My wife’s best girlfriend, Bunny Ukraine, lived in the house next to us and sunbathed on the same private beach as we did. I was used to seeing her there and smelling the smoke off her Winstons as I sat on our porch and watched her on her towel, soaking up sunshine and wearing a big, straw hat that covered her shoulder blades. Her husband was an uptight cop who wasn’t around too much.
My wife, Fran, came from lots of money, and I was on sabbatical from the University of Connecticut while trying to publish. I didn’t need to work if I didn’t want to. I usually stuck around the house whenever Bunny was on the beach. At other times I’d find something else to keep myself occupied, tramping through the woods that surround our neighborhood for a couple of miles out, or wasting time with my buddies at the local pool hall. When Bunny was gone, it was usually because she and my wife were up to something like lunch or the mall or hanging at a bigger beach in a town called Sound View. Their routine was predictable, but summer activities were mostly the beach and nightclubs.
One day, our Lincoln Navigator rolled into the driveway while I was picking crap out of the flower garden. I was only too happy to give up the project, especially since the girls had arrived, and stood there waiting while Fran and Bunny piled out. The two of them had their customary summer outfits on, beach shirts and cling-to-the-crotch, bikini bottoms. Fran went straight to the house, leaving Bunny to reach through the back seat window and collect the beach gear. She was skinny from lots of exercise and too brown from all the sun. Something clicked in my head when she straightened up and adjusted the stretch band on her bikini bottom. My eyes fell to the outline of her cunt while she stretched the elastic. She saw me looking; her eyes kept track of my eyes and something like a smile played on her face while she stuffed towels into her beach bag. She was older than me, very pretty, and she had me figured out.
I began thinking about her and her bouncy ass a lot. She had tiny breasts and playful, dark eyes. Her crotch drove me mad, of course.
Summer was fading and for my own part, I’d taken to pounding my drum set in between bouts of writing. The Navigator pulled in one afternoon but I didn’t hear it on account of the drums. I was making a big racket in the spare bedroom when the door swung open and Fran stuck her head in.
“Hold it down awhile, OK,” she said. “We want to get some sleep.”
I said, “Ok.” then tossed my sticks aside and flopped on the roll-out with a couple magazines. I hear the shower running and a while later everything got quiet. I needed to piss, so I got up and headed downstairs, noticing that Fran’s door was shut. When I got to the bottom step I saw Bunny sleeping tummy down on an air mattress in the middle of the living room. I’d seen this before, Bunny crashed out in one of Fran’s bathrobes after a day at the beach and a shower. They’d probably gotten woozy from drinking beers in the sun and were sleeping off the effects in order to be fresh for later on when they’d hit their favorite nightclub, The El Morocco. Maybe I’d tag along. I could smell the suntan lotion.
I did my business in the bathroom and was heading for the staircase when I noticed that Bunny had rolled to her back and that the robe had bunched itself around her waist. After the robe she was naked with nothing covering her twat. Was she asleep? I couldn’t tell; her eyes were closed. I figured on walking past her and continuing upstairs, but it didn’t work out that way. Halfway across the living room I stopped and, looking down, I got caught up in the drama between her legs. I sat quietly at her feet and gazed at her perfect construction down there, the flawless lips and groomed bush. Taking for granted that she was in a deep, boozy sleep, I kept leaning forward to be closer to it and finally, I stretched out on my belly and inched between her parted legs until my nose nudged her crotch and her pubic hair tickled my nostrils. I’d just lick it a little and then be about my business. Meanwhile, my head was swimming at her scent. I poked her clitoris with my tongue and it was just then that I felt her tense up and shove my head back.
“What in Christ!” she said fiercely, sitting suddenly up and slapping me across the face while pulling the robe around her. “Are you out of your mind?”
My face was hot from the slap and I could taste her.
“No,” I stammered. “I just . . .”
“You just what?” She said in controlled, hushed tones. “You just thought you’d stick your fucking face between my legs?”
“No, I didn’t mean too. I mean, I didn’t think I’d.” I said lamely.
“You didn’t think?” she said in disbelief. “Good grief!”
Her eyes glanced nervously toward the staircase and we both fell silent, listening for Fran.
“You’re crazy,” she whispered. “You know that. I can’t believe you tried that?”
“I’m sorry,” I managed.
“And you’re out of your mind,” she murmured, leaning back on her elbows, letting the robe slip open again.
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