Does Talk Lead to Action?

Yeah, John loved blow jobs - what man doesn't? - but I wasn't going to give him a long, slow one this time. Nope, I just got him from half-hard to full past, pulled my shorts and panties off in one motion, and then got on top of him for the ride.

When was the last time I got on top? It must've been years! John was laying there, on the bed, but with his knees bent and feet on the floor, when I climbed on top, my knees to the side of his hips, grabbed his cock and guided it into my pussy. I put my hands on his chest, foe balance, and just started riding him. He wasn't fucking me; I was fucking him!

Oh, wow, this was great. I'd already been a little bit horny anyway, but this, taking control in a way I just wasn't used to doing, hadn't really done for a decade, was turning me on to the max, and I could see, it was doing the same for John. He had a huge smile on his face, just laying there, letting me ride him.

Yup, this was definitely going to be a quickie, because I could feel it rising in me, fast, and that was a good thing, because it was obvious: John wasn't going to last too much longer, either.

Then John put his hands on my hips, adding some of his muscle to my downward plunges, and tensed his hips, raising them off the bed a bit, trying to get deeper into me as we came together. I had to bite my lip, to keep from crying out, despite our many years of practice at not making too much noise, and I just know that my face was a contorted grimace, just as my release was beginning, because John's was, too. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, and then John used his hands to hold my pussy tightly against his hips, as he unloaded inside of me.

Finally the tension subsided, and I just plopped down beside my husband, our orgasmic grimaces gone, and nothing but smiles on our faces. Yeah, it had been a quickie, but it had been an uncommonly good one.

"Damn, Jane, I'm going back to Cincy, if this is what I get when I return home." John was happy, and I was happy that he was happy.

"So, you liked that, then?" I teased him.

"Uhhh, yeah!" I didn't need him to answer me, because I already knew, but it was still nice to hear.

I went into the bathroom and cleaned up as best I could, then pulled my panties and shorts back on to go downstairs while John finished his interrupted unpacking. Too much time upstairs, with the doors closed, and the kids would know what had happened, even with us having kept quiet. Julian certainly would, and Mary was getting old enough that she might not be totally clueless about what men and women did together, though I'd expect her attitude to be, 'Ewww, that's gross!'

I started cleaning up the breakfast dishes - I had let that slip while Gail was here - before I noticed, when I passed the mirror in the dining room: I had that 'freshly fucked' look on my face. If any of our friends came over now, they'd certainly know, and I wasn't sure if Julian had smirked at me or not.

Damn it, kids sure could put a damper on your sex life!

"How about we all meet over at the pool, and we'll have a barbecue?" That was Linda, calling around to all of the Beatle houses, and it sounded like a good idea. She always had a lot of food, and plenty of wine, and sometimes hard liquor. Since we all lived in the same subdivision, we didn't have to drive, so there were no worries about driving home drunk. The kids knew that these were adults only gatherings, and with George and Joan's daughter Margaret being old enough, she wound up 'supervising' the other children over at George's house. Julian went over to his friend Marty's place instead, so who knows what kind of trouble fourteen-year-old boys were getting into?

There was sun and there was shade over at Linda's house. Paul had a pretty fancy cook-out set-up, one he could roast a whole pig in if he wanted. As is typical, the guys wound up drinking beer around the grill while Paul cooked, while us girls congregated together. Linda had already finished making the 'auxiliary' fixings of potato salad and cole slaw, so the 'women's work' was done. Sometimes I want to bitch slap myself for thinking in those very much unfeminist terms, but it's still the truth!

It wasn't a bad day for sunning ourselves, hot but with enough clouds passing over to break up a constant sun. We'd all worn our bikinis under shorts and tops, because a pool part is a pool party, you know?

We'd been gossiping among ourselves, and I kept my ears cocked, to see if Gail had mentioned anything at all about her near-fling with Bill to Linda or Joan, but nothing was said, at least not that I had heard, which would indicate that she'd spilled the beans to any of them.

Of course, we did have to talk about sex, and my story of John and my quickie sure helped the other girls' moods. We normally sunbathed topless when it was just us girls, but had only done so a few times with the husbands around. It was Gail, of all people, who said, "We need to get the party going," as she whipped off her top.

Naturally, the rest of us followed suit - pun most definitely intended - and the sight of four topless wives laying out in the sun got our husbands' attention pretty quickly.

"What, you think we want tan lines?" I teased John.

"You'll still be getting tan lines," he shot back, his eyes on my skimpy, but still not a thong, bikini bottom.

"Uhhh, not today, John," I replied, then added, more quietly, "Why, do you want the other guys looking at my pussy?" He didn't have an answer for that, and shut up.

Well, I may have lowered my voice for that, but that doesn't mean that Paul didn't overhear me. He responded, loudly, that yeah, the other guys wanted to see, and then Joannie and Gail chimed in with their versions of "No, just no."

More alcohol was consumed.

It was a couple of hours later, and the guys were just about finished with the barbecue, when Linda pulled us four topless girls together and said, "You know what would tease these guys even more?"

"No, what?" Joan asked.

"What say we all go out and get matching nipple rings?"