naked in the living room, like this was just another morning.
Cassie, now dressed in a fresh blouse and jean shorts, hurried over from the kitchen. I’d seen her completely naked that morning, hugged her. Yet I’d been so focused on Emily that I hadn’t processed it.
Now that we were fully clothed, however, I was knocked over once again by how natural Cassie’s beauty was. Her flawless body and striking face. She was waking up, hadn’t done her make up or hair, yet still she looked better than most women after they spent hours primping themselves. People who looked like Cassie weren’t supposed to spend time with people like us. People who looked like Cassie weren’t supposed to exist.
The beautiful blonde woman gave each of us a quick kiss on the cheek. Like a mom sending us all off to school. When she got to Mike — standing at the end of the line like we were in a strange, post-orgy, wedding procession — Cassie grabbed his hands and pressed her mouth to his.
“I’ll catch up with you at breakfast,” she told him, a silly grin playing on her face. Like Allison and I a moment before, I could tell the two of them were reviewing their own, vivid remembrance of what they’d shared the night before.
We hurried back through the resort to our room. It was early enough that the paths were mostly empty. Sometime in the night, sprinklers must have run, because the flora around us was all dripping wet and noticeably verdant.
A few people passed us headed in the other direction, carrying trays of breakfast back to their rooms or heading out to the parks. I got the sense that all of them were staring at us. As if they knew exactly what we’d been up to.
Our room was waiting for us like a disapproving parent. I couldn’t think of the last time we’d been in there, let alone slept. Emily and I both dug fresh clothes out of our suitcase and got dressed (shorts and t-shirts for both of us).
Unlike us, Mike and Allison hadn’t had a chance to shower, so they each took a bathroom before getting dressed, themselves. Finally, we all regrouped and hurried back out to the resort.
As soon as we left our building, Allison grabbed my arm, pulling me back. Our spouses kept walking forward, talking amiably about the day we had planned. Like last night hadn’t happened at all. Or worse, very much like it had. A new kind of intimacy that made us all more than friends.
“We should talk,” Allison said, “Before we regroup with everyone. Well, I should talk, anyway.” She gave me a knowing look. I shrugged in response.
The tall, athletic woman was wearing her usual tank top (purple that day) and dark mesh shorts. Her hair was back in its usual tight, tied back state. Now that Allison was fully dressed, I couldn’t stop picturing her naked. Her small, round tits, trim tummy, and perfect, pink pussy.
She was my wife’s best friend — I wasn’t supposed to know how she looked undressed. How it felt to be buried inside her. The faces and sounds she made when she came. The wrong of it was undeniable, but my desire for more was equally inescapable.
Allison must have caught the look on my face because she cocked her eyebrow at me and shook her head. But she couldn’t hide the little grin on her face.
“Last night was…” Allison started, then stopped.
“A mistake,” I said.
“Yes,” Allison said.
“Amazing,” I said.
“Also yes,” Allison said. She barked out a laugh, a good one. Full and happy. “You and Emily are OK?”
“We talked,” I said.
Actually, we’d fucked like depraved animals in the shower, then talked. But I didn’t think Allison wanted to hear that. To be honest, I’d assumed that Allison and Mike had a similar conversation that morning. But now I wasn’t so sure.
“You and Mike?” I asked.
Allison sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine enough.”
“And us?” I asked.
Allison ran her eyes up my body. I realized that she, too, couldn’t stop picturing me naked. What was the point in even getting dressed at this point?
“Oh yeah, we’re good,” Allison said. Her face filled with that lovely, competitive smirk.
The athletic blonde leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips. She grabbed my hand, and we raced off to catch up to our respective spouses.
*
“And I’m saying I won,” Allison said, “Clearly.”
“Sex isn’t a competition,” Cassie said, “It doesn’t work that way.”
“Spoken like someone who knows she lost,” Allison said.
The five of us — Allison, Cassie, Mike, Emily, and I — were all sitting at a table in the outdoor cafe nestled between the lobby and the pool. We sipped our coffees (iced, of course) and munched hungrily at fridge-burned danishes.
After Allison and I had caught up with Mike and Emily on the path to the pool, the four of us found Cassie waiting in the lobby. She explained that Jack was off with his kids for the day, so, it would just be the five of us. Don’t think I missed the look of disappointment on Emily’s face when the beautiful blonde told us.
“I think he’s trying to make up for this morning,” Cassie told us.
She didn’t need explain any more. I tried to imagine coming home and finding my father, post-orgy. A bunch of fat, naked old dudes lying around our living room. The floor, no doubt, covered in the remains of smoked fish and cured, salted meats. It was the only way I could picture it, honestly.
We were all starved (I can’t imagine why), so the five of us grabbed breakfast, then found a quiet spot to sit outside at one of the little tables under an umbrella. It was peaceful — the pool was yet to open — and so everything had a lovely hush. The wind whispered lushly through the leaves.
I expected it might be awkward, considering everything that had happened. Instead, as soon as we sat, Allison announced to the group that she was, clearly, the ‘winner’ of the previous evening’s event. As if she was talking about a foot race or a fantasy league.
And just like that, there we were, bantering about who got boffed the best the night before. Fortunately, the rest of the seating area was empty. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if another family happened to walk by.
“You didn’t win,” Cassie repeated, “There’s no ‘winning’ in sex. Not if you do it right, anyway.”
Allison shook her head in disdain. “Wow, and you were a cheerleader? You must have been terrible.”
Despite the harshness of their words, both women were grinning at each other while they argued. It was playful, almost flirty, honestly. Both Allison and Cassie seemed more than satisfied by the previous evening’s activities. So, it was natural, perhaps, to want to brag a bit. The fact that it had happened with men they weren’t married to only increased the urge to boast, I think.
“Of course I won,” Allison said, “We won. I mean, Paul came three times.” Allison reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “None of the other guys went more than once.”
“I went twice,” Mike said. He’d started to raise his hand, but stopped himself. “It was before. When Cassie was, um, sucking me.”
“They don’t need to know the details, sweetie,” Cassie said, rubbing Mike’s back affectionately.
I looked around the seating area to be sure we were truly alone. I knew I was being silly, acting so paranoid. But it really felt like the Mickey police were going to come drag us away at any second. Engaging in extramarital orgies was bad enough. Doing them in Disney (and debriefing each other afterward in public) was asking for disaster.
“Three times,” Allison repeated, holding up her fingers. “Three.” She spread the word out to multiple syllables, smiling broadly. Though my lack of staying power might have been embarrassing to me, apparently it was quite the accomplishment to the athletic woman who’d done it to me.