Last summer, Dean and Diane worked out almost every day at the gym. And almost every day afterward they’d stop by my health food store to buy juice. It was nice of them to throw business my way, but it was also nice that they always seemed to be flirting with me.

Both of them. I didn’t mind. In fact, they often entered my dreams—dirty threeway fantasies that left me wet and breathless. But I never knew how to let them know how I truly felt about them. Fortunately, I never had to. They took care of things for me.

That July had brought us a whole line of violent storms, and most people had no power more often than they actually had it. One stifling day, after a bad storm, my store had air-conditioning but my house didn’t, so I went in early. I wasn’t even officially open yet when the bell over the door tinkled.

“I’m not open ye—” I started to call out, but then saw who it was.

“You okay after last night?” Diane asked, leaning against the counter. She was pristine. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail and her small tight shorts hugged her toned ass. One glance at her polished look said they were stopping in to see me before they worked out rather than after.

“Fine. But I didn’t sleep much,” I confessed.

“Us either,” Dean said, planting his big strong hands on the counter. He leaned in toward me, and I swore he licked his lips. “We ended up talking most of the night until the bulk of the noise passed.”

I smiled, feeling somewhat flustered. “Nice to have someone to talk to during all that.” I lived alone.

“It is,” Diane said. “And we kept coming back to one topic over and over.” She fluffed her pony­tail, and that one small motion accented her breasts, her small waist, the delicate flare of her hips.

“What?” I swallowed hard. It was suddenly very hot in my store, despite the blasting AC.

“You,” she said with a grin.
“Me?”
“You,” Dean said.

Diane swiftly went to the door and locked it before turning back to me. “You don’t mind, do you?”
I could only shake my head. Did I mind? I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
“We both think you’re as sexy as hell,” Dean said, leaning a little further across the counter.

I couldn’t process it, how the pretty power couple could have lain in bed discussing me, but I wasn’t going to argue. My pussy was thumping in merry time with my heart, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I said nothing, just watched them.
Diane chuckled and said, “I think you scared her, Dean. Are you scared?”

I shook my head and just smiled shyly.

She moved toward me and quickly stepped behind my small barrier—the counter. “Are you turned on?” she whispered, lips pressed to my ear.

A shiver coursed through me, and I nodded. My lips refused to work, until she pressed hers against them. Then I opened my mouth for her penetrating tongue and felt a jolt of excitement as Dean reached out to stroke my breast, making me moan softly into his wife’s mouth. He teased my nipple to rigid attention through my thin blue tank top and then said, “Maybe we could move this party to the back room?”

I went with them as they moved.

They’d been in the back once, and the fact that I had a nice comfy sofa back there was known. My ass hit the cushion as Diane pushed me down, and I arched my hips up for her as she tugged off my shorts. “Sorry we’re being so forward,” she said softly. “But we talked about doing this all night.”

“And then we fucked, and then we talked about it again until it was time to get up and shower for the gym,” Dean said, watching his wife push my thighs wide.

She smelled like soap and sunshine. Her mouth was the sweet, warm texture of worn velvet. She trailed her tongue directly over my clit, no teasing or preamble, and my body went rigid. She kissed my slit, open-mouthed, as she pushed a finger into my drenched pussy.

“Come for me real quick, love, so we can move on,” Diane said. “Next time I promise we’ll go slow.”
Next time? I nearly swooned at the thought.

The notion that there’d be a next time had me on edge, and I curled my fingers against the cream-colored cushions of my sofa. She pushed another finger into my willing cunt and sucked my clitoris hard. Then she zeroed in on that tight knot of flesh, and I gave in to her, coming with a rush of noise and juices.
“Such a good listener,” Dean said.

Diane stood, peeled off her clothes and arranged herself at the end of the sofa. She didn’t have to ask or lead. I eagerly crawled to her and kissed her inner thighs, her hipbones, the expanse of tight muscles, and the softness of her smooth skin. I felt Dean move in behind me, and I pushed my ass in the air, offering myself to him. There was no zipper to hear, but I heard him push down his workout pants, felt the firm grip of his warm palm as he touched my ass and his thumb as he ran it along the length of my sex.

“So wet,” he said, admiringly.

Diane hummed as my mouth traveled along her outer lips, her inner lips and finally attacked her clit. She smelled like perfection, tasted like a fantasy.

“May I?” Dean asked and I thought, at first, he meant me. That is, until his pretty wife tangled her fingers in my long, brown hair and pulled me a bit more securely to her.
“Yes,” Diane answered him on a gasp.

I heard the snap of rubber, and the sharp smell of a condom filled my senses. Then I felt the silken glide of his cock along my wet slit. “May I?” he said again, and smoothed his hand over my ass. This time he was talking to me.

I nodded and pushed back to meet him, opening myself a bit more. I didn’t trust my voice, but I did trust my body. He slipped into me an inch and then went still. Another inch, and then a finger pushed slowly into my ass. The single digit stretched me and rubbed against his hard cock through my delicate flesh. I let out a sigh against his wife’s wickedly pink cunt, and she laughed.

“He’s good,” Diane said to me and pushed her body up to meet my mouth. I lost myself in eating Diane out—devouring the sight and smell and taste of her as Dean shoved deep inside my body, teasing me to the brink of orgasm before pulling back again.

“He’ll let you come when I do,” Diane whispered, like it was a secret.

I shoved my fingers inside her, curled them in her depths and felt the blissful pull of her pussy spasming around me. She was close, and I wanted her to come—not just so I could, but because I would know that I’d done that. I’d given her pleasure.
I fucked her roughly with my hand as I lapped at her softly with my mouth. When I swirled my tongue around her clit over and over again, she finally gave me what I wanted in a sweet rush of juices.

Dean grabbed my hips hard and grunted. The sight alone must have had him on edge: me going down so willingly—so brilliantly slutty—on his spectacular wife. But her sounds did him in, because he ground against me, rocking so deep in my pussy that I started to tip forward. He shoved his finger further into my back hole, and I came, a sharp cry against Diane’s tan thigh.

She stroked my hair and kissed me before sighing contentedly. “I know. He does have that effect on a woman.”
When they put themselves back together, they both gave me a kiss on the cheek. Very casual, very chic. “You don’t mind if we come back and visit you again soon?” she asked me, twirling a lock of my hair around her finger and tugging gently.
“No.” It was barely a word as it puffed out of me.

“And not for juice?” Dean said, putting an arm around Diane.

“I hope you do,” I said, honestly. I’d often imagined what we’d just done, but never thought it would happen. I was still fairly stunned—and pleased.

“Good.” He winked at me. “Right now, you’re our favorite late-night topic.”
Diane waved, and they were gone.

I sure hoped that I’d stay their favorite topic for quite a while.

Ms. Jill W.,
Charlotte, North Carolina

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