Bastille Day Ch. 05

Before those thoughts were finished, Marge snorted with slight, wry smile and nodded again, then replying softly:

"I got myself into this. Yes, after my eighteenth birthday party, after the guests left. He was chaperoning, parents not at home, keeping couples from doing too much in the dark; sort of set the scene, and we weren't sober, so we ended up doing what the others probably had wanted to do - not all the way, but eventually everything but."

"Oh?! Really?! With your brother?!"

Marge nodded with very wry smile. Anna's expression was a very surprised one as she looked at Marge with wide eyes and then glanced at me. After a moment she said to me:

"I guess you knew already."

I nodded. She snorted, smiling slightly, and then looked back at Anna and remarked:

"Well, I guess ... if you both wanted to?"

"We did; the party was Friday night, and our parents only returned on Sunday, time enough to clean up."

"All weekend?"

"Something like that, first time either of us had done 'everything but'."

"Hmm! Like we did yesterday?" Anna asked with a glance at me.

"Maybe even that good," Marge replied with a chuckle.

Anna and I nodded, exchanging smiles and also chuckling, and we all smirked. I reached out and patted Anna's knee, remarking:

"Last night, before you were lying on me, I wondered if I had had a daughter like you, whether I would have wanted to do anything with her, maybe if she would have wanted to do something with me."

"Probably," Marge remarked with a snort. Anna snorted with a grin, nodding, and added:

"If she were like me."

We all smiled with more nods. I snorted and remarked:

"Better not ask your father, if he is like me."

Before I finished my spontaneous remark, I realized that it was I more than Marge who was suggesting that she should. Of course, I could identify with her father, and she had already said that we were somehow similar. Marge snorted and remarked:

"I wasn't going to mention that."

Anna snorted with a slight smile, but didn't say anything, letting me think that she recognized the implication that she might want to do something with him, especially when she changed the subject:

"Anyway. Oh, we told them that they could come to our room tonight; they sort of suggested it, and, ... well, it would have been rude not to let them, ... after all we have done. We told them that tomorrow night we didn't want to do anything, and they understood."

Marge and I nodded with understanding smiles, Anna then snorted with another wry smile and remarked:

"Guess we all know what we're going to do, ... like last night - hmm! - probably both ways."

"One sure way to avoid any one-on-one," Marge replied.

We all snickered, nodding. I looked at Marge and remarked:

"If you think that could be a problem, we can go back to sleeping in separate beds."

"Hmm! I doubt it, ... that we could. I'll risk it; too many nights back home for that."

"For me, too," I agreed, both of us smiling. Anna nodded and remarked:

"Back home, I really don't have a friend, not one I'm sleeping with - yet. Probably we will, if he hasn't met someone else during his vacation on Cyprus."

"I hope not," Marge replied with smile.

"Hmm? I guess so. ... Kind of different than here, you know, supposed to be about love and maybe staying together."

"Of course," Marge agreed, and I nodded. Anna nodded in response and then snorted with a smirk, adding:

"Sure won't be like here; didn't know anything could be like this. ... Hmm? We haven't even talked about it - that we might - but I don't think he knows as much about it as I do; ... might be difficult to let him know what all I like, without his wondering why I do. Don't want him asking what I've been doing here."

I nodded, but then replied facetiously:

"Just lying around shyly naked and reading some book with explicit sex, 'cause nothing happened."

Anna snorted with a smile. Marge also snorted, but remarked to me:

"That's too unlikely. You know how the men look at her."

"Do they?" Anna's nipples popped out.

I nodded with small grin, replying:

"Maybe especially because you haven't noticed; something would have happened, but I think it is better that you met Ron and Willy."

"Yes, thanks Marge. I hadn't thought of that. Anyway, hope he doesn't ask, if we do, back home."

"If he is nice and the right guy, he won't," I assured her, hoping I was right.

Anna smiled with a nod and said that she had better go back to Petra, snorting and explaining:

"I left her alone; they said they wanted to see what else is here before we leave."

"Then you'd better, with greetings from us," Marge replied.

Anna smiled and stood up, givíng me - us - what turned out to be the last view of her naked, second to last; we watched her depart. When she was just another one of the nude girls to be seen, Marge remarked:

"You like her."

"Don't you? I've been wondering what might have happened if I had a daughter."

"Yes, I do too, Hmm! That also occurred to me."

She smirked, and we nodded.

That night in the bar and at dinner, there was more talk about the flash mob project, lots of positive response, but of course, some questions about affording another trip to Europe. After dinner, Marge and I took a walk, not holding hands, just enjoying each other's company with few words. We had a nightcap in the bar and returned to our room. As we were undressing. now like a married couple just getting ready for bed, she murmured:

"Tapering off?"

"Um-hmm, what I was thinking."

We smiled and went to the bathroom, maybe not quite like a married couple, at least, not like mine had been, seldom together in the bathroom. I wondered if "tapering off" suggested separate beds, but it didn't; she immediately held up the covers for me to join her. Lying separately, we said goodnight and fell asleep. During the night, however, we moved together with just soft hums in our half-sleep, as I curled up behind her with my arm around her, and fell asleep again.

I was dreaming, something about my wife when I first met her.

With hindsight, maybe the young woman in my dream was the way I imagined my daughter could have been. For sure, we were pretty close to doing something father and daughter shouldn't do. Since I had never dreamt about my wife - not like that - I expect that the moral filter made me assume that it was my wife in younger years. The dream got better, more arousing; she was holding my cock, when I heard her murmur:

"Oh, I was dreaming."

That didn't fit in my dream; my wife - or daughter - wasn't dreaming, but her fingers were definitely touching my cock, rubbing a little where it felt good. I was still trying to incorporate this in my dream, when she spoke again:

"Oh, it's you. Hmm, of course."

Did my wife - or daughter - in my dream think I was someone else? Who? But I had my arm around her. That didn't fit in my dream either. I wanted my dream to continue, but couldn't reconcile with it what she had said and the recognition that my arm was around her.

"If you want to," she murmured, and her fingers were pressing on my cock.

Oh, I wanted to, still trying to keep my dream alive, agreeing: "um-hmm," even if my dream was beginning to fade, to my disappointment. I had had such dreams before, trying to continue them with fantasies as I relieved myself.

But not this time I realized, as I slowly woke up, remembering where I was and that I was lying with my arm around Marge, as I felt her ass rock back against me and her fingers press my cock into her pussy - muschi, as she called it. My hand found her breast, and then we both were fully awake.

I moved and shoved my cock deeper in her, and we both chuckled softly. I murmured:

"I was dreaming too, but it got confused by your remarks."

"Hm-hmm! Sorry. Mine, by recognizing that it wasn't just a dream."

"Sorry too."

"Um-hmm, this is better."

"It sure is. Won't ask with whom."

"Hm-hmm! Couldn't see him, behind me. Not one of you, I don't think, but I'm glad it's you now."

"And you, too."

I squeezed her breast, and we had a nice long fuck with her fingers trying to do what Anna's or Petra's or Willy's or Ron's tongue could have done. With satisfied moans, we relaxed. When I remarked:

"Just 'tapering off' didn't mean not doing anything," she snorted and agreed:

"Nice, that it just happened like this, since we both were dreaming about it."

"Very! It's still dark. Sleep tight."

"You too."

We did. I hope that she also had the pleasant, satisfied feelings that I had.

At breakfast in the morning - our last day - we saw the four sitting together and greeted them, find that they were exchanging email addresses. Anna smiled up at us and said she would give us hers too, and wrote it on two slips from the block they were using. Petra then also wrote hers on the slips. We promised to write them so that they would have ours, and went to the buffet.

We spent the morning on the beach and swimming as usual, by now so accustomed to so much nudity that we hardly noticed. In the afternoon, Marge thought that she should buy souvenirs for her brother and sister-in-law and their boys, and we went to the shops, eventually finding things that weren't too suggestive about nudity. As we left the shop, she snickered and said:

"They won't believe it when I tell them that we were naked going in and out of the shops."

"Just as well. When will you see them again?"

"Not sure, whenever."

We returned to our room and showered together, as thoroughly as usual but without any erotic implications, and then began to pack, chuckling about the unused clothes we had.

At the bar and during dinner, the talk was about how successful Buffy's idea had been and about returning home. Since we had to get up early for our flight to Paris, the session in the bar after dinner was shorter than usual. Sans-culotte and Stephan and the couple of other Europeans in the group said that they would be up early for breakfast, so that we all could say goodbye in the morning. Anna and Petra were leaving later, but also said they would be up with us. We all said goodnight and went to our rooms.

As Marge and I undressed and used the bathroom, we made conversation about how nice the trip had been, avoiding any references to all the sex or expressions of disappointment about separating. As we were about to lie down, I suggested that we didn't have to sleep together. She snorted and replied:

"Not that much tapering off," and we lay down together. It was too early to go to sleep, so we lay on our backs, still making conversation. After a few minutes, she reached over and found my cock and murmured:

"We're not going to be able to go to sleep if we don't do something."

"I was willing to try, but I think you're right, especially now that you've mentioned it."

We chuckled. She fondled my cock and then began to turn around under the covers. We started slowly, more enjoying what we were doing than what the other was doing. She was just gently sucking my cock, and I was just gently exploring her muschi, enjoying the taste. Eventually, however, our hands slipped around and our fingers began to increase the sensations for each other. We still didn't hurry, exchanging hums in agreement, but they also felt good, making it difficult not to want to make it feel even better for each other. We gave up trying to prolong the pleasure of anticipation.

She scrambled around, lying half on me, and we kissed. She murmured:

"I just had to do it one last time."

"I'm glad; I wanted to, too, just like that."

"Mmmm, you did. One last kiss; I don't like airport farewells."

It was a very good kiss, maybe expressing what we hadn't mentioned before. Her head dropped down on my shoulder, and we murmured goodnight, and then did easily fall asleep.

The wake-up call rang, and we got up and washed, which, of course, including my shaving. Then we put on "real clothes," as Marge remarked with a chuckle, and finished packing. In the dining room, everyone looked a little strange in their travel clothes, subject of a couple of remarks.

Then it was time to say goodbye to those not taking our flight, everyone not just shaking hands, but hugging, which I don't really like, although it seemed more appropriate here than elsewhere, after having seen each other naked for two weeks. I had no problem with giving Petra and Anna nice hugs, of course, especially Anna, who immediately pressed her hips and breasts to me and looked like she wanted to kiss me, but we just rubbed cheeks. She murmured "thanks" in my ear. When we separated, I felt like I was blushing a little, recognizing that the others had seen that I got a better hug than she had given the others.

At the airport, having agreed that in Paris we all would be rushing off, the rest of us said goodbye with more hugs. Those of the roommates were naturally better, Marge's at least as good as Anna's. She also looked like she might want to kiss me. I wouldn't have minded, but she didn't. Still hugging us close, she murmured:

"The tip of tapering off," and we thanked each other for a wonderful vacation.

Since we had booked in together, we had adjoining seats. We didn't have much to say. I was surprised when she raised the armrest between and put her hand on my thigh. We exchanged smiles, and I put mine on hers. Both our fingers moved a little, and we exchanged um-hmms. Of course, we couldn't hear them in the plane, but I knew from two weeks with her that we both knew that the other would respond that way. Then she gripped my thigh and said:

"I should have said how good it all was with you."

"With you too, especially. Should have said so first."

We smiled and pursed our lips - really the tip of the tapering off. Before we left the plane, we promised to keep in contact via email, and then we went our ways.

Monday at the office, I had to respond to comments about my tan, avoiding mentioning that it was seamless and that I had been at Cap d'Agde. A closer friend caught me at the coffee machine, however, and winked and asked:

"One of those places in France where everyone goes nude, where clothes aren't allowed on the beach?"

"You've been googling too much on internet."