So I started to unwrap Melissa. I turned her around to remove her top, kissing her shoulders lightly and holding her breasts from behind for a moment. Finally, I undid her jeans and crouched in front of her as I lowered them, giving her tummy a little kiss on the way. Melissa gave me a similar treatment as she slowly undressed me.
When we were both naked, we glanced over at Susan. She had a wistful expression and her mouth was open a little.
“You… uh, is it all right if I get naked again too?” she said.
Melissa said, “If you’re okay with it. Sure. Go ahead.”
“Can… uh, can he do it?”
I looked at Melissa. She smiled and nodded.
I walked behind Susan and slowly stripped her; embracing her, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck, slowly removing one thing at a time. When I crouched to lower her pants I kissed her flat tummy that, for we knew, held the beginnings of our child. It was an odd thought, both frightening and exciting, and made me feel warmer and protective towards Susan.
When I stood up, Susan hugged me close, resting her head on me. Her warm body and breasts caused me to stir, but I fought to keep control.
We sat on the living room couch, each girl on either side of me. There was still half a bottle of wine from the previous night so I poured us each a glass to finish it off. We talked about last night and everything else. Our conversations were more comfortable now. I learned a lot more about Susan, and she learned more about me.
When the conversation dwindled Susan said, “Oh! Melissa I saw what’s-his-face when I was walking over here… you know, Mr. Porsche. He didn’t see me though.”
“Mr. Porsche?” I asked.
“Oh yeah!” said Melissa excitedly, “Tell him about him!”
Susan sat back and said, “I went out with him a couple years ago. Rich kid. Great car, great condo, great hair, terrible taste in shoes. But I should have known from the start… just another asshole looking for a hot blonde to use as decoration.”
“C’mon,” said Melissa, “Tell him!”
“He took me to Paris,” said Susan.
“Really?” I said. “I guess he WAS rich.”
“Well, it wasn’t a private jet or anything, but still. It was for a long weekend. Of course, I’d never been to Paris, so I was like a little girl taking it all in. We stayed at a fancy old hotel, walked around; saw the Louvre, Napoleon’s tomb, all that stuff. Then at night, we walked to the Eiffel tower. It was all lit up. Really spectacular.”
“And…” prompted Melissa.
“Oh, well in Paris people are making out everywhere. At the cafes, on the street, everywhere. There’s a big park on the way to the Tower and while we were walking through it there were couples screwing on the park benches.”
“No way.”
“Yes! One couple, the girl was sitting in the guy’s lap, facing him. She was wearing a skirt, so they weren’t naked or anything, but from the way she was moving it was pretty obvious what they were doing. We walked right by them on the path.”
“The City of Love, huh?” I said.
“Another couple was more obvious. A guy had some girl bent over a park bench. What’s-his-face told me that in France it’s normal for everyone to have a lover. You’re married, and it’s just accepted you’ll also have someone on the side. Part of the culture. I don’t know if that’s really true, though.” “I need to move to Paris,” I said. I expected a whack in the arm from Melissa, but she had a far away look and was squirming a little. Was this getting her turned on?