Arrival Day

About an hour into our 3-hour drive, the sun broke through a four-day autumn gloom and lit up a dazzling display of autumn color. My wife, Sophie, and I had lucked out as the next three days promised to be crisp and cool in the evenings and warm and sunny during the day for our fall getaway. It seems that money had always been too tight to take a non-family getaway. Even though two nice promotions had raised our income bracket, a mortgage and 8 years of college tuition kept us scrimping and economizing. But now both kids have graduated, gotten decent starting jobs, and they are finally off the books. For the first time in years, we had some disposable income. So, we had booked a room at the historic Jacht Huis Inn and Spa.

The Jacht Huis was the former hunting lodge for a wealthy robber baron from the gilded age. The two square miles of virgin Appalachian forest surrounding the lodge had been turned into a state park many years ago, but the lodge has always been privately owned and the recent addition and renovations to the historic lodge by the new owners have been very favorably reviewed. The new rooms have a fireplace and jacuzzi while the historic rooms have been refurbished (all with ensuite bathrooms and balconies) and outfitted with late 19th century antiques and art. We booked a ‘jacuzzi room’ and were really looking forward to some biking, some canoeing, partaking in the award-winning cuisine and, I hope, more than a little romance.

The Jacht Huis was situated on a forested hillside overlooking the confluence of two rivers and provided a panoramic view of the vibrant autumn colors of the surrounding forest. Next to the river was a picturesque two-lane country road. Truly breathtaking.

We started to remove our bikes from the car rack, when two women exited a small shed near the parking lot and walked toward us. Both were our age, perhaps a bit younger, but remarkably well preserved. I am 6-2 and one was nearly my height, willowy, blonde with Scandinavian features, and small breasts with pointy nipples that could be rather easily discerned beneath her blouse. The other was a little shorter than Sophie, 5 foot 6 or so, athletically built with an olive complexion, dark hair, Mediterranean features, and a perky bounce to her step. They gave us a key on a heavy chain and told us that they were told to put their bikes in the shed and that we could do the same. They told us to turn in the key when we checked in. We thanked them and they went to the only other car in the parking lot with a bike rack to retrieve their suitcases. Both women were stunningly beautiful for their age. The svelte, leggy, blonde looked great from behind in her capri pants but the shorter one had the most perfect ass I had ever seen on a woman of any age.

Sophie saw me staring and said, “Put your tongue back in your mouth and help me remove the bikes and unload the car.”

After checking in and then unpacking, we toured the grounds near the Inn and decided to take the hiking trail down to a small restaurant about a mile away near the confluence for lunch and a drink. As we were finishing our lunch, the two Sirens from the parking lot walked by our table on the veranda. We exchanged pleasantries and commented on the beauty of the day and view of the river.

Sophie pointed out that I was I was again staring at their backsides as they walked past us, and she suggested that, “They are probably a couple.”

We walked the uphill mile back to the Inn, had a ‘toes up’ for an hour or so in our room, and then decided to change our clothes for our 7:30 dinner reservation at the Inn. My plan included a few glasses of wine in the quaint pub located in the room adjacent to the Inn’s restaurant, get Sophie a bit tipsy, enjoy a wonderful meal, and then have a good romp in the hay. Sophie seemed to be more than willing and had been giving little signals all day that she was in the mood. She even squeezed and pinched my butt on the walk back from the river and she didn’t swat my hand away when I returned the favor and then let my hand linger and massage her butt a bit. She even suggested that I give her a back-rub this evening. Everything about the Inn and the surrounding forest was better than advertised…and we caught the peak of the autumn colors. Truly a sensual setting.

When we arrived at the cozy pub, there was real wood fire in hearth…perfect for the evening chill that was already descending. We took the last of the seven rustic oak tables. As our bottle of wine was arriving, the Sirens stood at the door looking for an open table.

Sophie saw their predicament and waved them over and said, “You are welcome to join us.” They happily agreed. I motioned to the waitress to bring two more wine glasses as we made introductions. “This is my husband George and I’m Sophie.”

The dark-haired Siren smiled and replied, “I’m Angela and this is Ingrid”.

Over the next hour and half, we killed two bottles of wine and the women talked non-stop. Sophie told them of our plans to bike down the River Road for nine miles the next morning to a picturesque town with a couple of art galleries, a couple of interesting restaurants, and an historic town square. Sophie had clearly done her internet planning and invited them to join us on the ride. The Sirens quickly agreed. Angela and I both stated that an 18-mile round trip was at the upper limit of our interest in biking but Ingrid and Sophie, who were more practiced riders, made tentative plans to do a larger bike loop the following day.

As the wine flowed and the women chatted, I learned that Angie and Ingrid were teammates on the same college volleyball team as well as roommates for their sophomore through senior years in college and lifelong dear friends. Angie had two kids that were now adults and one was married with a child. Her husband died unexpectedly of heart attack five years earlier. Ingrid had two boys. Both living the good life on the West Coast and enjoying their bachelorhood. Ingrid divorced four years ago when her husband had a sordid affair with a female politician that made the local papers. Ingrid got the house and a sizable sum of money. According to Angie, Ingrid’s house is spectacular and situated in an established wealthy neighborhood.

At that time of Ingrid’s divorce, Angie was newly widowed and living in a town about two hours away from Ingrid and working as a hospital operating room nurse/technician. When a job opened-up at a hospital near Ingrid, Ingrid insisted that Angie sell her house and move in with her. Both of Angie’s children were out of the house and she was thinking about downsizing anyway. The upkeep and yard work were too much, especially given her long hours at the hospital. Angie said with a laugh, “Ingrid was rattling around in her mansion like a bee-bee in a boxcar.” They were thoroughly enjoying being roommates again.

My job during this chatter was to fill glasses, nod, and smile occasionally. Soon, we were all decidedly buzzed, laughing too loudly, and smiling too broadly. The Sirens seemed to be very close. They finished one another’s sentences and frequently touched one another during their conversations. During one of the rare lulls in the conversation, I asked, “Are you a couple?”

Immediately three things occurred simultaneously. Sophie kicked me in the shin.

And Angie said, “Yes!”

And Ingrid said, “No!”

Angie and Ingrid looked quickly at each other and simultaneously,

Angie said, “No!”

And Ingrid said “Yes!”

I cocked my head and said, “Ooookaaay, that clarifies things” and we all laughed.

As I refilled the glasses, Angie said, “This probably deserves an explanation.”

According to Angie, they were just roommates in college and probably the only girls on the volleyball team who didn’t experiment with same sex relationships, but such things were not as open in the late 70’s and early 80’s. When Angie moved in with Ingrid three years ago, they each had occasional dates with single men but the pickings were rather slim. About a year later, Angie started going out regularly with a guy named Bob who was a CPA. She even spent the night with him after some dates and they did a long weekend in NYC together. Ingrid figured that Bob was getting serious and they discussed what Angie might do if Bob proposed marriage.

Angie told her that, “Living with you would be more fun than living with Bob and that sex with Bob was good but nothing special.”

Ingrid, who was clearly tipsy, chimed in saying, “This means he didn’t give her ass enough attention.”

Angie stood up, turned her ass toward us and said, “He just wouldn’t take any hints, or worse, he didn’t have any interest in my bottom.”

Sophie said, “You better sit down before George’s eyes pop out!”

I exclaimed, “Was Bob blind? Gay? Or just pathologically boring?”

Angie was clearly pleased that I appreciated her derriere and wiggled it a couple of times. As Angie sat back down, she continued her explanation as to whether they are a couple. Angie said, “I told Ingrid that the only part of my relationship with Bob that I would really miss was the long cuddle after sex. But, the actual sex and my climax’s were much better with my toys than with Bob.”

Ingrid then continued the story, “I told Angie that I too missed the cuddling and pillow talk after sex. My toys are great, but they aren’t very cuddly!”

Angie quickly added, “Ingrid has every hand-held sex toy known to womankind and does so much business with EverReady that I bought stock in it.”

Angie went on with the story. “So, we decided to cuddle after we separately enjoyed our toys in our rooms…but getting the timing right was awkward. Eventually, whoever finished first would assist the other to finish. At first, the assistance was limited to some petting and kisses. Then later we added fingers or a second toy, and eventually, there were no holds barred. Soon, our ‘alone time’ evolved into ‘together time.’ So, to answer your question, we are not a couple, we are lifelong friends who have recently added benefits.”

Sophie and I were surprised by their openness and honesty. Ingrid noticed our astonishment and said, “This is the first time we have admitted our ‘friends with benefits’ relationship to anyone. Even our children and closest friends have no idea. I guess we are out of the closet. But what the hell! This works for us, and our friendship has flourished. Neither of us have sworn off guys, but I must admit, Angie really knows how to push all of my buttons!”

We shared a table at dinner, ordered more wine and the Sirens thought that I needed a half-dozen oysters as an appetizer. I told them that “Oysters were overrated as an aphrodisiac.” When asked why, I told them, “Last Saturday night I ate six and only the first five worked!” Angie was taking a drink of water and laughed so hard that water came out her nose. Ingrid almost choked and I was pleased that I had found a new audience for such an old joke.

Sophie told the Sirens, “Don’t encourage him by laughing at what our kids called ‘dad jokes’ …which rhymes with ‘bad jokes’.”

After the main courses, we all shared a piece of cheesecake and the women made a great show licking the rich dessert from their spoons. Angie winked at Sophie and slurred, “If that sixth oyster works and you need some help tonight, let me know.”

Ingrid said, “What about me?”

Angie responded, “I thought you were recharging Big Bart’s batteries.”

Sophie looked at the Sirens and said, “Big Bart sounds fun too. Let me know when it is my turn with him!”

I informed them, “Sophie has a bit of a toy fetish, too.” Sophie slapped my arm as I motioned for the check.

On the way, to our room Sophie asked, “Did you enjoy having two attractive women flirting with you?”

I replied, “There three attractive women flirting with me and I loved it. Did you like having two attractive women flirting with you?”

Sophie thought for a second and asked, “Do you really think they were flirting with me too?”

“Wellll”, I said, “the three of you did stare at one another and make great use of your tongues when you lapped the cheesecake from your spoons. I thought that was pretty suggestive.”

I opened the door to our room and before the door even closed, we were snogging like teenagers. Soon Sophie snaked a hand below my belt and urgently stroked my dick through my pants. I slipped my hands into the back of her pants, cupped her ass and then ran my fingers between her legs. She was positively steamy. Sophie humped my fingers a few times before pushing me away.

She told me to turn on the gas fireplace and turn off the lights. She retrieved a small velvet bag from the bathroom containing her ‘vibrating egg,’ massage oil and lubricant. She then opened the drapes, letting the nearly full moon shine into the room. In the moonlight, she did a slow strip tease revealing her new and rather sexy lingerie before encouraging me to remove them. She then crawled onto the bed and sprawled out with her face down.

“Still interested in giving me a backrub?” she asked.

Sophie maintains that I give a superior massage and I enjoy giving them as they always end in enthusiastic sex. Sophie inserted the vibrating egg into her pussy, and I straddled her legs and poured oil onto her back. As my hands stroked and kneaded her neck and shoulders, Sophie cooed, “That’s wonderful!”

I worked my palms between her shoulder blades and down the sides of her back while my fingers massaged the sides of her breasts and my fingertips lightly tweaked her hardened nipples. I marveled at Sophie’s beauty. At 5 foot 8, 150 lbs. she wasn’t as willowy or striking as Ingrid. Nor was she as curvaceous and perky as Angela but her avid gardening, biking, yoga and reasonable diet kept her fit and Miss Clairol kept dark blonde hair as youthful as the day we met. Most importantly, she was young at heart, adventurous, and willing to try new foods, new theater and music, explore new ideas, and she was uninhibited in bed. Moreover, we were great friends with a long history who knew, and accepted, one another’s foibles. We had no secrets and were confident in our love. I found this to be an immense turn-on even after 33 years of marriage.

As I massaged her lower back, soft moans escaped her lips and her hips subtly rose to meet my full mast dick. I dribbled more oil onto her bottom and palmed and massaged her globes. I then slid my hands forward to shoulders once again which caused my dick to slide between the cheeks of her ass. She cooed and lifted her bottom imperceptibly to meet me. I could feel the vibrations of the egg in her pussy. Each time I slid my hands from her ass to her shoulders, my cock slid from her pussy lips through her ass cheeks. Again, I palmed her ass but this time I let my thumbs massage the rim of her pucker. Sophie lifted slightly and her rosebud opened a bit. I slid my left hand down to the entrance of her pussy and it opened and swallowed my thumb which joined the vibrating egg in her pussy. The fingers of my left hand reached down and teased her clit as my thumb pumped slowly in and out of her pussy.

Sophie was climbing rapidly toward climax when she turned beneath me onto her back. I was still straddling her legs and she leaned forward and swallowed my dick whole, gently massaged my balls, and she slid an oily finger into my ass. She looked into my eyes and requested that I make this ‘a deluxe backrub’ which was her way of asking for anal sex.

I started to reach for the lubricant and Sophie said, “Use your tongue,” and got onto all fours and dropped her head to mattress.

I got behind her and used my palms to separate her cheeks, blew softly on her rosebud, then took several long firm tongue laps from her pussy to her rosebud before working my tongue around and around the rim. I then buried my tongue inside her. Both holes were completely open as my thumb once again slid into her pussy and my tongue worked her ass. She pushed back onto my face. As I lapped and poked with my tongue. I could feel the egg vibrating through the walls of her ass.

Her hand went to her clit and started to rub. I pushed it away as I did not want her to orgasm until my dick was buried in her velvet confines. Sophie, in an uncharacteristic outburst of vulgarity, pushed my face from ass and urged me to slam my dick up her ass. As she sunk down to mattress, she reached back and pulled her cheeks apart.

I paused and admired the wanton beauty as I squirted massage oil onto my dick and her open ass. I then slid my well-oiled cock smoothly into her well-oiled ass. She reached her hand down between her stomach and mattress and began to work her clit. This raised her ass to a perfect angle to plow her…and plow her I did. The egg vibrating through the walls of her pussy added to my and her sensations.

Soon, Sophie’s legs straightened, and her toes curled, her whole body started to vibrate and squirm, and I lunged forward and shot the first volley of cum deep into her bottom. She moaned and when I plunged into her again and shot the second volley into her ass. Sophie panted, “Oh god, it’s so good. I’m cumming, don’t stop.” Her moaning filled the room, and when I unleashed the third volley her squirming nearly dislodged me. Her entire body tensed, and her ass, with me on top, rose 8 inches off the bed and convulsed as I pumped a final spurt deep into her. We then collapsed onto the bed.

As our breathing slowly returned toward normal. I rolled onto my back and Sophie quickly pulled the egg from her pussy and turned it off as it was now just too much for her. “I may have to borrow extra batteries from Ingrid,” she said.

I replied, “THAT was a great fuck! I hope I can still peddle a bike tomorrow.”

Day 2

We met the Sirens at 8:30 for breakfast and ate heartily. Sophie and I then returned to our rooms, filled our water bottles, and quickly changed into our biking gear. Angie and I loaded our bikes onto my car, and we drove down to the river road as we did not want to bike an additional mile up a good sized hill at the end of a long (for us, at least) ride. Ingrid and Sophie, who were more experienced riders, wanted to start and end at the Jacht Huis Inn.

Our ride along the river road was glorious. It was a bit brisk when we started, but near perfect temperatures for the rest of the day. Twice, large gaggles of geese passed low overhead in V formation. We stopped for water break near a small bridge, where a creek emptied into the larger river, and saw an active beaver dam 50 yards up the creek.

The views of the river and the autumn colors were truly breathtaking although, I must admit, that most of the time my eyes were focused on the backsides of the three women riding in front of me. Ingrid and Sophie often rode side by side and chatted, then Angie, and then me. I was convinced that Angie was teasing me as she would periodically stand up to peddle and wiggle her ass back and forth as she peddled.

There was no really no reason to stand up to peddle as the river road had no real hills. One time when she was standing up and peddling, she looked over her shoulder and caught me staring at her wiggling tush. I gave her the OK sign with my thumb and forefinger and then pursed my lips for a kiss that I directed toward her ass. She laughed, did a couple of exaggerated fanny wiggles and then sped up a bit to join Ingrid and Sophie.

She told them that I was staring at their butts. When they looked over their shoulders at me, I let go of the handle bars, raised my hands above my head, and bowed toward them like a worshipper in a Mosque. After a brief chat among themselves, all three stood up to peddle and wiggled their asses at me. I let go of the handle bars again with the intention of bowing again but almost lost control of the bike and came close to wrecking.