I had known Caroline and Wendy for more than two years because they were part-time workers for the firm where I spent all my time staring at a computer screen in a job I didn’t like much, but which paid the bills. Caroline was medium height and generously shaped, with quite big breasts and a bottom that could be described as ample. She wasn’t overweight, but comfortably upholstered like many mothers of her age, forty-ish, are. She had shoulder-length brown hair which stopped abruptly as if it used to be very long and had been suddenly changed. She had nice full curly lips and blue eyes.

The funny thing was, I felt as if I had met her before, although neither of us could remember meeting in the past. It was as if we were soul mates, but we were both married, and I didn’t lust after her as I would have if I hadn’t liked her so much.

Wendy was of the same physical type, with short black hair and a gold tooth, and with a brasher, more down-to-earth personality; as a young girl she might have been a tomboy. She had a hearty laugh and a ready sense of humour. The three of us got along extremely well as friends, with no real sexual hidden agenda, or so it seemed to me.

On a work night out I spent most of the time with them, sitting at a table on our own while the party animals did their thing in the rest of the pub.  Eventually, the subject of sex came up and they wanted to know how many women I had had.

“Oh, 20-odd,” I said, never having counted.

“And the rest,” Wendy said, poking me in the shoulder.

“That’s about right,” Caroline said. “He’s had a good time and I’m not surprised, cos he’s a nice guy. And contrary to what people say, nice guys do win sometimes.”

“Ooh, get you,” Wendy replied. “Go on, then, how about you?”

“I’m not telling you,” Caroline protested. “You tell us your number.”

“Like the girl said in Four Weddings and a Funeral,” Wendy said. “Less than Madonna, more than Princess Di.”

“Meaning?” Caroline insisted.

“Same as Phil,” Wendy said decisively. “I had a bit of fun before I got married. Nothing wrong with that, is there, Phil?”

“Nothing at all,” I said.

“Go on, now you,” Wendy said, nudging her friend. “How many?”

“Three,” Caroline admitted reluctantly. “Including my husband.” She was blushing.

“You should make it four,” Wendy said persuasively.

“With who?” Caroline responded.

“With a nice guy who obviously likes you,” Wendy said, looking from Caroline to me and back again. “You would, wouldn’t you?” she said to me with a wink.

Caroline was lost for words, overcome with embarrassment, and muttered something about going to see how the other half lived while walking off into the dancing throng.

“Oh dear,” Wendy said. “I think I’ve upset her.”

“She’ll be okay,” I said. Wendy moved closer to me, in Caroline’s place, and we laughed and joked for a few minutes. After another drink, she patted me on the knee.

“I think we should both add one to the score,” she said, glancing at my eyes. “We’re both people of the world. Just a bit of fun. What do you think?”

“Wendy,” I began, “I think that would be very nice, but…”

“Nice?” she retorted. “It would be a lot more than nice, mate.” She stood up before adding, “Well, I’ll go and see if madam’s okay.”

I got myself another drink and some people came over and sat with me. I watched as Caroline and Wendy danced and laughed and chatted conspiratorially.

Around 11 o’clock the party started to break up, as all the partnered people headed back to their happy homes. I was left alone at my table until suddenly Wendy appeared. She sat down close to me and spoke quietly.

“Listen,” she said, “Bob’s away so I’ve got the house to myself. Why don’t the three of us go back for a nightcap?”

Half an hour later I was sitting on the settee in Wendy’s lounge while she and Caroline chatted indistinctly but urgently in the kitchen. I had been furnished with a Drambuie from a drinks cabinet that I gathered only saw active service at Christmas.

Wendy came in, pulled the kitchen door to, but didn’t close it, and sat next to me.

“Listen,” she said. “You and Caroline are crazy about each other. She’s admitted it to me. And she does want to do something about it, just for tonight. But…”

“But what?”

“Well, this might seem strange to you, and it does to me but…”

“Yes?”

“She’ll only do it if I do it first.”

I was taken aback, as she knew I would be.

“She wants you and me to…”

“Yes,” Wendy said, relieved to have got the awkward fact out in the open. “We go upstairs while she gets used to the idea. Then when we’ve finished, she takes over. Seriously,” she added, sensing my doubt. “So kiss me.”

I took her in my arms, and we kissed as I slid a hand up her short skirt. She welcomed my tongue and my hand in her personal space. I had never really fantasised about Wendy, but she did seem to know what she was doing. As I slid a finger into her, she placed her hand on my crotch. I looked up at the kitchen door and saw a slice of Caroline’s skirt and top, before she stepped quickly away.

I followed Wendy upstairs and she did the same with the door, leaving it ajar. The spare room was right next door to her bedroom. In seconds Wendy had pulled her top and bra off and was on her knees, unzipping me and taking my cock in her mouth. Then she finished undressing me and herself and we were entwined on the bed.

“Be careful,” she whispered. “You’re not allowed to cum. You have to save that for her.” Already revved up at being so close to fucking a new woman, I tried to apply the emergency brakes to my libido.

“Turn over and kneel on all fours,” I urged her.

“Just dip it in and then something else,” my wise friend advised. I mounted her doggy-style and would have loved to pump her for a short while, which was all it would have taken before I came, but I pulled out immediately and licked her pussy from behind. If I got this close with Caroline I was going to lick her arse, but had to give that a miss with Wendy because it would have turned me on too much.

Footsteps had been padding up the stairs and now they stopped and Caroline accidentally pushed the door open a little. Then the spare room door opened and closed.

“Make me cum,” Wendy said. “Suck my clit.”

I did as I was told and she quickly came to a wailing climax as I tried desperately to keep my excitement under control. Wendy turned onto her back and pulled me on top of her. She kissed me hard and grabbed my balls with a sudden snap designed to take the wind out of my sails. It worked, and I lay on my back in that distinctively sick agony that knocked testicles produces.

Wendy pulled on her top and skirt with no underwear and made her exit. I heard a muffled conversation in the spare room as my balls recovered and I readied myself for round two. After a silent minute, the door opened and Caroline came in. She stood next to the bed as I lay on my side for modesty’s sake, and I watched, entranced, as this lovely creature removed her clothes and allowed me to see her naked. Her pubis was dainty and less hairy than Wendy’s. When she climbed onto the bed I was overcome with emotion. I knew I liked her a lot but at that moment the feeling was converted into full-blown adoration and we held each other close and kissed as if we never wanted to let go.

I pushed Caroline onto her back and set about kissing her all over. Her ears, her neck, with loving licks, her armpits with more urgent, dirty ministrations of my tongue. She received it all like the Queen of Sheba, basking in my love and desire as her own brewed steadily. She tensed and gasped as I sucked her nipples and wriggled as my tongue probed her navel.

When my head established itself between her legs, Caroline spread her thighs and raised them a little, and I could tell she had heard this was what you should do these days, rather than simply acquiesce, as she had in the past. Her crotch smelled fantastic: savoury and sweet. She was like the rhyme said: sugar and spice and all things nice. I slurped at her juices and devoured her vaginal flower.

“I love you, Caroline,” I said quietly and she pushed her crotch firmly into my face as she replied, “I love you too.”

“Lift your legs,” I said, and she obliged obediently, asking only, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to lick your arse,” I whispered as her neat little brown Cheerio appeared.

“Oh my God,” Caroline hissed as my tongue caressed and probed where no tongue had ever been before. “You do love me, don’t you?” she mused happily. “Get inside me.”

I left her beautiful southern outpost and headed up to her face, where she hesitated briefly on detecting her own aromas on my nose, cheeks and chin. Then we kissed tenderly as my cock slipped into her cunt and we were coupled like countless lovers since the dawn of time. In and out I slid in that divine rhythm that steadily raises the intensity of the experience.

Knowing I was perilously close to coming, I stimulated her clit with my finger and licked her neck until I felt her start to quiver. Then I banged her harder and more urgently and she pushed and ground her oily marshmallows against my hardness until we both gave a little cry as we came. My semen flooded her wonderful female tunnel in the act of attempted procreation and we both felt as if we had accomplished what we had been put on earth for.

I looked into Caroline’s eyes and we laughed briefly but helplessly before lying together holding hands.

Wendy’s footsteps padded down the stairs. I had been slightly concerned that she would want to come in once the fucking was over, but she knew that this was really about her two friends and that, while other games might be played in due course, this particular moment was ours alone.