Swing Pointe

Grace couldn't believe her good fortune. It took her sixty-three years but she had everything she ever wanted. She squeezed Mark's hand. He stopped, bent down, and touched his lips to hers before he continued to the Water Lounge where they found the pool man vacuuming the cement bottom.

"Hey, Greg. Thanks for dropping by one more time before opening night."

"Sure thing, Mark. How else could I get this close to that gorgeous wife of yours?" He winked in Grace's direction and she batted her eyelashes right back.

Mark nodded in Greg's direction. That one nod gave her the consent she needed before play could begin with any person outside of their marriage. She slipped her t-shirt over her head and walked towards Greg. Her breasts weren't as high as they used to be but a million arm lifts in a lifetime seemed to maintain the full form and bounce that so attracted the male species. Her husband followed close behind her. Greg was naked by the time she reached him.

"Lay down on the chaise. I want you more comfortable." Grace smiled and straddled the already-hard pool man. She preferred to think of him as a cabana boy.

"That's my shy little minx." Mark lifted her hair in the back and kissed along the groove of her neck.

"Ohhh, yes, baby." Grace lifted up and enjoyed the sensation of one man on each side of her. Greg's hands massaged her nipples. She twisted her body down on top of his legs. Her palm brushed over his wide nipples several times. Teeth sank lightly into her shoulder from behind.

"Mmm." Her tongue licked the middle of Greg's chest and travelled down to his belly-button. When she lifted her head she saw that he had his own head back with his eyes closed. He propped himself up on his elbows. Grace's tongue flicked in and out of his button and then flattened her stiff-oral muscle down the groove that led to his penis. His body shuddered beneath her. She made her way back up to his navel and started the process all over again.