Vacation - Part I
2007-07-30 @ 7:56 p.m.

A few hours later Dale arrived and by noon two of his friends, Michael and Bryce were at the house. Michael and Bryce were at my New Year's Eve party. They're very nice guys, very laid back and good house guests.

Tuesday was gorgeous. Stacy, Kit and I decided to head down to the beach to get some rays. The guys stayed up at the house. We left them lounging on the deck, quaffing cocktails and beer. I brought my cell phone down to the beach so I could call my sister. I hadn't even spread my blanket on the sand when I get a call. It's Luke.

"Dale wants a blow job," Luke informs me.

"Uh....OK," I responded.

"We need a house slut up here."

"I'll be right there," I replied.

I then finished adjusting my blanket, opened my book and settled-in to enjoy some sun and surf. About ten minutes later, another call. Luke again:

"Dale really wants a blow job."

"How bad?" I asked.

"Pretty bad."

"Well," I said, "tell him to warn you if he's going to cum in your mouth."

Yes, occasionally I get a good zinger in. I'm a rather accommodating woman but I do not want to be summoned back to a house I just left because someone wants his friend to get some head. If I was approached in the proper way, well, that's a different story.

Later, after dinner, we took a few bottles of wine out onto the deck and sat underneath the stars. It was chilly. The boys had imbibed all day and, by now, most of the night. They were feeling uninhibited (not that they're all that inhibited while sober). We didn't have enough chairs so the girls utilized the available male laps. After a half hour or so, we'd switch laps. It was fun. Kind of 'swinging lite.'

I went to get another bottle of wine. When I returned I sat on Dale's lap. Dale was next to Steve and they were deep in conversation. Without missing a beat in the conversation, Dale's hand was inside my sweatshirt and caressing one of my tits. Steve watched and then reached over to join him.

After a few minutes, Steve suggested we go inside. Steve led me into the house and up to our bedroom. Dale was close on our heels. Dale quickly disrobed and fell onto the bed. Steve undressed me and walked me over to the bed.

"Time for that blow job?" asked Dale.

I laid down next to Dale and took him into my mouth.

"Get on all fours," said Steve. "I want to see your ass in the air."

I did as I was told. Steve sat next to me on the bed. He watched for a while and then began to stroke himself. At least that's what it sounded like. The room was very dark, the only light coming from the muted glow of a small, outdoor light.

Dale went into my mouth semi-hard. He didn't grow much initially either. The long day, the sun and more likely the booze had taken their toll on him. I felt as if I were doing twice the work for something that probably felt half as good to him. After what seemed to be fifteen minutes of giving him head, I came up for air.

"I think I need a relief mouth," I said.

Both of them laughed.

"Maybe you need a relief cock," said Steve, changing places with Dale. Steve was much harder than Dale had been. "See," he said. "It's not the mouth."

Dale had left and returned with some beer.

"I don't think that will help much," I said.

Dale said, "I think I just need to fuck you."

"Which hole?" asked Steve.

"I can't decide," answered Dale.

"Flip a coin," answered Steve.

Dale climbed up onto the bed and got behind me. "I want to take her in the ass," he announced. He started fiddling around with my asshole, rubbing and inserting just the tiniest portion of a finger into my ass.

With my mouth still on Steve, I started laughing, which caused Steve to laugh. Dale's behind me and though I can't see him, I know he's stroking himself to get his cock as hard he can. He also whispers something like, "There you go, that's better." I just found the entire thing amusing. Then, out of the blue, Steve empties a blast into my mouth which I wasn't expecting at that particular moment. His load wasn't much in volume and was rather thin and watery.

Dale did have difficulty entering me. I had not applied any lube but based on how he progressed I didn't think it was necessary.

From behind me I hear Dale with "Oh....oh....oh. Your ass feels great. It's so wet, oh, oh, oh."

By now I'm barely breathing because I'm laughing so hard. "That's my pussy," I tell him.

Time to wrap this up. Neither Steve or Dale attempted to reciprocate and I let them off the hook for that night. They were really in no condition for any type of physical exertion. It had been a long time since either one had a vacation and they let off some steam by drinking a bit too much. The amusement factor alone made up for my lack of orgasm and I wasn't angry at all. I took a rain check, knowing that they owed me one...or two.

There's a delicate formula when guys mix alcohol and sex. The perfect amount and they can go all night. Too much and you get to see their softer side.

Just how drunk do you have to be to mistake pussy for ass? Can that be a new field sobriety test? "Well, Judge, he could do the heel-to-toe walk just fine but he failed the 'P or A' test."