“It’s safe to say I don’t mind them, but I love yours and Susans. Meg’s are nice too. I guess you could say I like breasts. I won’t deny it.”
“They are nice,” she said, feeling her own to confirm this sentiment.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“You and Susan.”
“Yes?”
“This morning with Meg, when she said something about Gail and Emily, and that Emily went both ways, you said ‘like us’.”
Marci sat up, looked at me, then out to the sea. She took another beat before speaking.
“Ryan?”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m falling in love with Susan.
On the surface, this wasn’t news, as I already knew she loved Susan. But the way she said it now meant the degree of her love for Susan had shifted. I didn’t respond, suspecting she had more to say.
“When she ate me out I knew it,” she said. “I had to have Susan too. And you. I needed to love you both in the same way.”
“I think that’s what Susan was telling you. She loves you the way I love you.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do.”
Marci sat up even more, like she’d just received splendid news, and gave me an excited kiss.
“Oh, Ryan. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“It is wonderful.”
Chloe arrived with our rum smoothies. We took long sips and I succumbed to brain-freeze. It took a moment for it to pass, and I took another long sip.
“I can’t tell you what I’m imagining,” said Marci.
“Does this mean you’re going to tell me? I’m not sure how to respond.”
“I keep imagining Susan and me together. We’re both naked, and we’re fondling each other and I mean, really intimately now. Not friendly hugging or goofing off. And then I spread her legs and go down and she tastes so sweet, and she’s so appreciative, and I make her come. I can’t really imagine what that will feel like. I know how it felt when she made me come that way.”
“And you’re sure you want to do it?”
“Oh, God yes. I want to do it all the time. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“That’s quite a leap.”
“I know, right? I’m surprised myself. I never thought I could eat a woman, and all I can think of now is eating Susan. I think she knew I might feel that way once she did it to me. When I saw her with Meg, I got really jealous. That’s when I really knew I wanted to know Susan that way.”
“It’s been quite a trip,” I said.
“It has.” She chuckled over something.
“What?” I asked. “What’s so funny?”
“Me! I was just thinking about something you said, you know, about the view during oral sex?”
“Yeah. I remember.”
“Well, I was thinking about going down on Susan, and my nose is right there sitting on top of her puss, and my tongue is inside her licking up and down, and I look up and see her pussy is right there, and I raise my gaze and see Susan looking at me and smiling, watching me eat her out, and my tongue is inside her, and I feel her clit on its tip… God, I’m going to come if I don’t shut up.”
“Wow.”
“Jesus, I want to bang again. Finger me.”
“Marci, do you ever reach a point when you’re just entirely satisfied?”
“That’s when I fall asleep.” She laughed. “No, it’s just all this talk is getting to me. Now, just feel me over my suit.”
I looked around. There was no evidence to indicate the surrounding cabanas found us particularly interesting. I slipped my hand under Marci’s suit, cupping her. She swooned. The way her vulva filled my fingers was exhilarating.
“That’s nice. I love your touch. How did you get so good at that, by the way? You know exactly how to touch me.”
“Remember? We taught each other a lot about how we liked to be touched.”
“Was that you? I keep forgetting.” She leaned over and kissed me and returned my favor, slipping her hand into my suit and fondling my balls.
“Isn’t this great?” she said.
“What?”
“To have someone you can just reach over to and fondle when you want. I love touching your balls.”
“They feel the same way.”
We sipped our drinks to the empty mark and I caught Chloe’s attention. She came right over. Perhaps due to the breeze, her nipples now looked taut. Because her breasts were small, they really stood out.
“Two more of these, please,” I said.
“Chloe,” said Marci. “Are you only into women or do you go both ways?”
“Both. Why?” This line of questioning seemed to spark her interest.
“Who do you like more? Men or women?” asked Marci.
“Women.” Chloe, who appeared to have a moment to spare, sat on the edge of the cabana. “Why do you ask? Are you thinking of being with a woman?”
“Yes I am. His wife.”
“Oh. She’s pretty. Does she want you to be with her?”
“We think so.”
“There is no love like the love between two women.” Chloe rose. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” I said. “Just two more drinks, please.”
“On the house.” She left.
“See, aren’t lesbian’s nice?” said Marci.
“She just said she’s bi, but that she prefers women.”
“Okay, bi then. I think I’m going to like this being bi.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch teams?”
“God no. I love men, particularly you. I’ll never let you go again.”
“And what is it that you love about men?”
Marci pretended to be counting her fingers, suggesting there was more than one thing she loved about men.
“I already mentioned your balls… I love when you’re making love to me, and you’re holding yourself up on your arms and looking me in the eyes, and your thrusting really hard, and my tits are bouncing around, and I feel your balls smacking my ass—see, balls really count here. When you come, you get a look on your face that just sends me out of this world. Then I can feel you streaming into me and, well. No woman could do that.
“When you lick me, and I feel your
