My college roommate Christina was always going from one guy to the next. One semester she went through three boyfriends, each one getting dropped after a few weeks because they failed to hold her interest. No one could figure out what her deal was.
Then one day I got home from class and heard Christina on the phone with a friend. They were talking about her lackluster love life, and when I heard Christina ask the voice on the other end, “You know what the problem is?” I knew I had to stay and find out why she was always dumping these guys. Ducking into the bathroom, I hid behind the shower curtain and listened intently as her voice traveled from the bedroom.
“It’s Alicia,” she said, and I jumped.
My name is Rita and I’m a 33-year-old woman. I haven’t been out with a guy in a while, thanks to long hours in the office and no real social life to speak of. Even if I didn’t work so much, I’d have no way of meeting men. I do have a special way of relieving all the sexual frustration that builds up, though: I love phone sex.
I’d seen phone-sex ads before, in magazines, alternative newspapers and on late-night public-access cable TV a few times, but I’d never bothered to call those lines. It seemed like something for dirty old men. But I was feeling especially horny, and though I’d tried using my vibrator, it seemed impossible to come without some additional stimulation. For only $2.99 a minute, I figured I could afford to try a 900-number, so I dug out my most recent magazine and searched the ads for one that appealed to me.
The four of us were on our usual weekend trip to Florida. My husband Rick and I have been friends with Tricia and her husband Ryan for years, so sharing a room is common with us. In fact, we’re so used to each other that we usually wind up walking around in our underwear.
Ryan’s mission in life seems to be grabbing my ass or sneaking a feel of my boobs every time the four of us have our picture taken, but that’s the extent of it, just some good-natured goofing around. Rick and Tricia are so used to Ryan’s antics that they just ignore it when he starts his act.
Tricia and I are both blondes. She’s about five-foot-seven, with a great body and full boobs. I’m five-foot-ten, with similarly full breasts, but I recently had my hair cut short. We’re both slaves to the tanning bed, too, and have no tan lines.
Because of where our jobs and our lives have taken us, my two best friends and I are spread across the country, but before we went our separate ways, we splurged on a 10-day trip to Mexico. Because we’re all exhibitionists, we’d planned to spend some time at a nude beach.
We were walking along the warm, firm sand early the first morning, looking for a good spot to catch some rays. As we got undressed, I noticed three guys watching us from behind some trees. It seemed strange that they’d be so bashful on a nude beach, but it was all the more reason to really give them a show. “Psst!” I whispered to my friends. “Don’t look, but we’re being watched. Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget.”
Allison was one of my closest friends in high school, so I was overjoyed when she called saying she was planning a trip to the area where my husband and I live. She said she wanted to get away from Jeff, her husband. I was surprised by her comment, but I didn’t question her. I told her she was welcome to stay with my husband and I for as long as she needed.
A couple of weeks later, we were chatting across my kitchen table as Allison helped me prepare dinner. My husband, Rob, had had a long day at work, so he went to bed almost immediately after we ate, but Allison and I took a bottle of wine out on the patio and got down to some girl talk.
We were on our second bottle of wine when she asked how my sex life was. I told her it was just great, but didn’t tell her how great. Rob and I have an open marriage, with my legs usually being the “open” part, though Rob will sometimes hook up with one of his friends’ wives if sparks fly.