Introduction:
It was boys against girls in canasta. The prize was, losers had to cook. Carl and I lived in officers’ housing and were good friends with Lydia and Frank. We went to baseball games with them, played cards, went to church and generally had a good, honorable time with them. Both couples had been married for a little over a year and hadn’t taken advantage of the Army’s free babies. (Military hospitals only charged $2.50 per night for the mother.)
On that Saturday night we played canasta. Of course, we girls won. (Are we dating ourselves? Who even knows what canasta is?) The guys knew almost nothing about cooking, so confronted with their loss, they agreed to cook breakfast the next morning. At least they could scramble eggs and fry up some bacon.
We were all dressed for church. The fashion then was short skirts for the ladies and a coat and tie for the guys. Breakfast went ok. The apartment didn’t burn down. We made the guys do the dishes, too, and they looked so cute in our aprons.
I’ll admit we girls were merciless teasing them and harassing the boys from behind while they did the dishes. We kissed them on the neck, stealing money from their pockets, reaching further in for you know what, and otherwise being pests. Frank finally turned around and grabbed Lydia in a big bear hug and huge kiss.
Carl was not to be outdone and next thing I knew I was off my feet with Carl’s hand on my fanny, holding me in the air, pressing me against him, and having a deep, deep kiss. This was making me wet, and I could feel his arousal through all those clothes. I could picture him heading off to church with a big hardon, poor boy. I was getting embarrassed.
But Carl was not looking at me. Following his eyes, I glanced over at Frank and Lydia. Frank’s hand had disappeared under her blouse! Fine thing for a Sunday morning! Lydia was uncomfortable and I could hear her hoarse whisper, “Frank, not here! Frank!”
He replied, “You started it!” But she was melting and not really trying to stop him. Soon they were locked in a deep kiss again as he played in her underthings.
Next thing I felt was Carl kissing my neck. He set me on the edge of the dining room table. When he reached under my skirt, my panties were soaked already. Then both boys started to take off our blouses. “You started it; you started it,” seemed to be the only excuse they could think of. Lydia and I panicked simultaneously and broke free to run squealing into the living room. But by then it was a game, and we girls lost. Most of our clothes were soon ripped off us.
I was so worked up I didn’t care anymore. Lydia was parked on the sofa with both feet touching the floor, her skirt pushed up over her waist, panties nowhere near, and her legs wide open. She was beautiful, a natural blonde as her bush confirmed. Frank was eating her pussy and eventually worked his way up to her nipples. She was writhing in ecstasy but had the sense to slip out of her skirt. I was astounded to see Frank unzip and enter her. It was an event I had never witnessed before. Where there was almost no opening, his cock was swallowed whole into a gaping orifice. With every stroke, her pussy seemed to pull in and out.
Carl and I both watched in fascination before we landed on the floor with Carl’s fingers deep in my body and one of my breasts in his mouth. He was so good that way; he had found my g-spot though nobody even knew the term then. He always made me cum before he satisfied himself. We would both come together next. This morning, when he put his cock on my clit, I was already having spasms. That action sent me over the top screaming. I needed him to cum in me and cum hard. He plunged in and after five minutes of glorious, dangerous, naughty sex, I let out a huge moan. I felt his sex explode within me.
When I opened my eyes, beautiful Frank and beautiful Lydia were standing over us watching, their full-frontal nudity seeming like the perfect thing for a bright, blue Sunday morning. Wet juices were running down the inside of her leg. Church did not seem right that morning. We made the appropriate excuses the next week.
The Breakfast Club, as we came to call it, met from time to time while we were stationed together, always on Sunday morning if neither wife’s period was happening. Scrambled eggs turned into omelets. Jelly filled pastries were the norm along with mimosas. And we girls were filled with another kind of jelly in our pleasure omelet.
Early on, we decided that it would be fun to use the same positions each time we “came” together. I remember me and Lydia staring at each other while on our knees next to each other on their bed. The boys licked our clits at the same time ’til we came. It was hard to keep looking at her as my breathing got heavier and more spasmodic. I’m sure they had a great view of two side-by-side cunts. I suspected it wasn’t Carl’s fingers that played inside me, perhaps a foreshadowing of a later story in this series. Then, the cocks went in. They pounded us in unison, and we pushed back in unison. The cocks erupted a few seconds apart, Carl first I recall. The boys used their fingers to gather a few drops of their cum from inside our vaginas and offer it for us to taste. That was enough for us to turn over and take their limp pussy and-cum-flavored cocks in our mouths ’til they rose to give us something to swallow.
One Sunday, Lydia and Frank arrived with a sex manual that had a full survey of Kama Sutra positions plus others. The first one we tried was scary. We had to hop up on the guys with our legs pressed around their hips. It got so wobbly, both couples backed against a wall. Somehow, the penises got in and we rode up and down ’til the men came. It was impossible to hold it all in when we were set back on our feet. I can’t say that was anywhere near the best sex ever, but we kept using the book as the weeks went on.
One we liked better had us wives lying on our backs with our butts and sex held up in the air by our kneeling hubbies. We held our knees to our chests. All the action was up to the guys. The access was easy and the fucking, screamingly pleasurable. I don’t often get an orgasm just from intercourse, but this position did it. We revisited that one several times.
Funny thing, we got to church less and less on these special Sundays, though it was because we had moral concerns.
