Summer Swap 4.12

Byron had more questions but before he could ask them, Carla said they had to go back out to the deck so they weren’t rude to Lily and Arlo. Byron said Lily and Arlo were still down in their room, and Carla said if Lily and Arlo came up they’d find no one around and that wasn’t a nice thing to do. Byron had to agree. While the four of them were walking up the stairs to the next deck Byron got close to Cheyenne and said, “Why were we there?” Cheyenne said she didn’t know, her mouth squirming around, brow lowered as she considered it.

They ran into Arlo and Lily in the kitchen. They’d changed clothes and looked rosy cheeked and happy. From the choices of fucking or fighting, Byron would bet Lily and Arlo were down in their room fucking, given the glow they both showed.

* * *

On their way down the stairs to the level below, Scarlet stopped them all. “Are we ready for this?”

Paloma lay her warm hand on the center of Scarlet’s back. “That’s what we want to find out, wouldn’t you say?”

Scarlet looked down at the deck. “I’m not sure if that’s what I want to find out.”

Sully took her arm. “We don’t have to do anything at all, Scarlet.”

She looked up at her husband, could see the concern on his face, the way his brow furrowed, the reluctant flatness in his eyes. He was scared. Scared, she figured, of Paloma. Scarlet looked to Paloma now, standing expectantly, her monster-dick husband acting as some sort of talent scout, finding two of their friends who would play their games with them.

But were she and Sully the kind to play their games? It had seemed they were last night, the way it had all come together in such a supportive and amicable way. But what they aimed to do right now was as improbable as when she and Sully and Byron and Chey had tried to force it all happening. That had ended with disgruntled laughter.

Paloma came nearer to Scarlet, her posture slackened with concern, her brows tented. “I am too strong, yes?”

Philippe added, “Coming on too strong.”

Scarlet said, “You’ve always been so quiet, it’s— I don’t know, I guess it’s like I don’t really know you.”

“I think maybe that is more exciting,” Paloma said, cocking one eyebrow and smiling.

We didn’t know Philippe that well,” Sully said.

Paloma said, “You do now.”

Scarlet grimaced, then made reluctant eye contact with Paloma. What was it that scared her off this roost so bad? Was it because she’d been in charge last night and now it didn’t seem like she was in charge at all? That’s what Sully would say if she’d had a chance to talk to him first.

Paloma’s chin dipped down, and she lowered her gaze so it was even with Scarlet’s, not above hers. Paloma was tall. That was part of it, too. It was hard for Scarlet to deny she liked being taller than other women, prettier, more dominant. Did Paloma intimidate her? She was tall and beautiful, tanned and exotic in her Brazilian manner.

Paloma laid a hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. “I know what you need.”

“You do?”

Paloma said, “Foreplay— no, um momento... Not foreplay, uh, it’s... it’s...”

Philippe caressed her slender shoulders. Paloma snapped her fingers. “Seduction! Seduction, yes?” She looked up at Philippe for the praise she figured she deserved. Philipe chuckled, dark eyes sparkling in the nighttime light.

“Seduction is the perfect word.”

Paloma showed a sultry gaze to Sully and Scarlet. “You need to be seduced.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sully muttered, rubbing an arm.

Paloma said, “Who doesn’t like to be seduced?”

“So, what,” Sully said, retreating to his sense of humor, “you’re going to take us out to dinner, hold our chairs out for us, pay for the meal?”

“We just ate,” Paloma said, frowning.

Philippe said, “He means how will we seduce them?”

“Ah,” Paloma said now, nodding, eyes narrowing. “We will find out what you like, make you like us, make you trust us.”

“Earn your trust,” Philippe said, and Paloma agreed with his clarification.

Sully got Scarlet’s attention, and she faced him. He said, “What do you think? It was good last night...”

“Well, that’s another thing: I’m not sure I’m ready for another round just yet.”

Paloma cocked her head and Sully said, “She’s still recuperating.”

Scarlet let her hand drift down to her tummy, just below her belly button, feeling weird doing it, but wanting to explain better for Paloma without having to say it.

“Oh, I see, I see,” Paloma said, nodding and smiling. Then: “I take good care of you.”

Now Paloma slunk arms around Scarlet’s shoulders and got close to her, embracing, smelling of musky talc perfume, her soft skin sliding on Scarlet’s soft skin arousing a strange case of the goosebumps. She whispered in Scarlet’s ear, “And maybe you relax, you drink, you watch me and Sully, we show you, entertain you... What do you think?”

And there was another thing that intimidated her about the whole prospect: the idea of Sullivan and Paloma together stirred up some jealous syrup from the bottom of her bowl. But that was an awful way to be, a way she should rise above.

Paloma reached behind her and hooked a toned arm around Philippe’s beefy arm. “Maybe the three of us entertain you. We put on a show, or . . . maybe we bathe your body with our tongues...” She showed a devilish smile that got Scarlet’s eyebrows raising high.

Now she felt the arousal that had been missing. Her heart picked up its pace and thundered beyond the heavy weight of dread that burdened it. A path clarified before her and she could see herself letting go, exploring more, doing more of what she did last night and going even further. Paloma and Philippe were beautiful people. Confident, comforting, and eager to have her. One thing she hadn’t yet done was tempt her own fears of surrender. The idea this couple would take control excited the hell out of her. She didn’t have the gusto to dominate Paloma. At least she didn’t think so. She would have thought Carla would be a more intimidating partner, but that probably wasn’t right. She would butt heads with Carla and she wouldn’t back off. Between her and Carla she would think she deserved the control, or that maybe Carla didn’t deserve it more than her. But with Paloma?

She said, “Let’s go to the hot tub.”

* * *

Group sex in a hot tub was cliched as fuck, but here they were. Here they were and he was excited as all get out. First thing he couldn’t wait for: seeing Paloma naked.

The woman was drop dead gorgeous and sexy and smoky. And that accent? God damn.

When he pushed his shorts down, his cock sprang out and nodded up and down, stiff as a rail. He waited for Paloma to look over. He didn’t have what her husband had, but it was pretty damn good and it worked well. When he looked to the side, Scarlet was still clothed, standing there texting.

“What are you doing?”

Scarlet kept texting, saying, “Talking to Chey.”

“What for? To come down?”

Scarlet tucked her phone in her back pocket and shot him a look like he was stupid. “Tell her to stop anyone coming to the hot tub.” Then she looked down at his erection. “You think everyone is cool coming down, seeing you naked in a communal tub?”

Philippe said, “I think most everyone is fine with us getting in the tub naked, Scarlet.” He shoved down his shorts, his enormous dong half-inflated, down to the middle of his thighs, a large flesh club emerging from nest of thick pubic hair. Scarlet’s eyes went right to it, watching it squirm and dangle as Philippe stepped his muscular legs out of his shorts and stripped off his shirt. The look on his beloved’s blushing face didn’t annoy him; it bolstered his own excitement at the anticipation of seeing Paloma reveal her sexy body. He would ogle her as freely as his wife ogled Philippe. It seemed like they’d bypassed all those initial jealousy hangups and could exist now in a freer place where they were free to experience sexuality without harsh marital constraints; free to enjoy that wonderful riling of imminent sexual pleasure.

Scarlet answered in a robotic monotone, hypnotized by the swinging watch of Philippe’s huge organ. “Naked is one thing, but what if we’re... what if we’re...”

Sully stared at his wife’s mesmerized profile. “What if we’re what?”

When Scarlet didn’t answer, Philippe said, “Ocupado?”

Paloma chuckled a soft and sweet sound. “Ocupado, sim. Muito ocupado.”

Scarlet said, “Are we doing that here, ocupadoing?”

Now it was Sully’s turn for hypnosis, watching Paloma lift that light cotton dress, reveal her long tanned thighs, her pale yellow panties, her tight stomach with a small jewel pierced in it. Then, good lord, bare breasts with tight dark brown nipples like Easter chocolates. She tossed the dress away and shook out her thick chestnut hair, metal bracelets singing, her ribs pressing her skin, her muscle rippling. In his periphery he was aware that Scarlet was studying him. A natural wave of shame passed through him, feeling disrespectful toward his wife just by looking at another beautiful woman. His eyes moved from Paloma’s naked body toward Scarlet’s unhappy expression.

She said, “Is that what we’re doing?”

He smiled, seeing her look wasn’t chastising him over ogling another woman—it was unsureness. His own guilt had tainted his perception. “We’re not doing anything we don’t want to, Scarlet. I’ll follow your lead.”

Scarlet smiled, her head cocking, her eyes warm. Maybe the first time in a long time he remembered having said the right thing in a situation.

Now his wife submitted to the moment and undressed in front of them all. Philippe watched, his freak show penis growing, extending, one ball going up, then down; it was like an entity in the group all on its own. Paloma’s eyes danced over Scarlet’s bare body as she removed all her clothing. When she was naked, it was Paloma who went to her first, catlike and purring, touching Scarlet’s chest, her brown hand running up and down between Scarlet’s breasts. Scarlet’s eyes widened, and her nipples condensed to hard rubbery buds.

“Look at your body, you are so beautiful, oh my goodness. Your skin, it’s so pale, so perfeita.”

Scarlet sucked her lips into her mouth, unsure how to respond to the strong advances of a sexually aggressive woman so good at disarming her prey.

Paloma continued her grunted sounds of sexual rapture, caressing Scarlet’s shoulders and arms, and stomach—but never touching the hot zones—admiring everything his wife had without crossing a line. Sully watched his wife’s arm hairs raise and her nipples tighten even further.

Scarlet said, “You’re, uh... you’re so beautiful, too.”

Paloma giggled and locked arms around Scarlet’s waist, hugging her hard in the middle, forcing their tummy’s together. Scarlet bowed back, her face retreating like she was reluctant, like she feared Paloma would kiss her with the great hunger that seemed to burn inside her.

Sully’s eyes lowered to admire Paloma’s tight round bottom in her yellow panties. Her skin was dark, her butt cheeks showing paleness where the underwear didn’t cover. Her panty covered mound was mushed right against Scarlet’s bare muff. His cock throbbed with his heartbeat, begging for action.

Paloma caressed Scarlet’s blushing cheek. “This is not a folia.”

“A what?”

Philippe said, “This isn’t a fling.”

Scarlet looked aside to Philippe, one foot on the step up to the hot tub, forearm on his thigh, big dick swinging. She said, “It’s not?”

Paloma smiled, still gripping her arms around Scarlet’s middle. “No, no, it’s more. More, more, more.”

Philippe clarified for Paloma. “Before we begin, I want you to know, we want you to know, we’re doing this because we want a relationship.”