Rex Gordon - Menage a quatre - 36 Hours of Pleasure

"You know she was wrong, don’t you?" Judy said.

"Yes?" The word came out as a question.

"You don't sound so sure of that, but she was wrong. Look, you're going to have to learn to do it for your own sake. I'm not getting smart with you, now watch me."

Judy leaned back on the sink counter, and pulled her gown upward, letting it gather high on her waist. She slipped both hands down the front of her, over the material at first, then under. She pushed them between her legs. She did not touch the curls over her pubis, nor did she touch her most private parts, but her fingers grew closer with each stroke.

"Do just like I do," Judy said. "You don't have to touch your pussy. Just feel the way your fingertips brush against your inner thighs. Feel the excitement as your knuckles brush back and forth against each other. Feel the anticipation of where those fingers might actually go, but hold back. It's so much better if you hold back."

Leslie hesitated, but she did as Judy suggested and she began to feel what Judy said she would feel. Even without touching curls or folds or … little tingles of pleasure rippled like mild electricity over the front of her body, but she suddenly felt guilty and she pulled her hands away. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can. Go ahead, try." Judy gently took both of Leslie's wrists, and she pushed her hands back where they had been.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it myself. You don't have to help," Leslie said, as she continued to brush her fingers inside her thighs, and she watched as Judy did the same with herself.

Judy's fingers grew ever closer to the opening, ever closer to the curls over her, over her – oh, God – over her, her thing. At the last moment, her right hand turned over, and she brushed her pubic curls with the knuckles of her fingers.

"Oh!" Leslie said, realizing that in copying Judy's movements, she had let her own knuckles brush over her own pubic hairs, and just the tickle excited her.

"Feels good, right?"

"Yes."

"Mmmmm, to me too. That's it. You're doing it right. You're getting it."

Judy turned her hand over again. She slid the tips of her fingers through the opening of her pussy. Leslie tried to emulate the movement but she couldn't.

"Scaredy cat."

"No, I can't I-"

"Do it. Just like me."

Almost unconsciously, Leslie brushed her fingers through the wetness. "Ohhhhh," she went, but she withdrew her fingers quickly.

"It was good. Keep doing it."

"Yes," Leslie said, and she did do it again, touching herself a bit more deeply now. It felt so good, so damn good. Yes, it did. If there were only a way she could stop feeling guilty about it, everything would be fine.

"Yes, go deeper. Do whatever you like. Take the pleasure you deserve. Rick went out for croissants, come in when you're ready." Judy let the material of her nightgown cover herself.

"You're leaving?"

"Of course I'm leaving. Masturbation is something you learn better on your own. You can do it," Judy said. She kissed her friend on the cheek, and went through the other door, into her own bedroom.

She's right. Judy's right , Leslie thought. She could do this better on her own. Oh, damn it felt good, but she wanted to makelove. Where was that bastard Brandon when she needed him?

She moved her fingers gently, barely touching the wet, and she heard the little clicking sounds of her nether lips smacking against the wetness. She put one finger inside her and stroked inward and outward, but it did not feel like Brandon inside her. She wanted it to feel like Brandon. She wanted it to feel like a man inside her. She tried a second finger, then a third, and it was much better, but she could not get her fingers all the way inside. "Oh!" Her thumb brushed against her clitoris and there was an even greater pleasure.

"Oh, Brandon, you bastard. Why are you making me do this when you should be here with me," she muttered to herself.

Even as she began to sob, her fingers moved more rapidly, the way Brandon picked up speed when he made love to her. Yes, she would push them all the way inside.

"Yes." It felt good, but if her mother saw her or heard about it? What would she think? "Oh, Yesssss."

Leslie was touching her clitoris, massaging it, sliding it between her middle and index fingers. Sensations rippled through her, and they were stronger and more sensual than any she had experienced with Brandon. They made love on only a few occasions each month, and each time she was a failure. He always … he always 'finished,' he called it. But she never finished, not once in her … not once in her … oh, God … not once in her life did she ever …

"Oh, Yes, yes, yes," she said, and she sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Oh, yes," she finished, like in those lovely dreams, she finished, and she started to cry.

"I'm sorry, mother," she said, but she continued the slow stroking of her nether lips, and her pleasure overwhelmed her initial guilt.

"I did it," she said aloud. "I did it. I did it."

She flung open the bedroom door, but Judy was not there – just Rick, fully clothed with a paper bag in his hand.

He glanced down the front of her body, and she slammed the bathroom door and hurried into her own room.

What must he think of me?

"That Leslie has a hell of a body," Rick said, when Judy came back with fresh towels from the concierge.

"I don't think she knew I was here, and she came in and her robe was wide open and-"

"Oh, damn. I told her you went out for croissants."

"Well, I'm back. I think you should go in and talk to her, because she turned the deepest shade of red I've ever seen on a human in my life. It was a giant step beyond scarlet."

Judy, still wrapped in her thick, terrycloth robe after going downstairs, went into the adjoining room, where Leslie had the covers pulled all the way over her head.

"What's the matter? Don't you think Rick's never seen a naked woman before?"

"I'm so ashamed."

"You shouldn't be. You've got a nice body. Come on, take your shower. We have to get to the Notre Dame before it's packed with tourists."

Leslie flopped down the sheet and looked at Judy. "You mean you don't hate me? You'll let me go with you?"

"Come you can have the bathroom first – and lock both doors! I don't want Rick popping in on you."

"You're mad at me."

"No. I'm just disappointed that I didn't see the look on your face."

"Judy!"

Judy smiled, did a little wave, and went into her own bedroom.

Rick couldn't get the image of the nearly naked Leslie out of his mind, and he could not stop thinking about how casual Judy had been about it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't really mean to look," he said.

"You wouldn't be much of a man if you didn't look."

He frowned. She was almost laughing about it, but that was how Judy was. Everything about sex was fun. Sometimes, she was laughing even as she came. It was one of the great things about her.

"Brandon's not here. I'll fix you up with her."

"You sure are a smart ass."

"You think so, huh?" She lifted her terrycloth robe and her gown, and she shook her butt at him. "Want to have a little fun while she takes her shower?"

"Absolutely," Rick said.

***

"You're not going to wear that shirt are you?" Judy said.

"You know it's my favorite."

"Lions and tigers and bears are bad enough, but dragons on a sports shirt is going to show you off as a tourist like nothing else can."

"How about the fact that none of us speak French."

" Touche - which is just about the extent of my French."

There was a weak tapping on the door between the two rooms.

"Come in," Judy said.