A Weekend at Charlotte's

I got back into bed feeling restless. I was out of my depth here. It made me realize just how much I took society's conventions for granted -- and how disoriented I felt when the usual rules were unexpectedly suspended.

Kira shifted beside me and murmured something in her sleep. Then she rolled onto her back and threw off the covers, exposing her body down to her waist. A beam of sunlight slanted across her breasts, and onto her face. She opened her eyes. "Damn it. I can't sleep. Are you awake too?"

"I am."

"Give me a massage, would you?" She flopped back over onto her stomach. "I need to relax."

"Happy to," I said.

I climbed over her until I was straddling her hips with my knees, giving me access to all of her lovely back. I dug in with my fingertips and my palms, working my way down from her shoulders to the small of her back. I didn't have any massage oil, which limited the sorts of motions I could do, but Kira didn't complain.

I finished up, and she smiled at me. "Thanks. Nighty night."

"Nighty night."

I closed my eyes. But I was too worked up by now to sleep. I felt her moving next to me, lying first on one side, then on the other, as fidgety as I was. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes again and nudged me.

"You still aren't asleep, are you?"

"No."

"Damn it. Go down on me, would you? That always works."

"So many requests," I said.

"You're such a jerk, Michael. Would you rather I asked Jorge? Or Charlotte?"

I didn't argue -- she was right, of course. I pulled the covers off completely. Her body glowed. What was it about this girl? She had a husband. She was -- let's face it -- way out of my league. But here she was in bed with me, naked and begging me to satisfy her. I took a deep breath. The truth was that I'd been waiting for this chance, and I wasn't going to screw it up.

I reached down and let my hands roam across her thighs and lightly brushed my fingertips over her outer lips. Then I leaned over and kissed the breasts I'd been admiring all weekend, rolling the hard nipples around with my tongue. Meanwhile, my fingers dipped deeper inside her, exploring her inner folds. She responded by closing her eyes and spreading her legs wider to give me better access. The silken texture of her skin, the luscious curves; I never wanted to stop touching her. But I wanted to taste her too, and I couldn't wait any longer.

I shifted my body down, following the lure of her scent until I reached its source. My tongue followed a leisurely path along the length of her slit, licking up her juices. She arched her back and exhaled hard. I reached under her butt and pulled her pussy against my tongue, pushing her lips apart, lapping and nibbling.

"Yes," she breathed. "Just like that."

I found her clit and licked around it until she cried out. The perfume of her excitement was intoxicating. We weren't on a clock now. There was no reason to hurry. She began to move underneath me, rotating her hips, opening herself. Her clit seemed to grow as I sucked it between my lips.

And then I felt her muscles contract and her body shake. She held herself against my mouth until her cum flowed freely. I lapped up her moisture and kept licking until she sighed and her body relaxed, gradually sinking back onto the bed. Her breasts and stomach rose gently with her breath and a flush covered her neck and the top of her chest. She smiled, closed her eyes and rolled over onto her side.

"Hold me," she said.

And I did.

* * *

I drifted back to sleep, despite being painfully excited. When I woke up a couple of hours later, Kira was propped up on one elbow, looking at me.

"You're cute when you're asleep," she said. "You have a kind of earnest expression, like you're trying to figure something out, but it's a little too difficult for you."

"That's how I feel most of the time," I agreed. "Especially the last couple of days."

The covers were only up to her waist, leaving those lovely breasts exposed. "You look pretty hot yourself."

She rolled her eyes and then did something unexpected. She threw the covers off completely and, with a giggle, hopped on top of me. She gave me a lingering kiss, finding my tongue with hers after a moment, then jumped up again and headed towards the bathroom.

She looked at me over her shoulder and said: "That's for helping me out earlier."

* * *

I could sense a thread of disappointment at breakfast. This was our last day together, and we couldn't escape the realization that we'd all be back to our normal, rule-bound lives in just a few hours.

Once the dishes had been cleaned up, Charlotte -- perfectly coifed and dressed in a stylish shift dress that left her golden arms bare -- addressed the group: "Gentlemen, I believe you have prepared a production for us? What shall we ladies do?"

Everyone looked in my direction. "Before we start, we all need to change into suitable costumes.

"Suitable for what?"

Some giggling ensued.

"Some of you are Athenian nobility, transplanted into the twentieth century, and the rest are fairies and elves, ladies of the court of Titania, Queen of the Night."

"Who's playing Titania?" Amanda asked.

"Charlotte." That pretty much went without saying. She curtsied regally.

I distributed cheat sheets to everyone with their lines and cues.

Costuming took much longer than I had anticipated. The girls were very particular about their shimmering cloaks and their diaphanous frocks. But, in the end, I had to admire how stunning they looked. All were naked beneath their sheer garments, and their bodies moved alluringly within the translucent folds and drapes.

Amanda whispered in my ear: "Next time let's do Romeo and Juliet, so that I can show off my fencing skills."

"Let's hope there is a next time."

She gave me a peck on the cheek and went back to putting silk flowers in her hair. She looked ravishing.

I played Oberon, King of the Fairies, and I entered stage right -- keeping in mind that there wasn't an actual stage -- while Titania and her retinue (Kira and Louisa) entered opposite. The lights were low, and mysterious music played, as befitted an enchanted forest.

"Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania," I began, speaking about an octave lower than my normal voice.

Charlotte regarded me as scornfully as any fairy queen might. "What, jealous Oberon. Fairies, skip hence. I have forsworn his bed and his company."

"Tarry rash wanton," I replied. "Am I not your lord?"

She looked suitably furious. "I know, Oberon, thou hast stolen away from fairy land, playing on pipes and versing love to amorous Hippolyta."

Charlotte was, unsurprisingly, an excellent actress. We proceeded with a highly abridged version of Shakespeare's play. I enjoined Puck (Curtis) to charm my wayward wife while she slept.

"I'll watch Titania when she is asleep," Puck confirmed. "And drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon, be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, she shall pursue it with the soul of love."

And so he anointed Charlotte who lay supine on the couch, her frock carelessly exposing a long expanse of radiant thigh.

Meanwhile, a troop of performers (a very small troop -- just Big Roger and Jorge) entered. "Here's a marvelous convenient place for our rehearsal," Big Roger said. He was playing the part of Bottom, the weaver, who, having been turned into a half-donkey, half-man, was wearing the top half of a horse costume. Indeed, it was the availability of the horse's head that had given me the idea to do A Midsummer Night's Dream in the first place.

Titania awoke and noticed Bottom. "What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?"

"The throstle with his note so true," Big Roger sang, a bit off-key.

"I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again," the enraptured Titania said. "Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note; so is mine eye enthralled to thy shape. Especially that part ..."

And with that, Charlotte -- improvising -- pulled down Roger's trousers, allowing his impressive appendage to swing freely. She dropped to her knees, took hold of it, and ran her tongue along its length, from root to tip. We all watched, rapt, as she opened wide to engulf the glans in their entirety and then more and more of the shaft.

But, I thought, the show must go on.

I spoke to Puck: "Seek through this grove: A sweet Athenian lady is in love with a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes; but do it when the next thing he espies may be the lady."

And so Lysander, played by Jorge after a quick costume change, found himself in love with Helena, played by Naomi.

"O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! O, how ripe in show, thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! O, let me kiss this princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!"

And Naomi obliged.

That left Little Roger and Amanda, as Demetrius and Hermia, to pair up following another charm from Puck. "So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle gently entwist," he said.

"O, how I love thee!" Amanda confessed. "How I dote on thee!"

Only Kira remained unattached. Charlotte beckoned her over, and the two began to share Roger's oversized phallus. After a minute, Charlotte stood and came to my side, leaving Kira to continue on her own.

"There's one more scene," Charlotte said, "is there not?"

I nodded and resumed my Oberon persona though nobody else was paying attention by this point. "Then, my queen, we the globe can compass soon, swifter than the wandering moon."

"Come, my lord," she said, our earlier tiff forgotten. She lay back on the couch, her blond hair spread in a halo behind her head, making her look every bit as magical as her role called for.

I sat on the edge of the couch beside her and untied the sash that kept her frock closed. I drew the two parts aside, exposing her smooth torso and her breasts with their pink nipples. A little farther apart and her pussy peeked out from beneath its puff of golden hair.

"You look good in that tunic," she said. "But I think it's time you took it off."

"Yes, my queen," I said in my portentous Oberon voice.

She giggled, and closed her eyes, whispering: "This is our best weekend yet."

There was something about the classical perfection of Charlotte's body that made me want to appreciate her slowly -- even worshipfully -- despite the intense arousal I was feeling. I kissed her breasts and began moving my lips farther down inch by inch. When I was still a dozen kisses away from her bellybutton, she whispered to me: "Shakespeare was foreplay enough. Give me your cock."

I looked at her, her face aglow, her chest rising, her legs spread to expose her pussy's dripping pink interior. I didn't want to wait either.

I was on top of her before I could even finish that thought, the tip of my cock touching her very wet opening. She moaned as I pushed harder and sank deeper and deeper into her silken recesses. I could tell that I wasn't going to last long -- the session earlier with Kira and the room full of half-clothed women had left me too keyed up. Charlotte wrapped her legs around my hips, and we found our rhythm quickly, our bodies slapping against each other, her breasts squashed against my chest. I was vaguely aware of groans and sighs from all around me. But all my attention was focused on the place where Charlotte's body and mine came together, then parted and then met again.

I could feel my climax rising, and I tried to warn her. "I'm about to ..."

She dug her fingernails into my shoulders. "It's all right. Don't stop."

A few more thrusts and I could feel the spasms begin. On and on they went until Charlotte's body began to quiver underneath me, and her fingernails cut into my flesh.

She held onto me while our breathing gradually calmed. Finally, we lay still, with my deflating cock still inside her.

Charlotte gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I've been waiting all weekend for that," she said. "My husband and I are both very glad that you came."

I didn't know quite what to make of that, or at least the Curtis part of it, so I didn't reply. Instead, I sat up and looked around. The man himself was standing behind the couch. He gave me his enigmatic nod.

Elsewhere, the revels were still very much in progress. Big Roger, having shed his horse's head, was seated on the couch opposite, his legs splayed. Kira and Louisa were taking turns sucking on his cock and kissing each other. The other two couples had switched: Jorge was entwined with Amanda, and Little Roger was sprawled on his back while Naomi rode him like a wildcat. Everyone was naked, and this group of suburban sophisticates was going at it like high school students on prom night.

Charlotte vanished, to clean up most likely, which gave me a moment to reflect. I'd had more sex in the last three days than in the previous couple of years combined. All this weekend's encounters had been casual -- I'd barely gotten to know any of my partners -- but there was intimacy too, at least while we were in each other's arms. Still ... they were all married. And, except for Kira, I doubted that I would see any of them again.

As I considered that melancholy possibility, Big Roger emitted a deep growl, and cum spurted into the air from his huge cock. Kira and Louisa, both startled, jumped out of the way. Roger continued to shoot a prodigious load and then, exhausted, seemed to topple slowly to one side. Meanwhile, Naomi's body arched as Little Roger, perhaps inspired by his namesake's efforts, lifted his hips and pumped deep into her pussy, accompanied by moans from both of them.

Amanda, who was spooning with Jorge, rolled away and gave him the quick kiss on the cheek that seemed to be this group's disengagement signal. Then she looked up and spotted Naomi, just a foot or two away. Naomi climbed off of Little Roger, who seemed to have fallen asleep, and put her arms around Amanda. The two of them sank down into the couch adjacent to mine, Amanda on top, the aggressor for once.

Jorge, abandoned by Amanda but evidently game for more, looked around. He spotted his wife and Kira, who were kissing in front of the prostrate Big Roger. He walked over and whispered in Louisa's ear. She turned and smiled at him, then lay back on the rug, surrendering her voluptuous body to Kira's attentions. Kira got onto her hands and knees and began to suck on Louisa's brown nipples.

Kira's butt was sticking up in the air, and Jorge dipped his fingers into her exposed pussy, first his index finger, then a second finger. Kira pushed back, driving his fingers deeper into her. I could sense what was going to happen next, and felt both excited and a little jealous.

Kira worked her way down Louisa's body until she reached her pussy. From my position, I couldn't see Kira's tongue, but her head began to bob up and down and Louisa's eyes closed. As his wife's breath came in hard gasps and her body began to thrash, Jorge moved behind Kira, his cock sticking straight out and lined up with her pussy.

I remembered Kira's plea of two nights earlier -- to stop her from doing anything crazy, to not let her lose control. But she seemed so free just now, so joyful and enthusiastic. Would she really regret what was about to happen? Complicating matters, my over-stimulated cock was beginning to swell again. There was something about Kira's raw sexual energy that sent my own self-control into a tailspin. Even so ... what kind of friend would I be if I willfully ignored her request for help?

I got up, my very hard cock front and center, and walked closer to the trio, near enough to smell their excitement and feel the heat rising from their bodies. I leaned over and whispered into Kira's ear: "Are you sure you're okay with this? You asked me to ..."

She turned towards me, her eyes unfocused and just shook her head. "Thanks. It's all good."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. It was Charlotte, dressed modestly, for her, in a sheer black nightgown.

"Leave her be, Michael. This is what she needs."

I hesitated, then stood up and backed away.

As if he'd been waiting for my departure from the scene, Jorge thrust hard into Kira from behind. She made a high-pitched cry and raised her head from Louisa's loins. Louisa opened her eyes, disappointed by the withdrawal of Kira's lapping tongue.

This was Charlotte's cue. She took Louisa's hand, helped her up, and led her away. Curtis followed at a discreet distance.

Small, urgent sounds came from the couch where Amanda and Naomi were engaged. But I couldn't look away from Kira and Jorge. Kira's breasts swung heavily with the impact of each of his thrusts, and a deep flush spread down her body. "Yes," she said. "Yes, yes, yes."

But I could tell that Jorge was in trouble. He tried to slow down, to buy himself some time, but Kira kept slamming her hips back at him at a furious pace. Jorge balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth, but it was no use. He pulled out, grabbed his cock, and began to shoot out white cum onto the carpet. Kira let out a deeply aggrieved sigh.

"I'm sorry," Jorge mumbled to her. "You're just too hot." Then, turning as limp as the two Rogers, he collapsed against the sofa.

Kira, still on her hands and knees on the floor, turned around. Amanda and Naomi were thoroughly involved with each other. Three of the party's men were hors de combat, sprawled on various couches and chairs. Curtis was nowhere to be seen. And then there was me.

Kira fixed her eyes on my iron-hard cock. "Michael," she said, "get over here."

I waited a beat, and then I shook my head. "No. You come here."

She seemed startled for a moment, and then she stood up, a little unsteady but achingly beautiful, her nipples erect, moisture glistening on her swollen pussy lips. She stumbled over to me, almost in a trance.

I stared into her wide eyes. "Kneel on the couch," I said, "with your arms on the back cushions, the way you were the other night."

She positioned herself as I had directed, her knees a little apart so that her dripping pussy was fully exposed. I ran two fingers up along its length until I found her clit. I'd missed my opportunity that second night, after the two Rogers had finished pleasuring her. Not this time.

I stood behind her and grabbed her hips with both my hands.

"Do it," she said.

I pushed forward. I hadn't expected her to be so tight. Her pussy gripped my cock head as if she never wanted to let it go. I pulled out, then pushed back in a little deeper. And then again, farther each time, until I was all the way inside. I stayed there as I felt her warmth tighten around me, and I ran my hands all over her delicious body. Then I began to slide in and out. After a minute, she started moving with me, both of us picking up speed until our hips were meeting with wet percussive slaps.

"Oh, yeah," she said between clenched teeth. "Don't you dare stop."

"Still giving orders?" I gave her round butt a stinging slap.

"Damn right. Do that again."

And I did, and then we moved faster until both of us were grunting with each impact. I'd already come once, so I had a little control. And I had every intention of going at it for as long as I could.

"Wait," she said, pulling away and turning to face me. Both of us were breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing at all." Her face was at the level of my waist. She reached below my scrotum and held my cock where she could admire it. Then she leaned closer until it was halfway down her throat. She pulled her lips back along the shaft until she had licked it clean. "I love to taste myself," she said, flashing a wicked grin.

Then she stretched, arching her back, her breasts rising deliciously on her chest. "Let's do it this way," she said, laying back on the cushions.

She spread her thighs and reached for me as I lay down on top of her. She pulled my head down to her and kissed me just as my cock found her entrance. I felt all of her at once, her mouth, her loins, the warm skin of her stomach and her breasts, her thighs around my hips. All that had separated us before -- her rules, my uncertainty -- vanished, and there was just the rhythm of our coupling, rising and falling, until I lost all track of time and everything else except the extraordinary woman beneath me. And then, when she opened her eyes and looked at me with her soft, dreamy smile, it was too much. I stiffened and exploded in an overwhelming climax.