“Payback.”
Her eyebrows rose with an amused question.
“Rich. Christy’s brother. You remember the black eye he gave me? Last Thanksgiving?”
“Oh, yeah!”
“Well, this was payback. His face was harder than my hand, but he had to have stitches.”
She rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“That’s what I said,” Christy agreed.
“Anyway,” I said to Wren, “we were talking about you. You want to start doing aerobics again,” I prompted.
“What? Oh, yeah.” She looked down at her stomach and breasts. “I’ve been doing laps in the morning, but I’m so out of shape. I started a diet, too. I gained almost ten pounds! I had to buy a new swimsuit!”
“You look fine,” I said.
“Well, my tits’re bigger. Trip likes that. But I don’t feel fine. I feel like Miss Piggy.”
Christy snorted a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Wren said.
“Nothing. Only, I was thinking of Trip as Kermit the Frog.”
“God, no,” Wren laughed. “My dad always told me to stay away from green weenies.”
“Good advice.”
“Y’all wanna go for a swim?” she offered.
“Sure.” I gestured back toward the house. “Do we need to wear suits?”
“No. My mom’s out with Lydia. They’re playing golf, if you can believe it.”
I pulled off my polo and then sat to untie my shoes. Wren skimmed off her bikini bottoms. She had faint tan lines from wearing them for several days.
“What’s wrong with golf?” Christy said. “My dad plays.” She unbuttoned her shorts and slid them down her legs. “Speaking of which,” she added to me, “you should probably learn.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes and dropped her shirt on top of her shorts. “I’m serious. A lot of decisions are made on the golf course.”
All of a sudden Wren sighed.
Christy and I stopped and looked at her.
“What?” I said for both of us.
“I’ve missed this.”
“Missed what?”
“Just talking.” She shrugged. “Any conversation that doesn’t involve ‘broadcast news operations’ or ‘targeted mass media advertising.’ God! I don’t miss school. Trip was trying to convince me to get an MBA, but he dropped that idea pretty quick.” She thought of something and laughed softly, almost to herself. “That was before I started my honors thesis. It seems like ten years ago. Has it really only been six months?”
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” I said facetiously.
“Fun, yeah,” she mused. “What’s that?”
“It’s a strange thing people do when they aren’t working all the time,” Christy said.
I felt a sense of déjà vu. “Hold on, didn’t I—?”
“Yes, you said it first.” She unfastened her bra and tossed it on the growing pile.
“It sounded like something I’d say. But… when?”
“Wren and I were getting ready. For my birthday party.” She took off her panties, flung them on the chair, and compared her pile of clothes to my own neatly folded stack.
Fine, be that way, she told me with a look. Mr. Organized.
I will, Miss Chaos.
You know you love me.
I do, I agreed, and she smiled.
Wren yanked us back to the spoken world.
“After I burned the duck!” She laughed. “God, what a disaster. But yeah, it was a fun night after all.”
“It was,” I agreed.
“That was the last time we were together,” Wren added. She looked at us and smiled suggestively. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m ready to get reacquainted.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Christy said. “But… you can’t catch me!”
Wren shrieked and ran after her.
They streaked around the pool and then came racing back. Christy darted behind me and used me as a shield. She feinted left, right, and then left again. Wren moved to block her, but Christy was too quick. She screamed and ran left. She rounded the corner of the pool, scampered over the diving board, and then plunged into the water.
Wren used the diving board to get a running start. She arced into a graceful dive, but Christy was too far ahead. She ran up the stairs and hid behind me. Wren didn’t bother to climb out of the pool. She stood in the shallow end, breathing hard and looking disgusted with herself.
“I told you,” she panted, “I’m out of shape.”
Christy came out from behind me. “It’s okay, we still love you.”
“I’m glad somebody does.”
“Oh, honey, don’t say that.”
Wren grinned reluctantly. “You still sound like an imposter. When you say that.”
“When I say what?” Christy walked down the stairs and waded toward Wren.
“‘Honey.’ You sound like an imposter.”
“I can’t help it,” Christy said. “I’ve been around Paul’s family all weekend.”
“That’s okay. I think it’s cute.” She glanced at me. “Are you going to join us?”
“I would, but…” I waved my splinted right hand.
“You don’t have to swim. Just sit on the side, by the stairs.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’ll just watch.”
“Nonsense,” Wren said. “You know Christy isn’t happy unless she has a dick to suck.”
“It’s true,” Christy herself agreed.
“And… I was kinda hoping you’d screw my brains out.”
I pursed my lips and did a horrible job trying to suppress a grin.
“Seriously?” Wren said. “Whatever. Go ahead and say it. You aren’t gonna be happy till you do.”
“Happy till he says what?” Christy asked.
“He knows.”
“Your wish is my command.” I walked into the water and sat on the sun-warmed side of the pool.
“See?” Wren said.
Christy frowned. “Hold on…”
“Long story,” I said. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Only, you said that before,” she accused.
“Said what?”
“That you’ll tell me later. But you didn’t.”
“When?”
“In the cabin. In Squaw Valley. I was sucking your finger. I said I needed something bigger.”
I drew a blank.
“Don’t look at me,” Wren said. “I don’t remember either. Her memory’s crazy.”
“It’s not crazy,” Christy muttered. “I just remember things.”
“Of course you do,” Wren said quickly. “And that’s what we love about you. You know what else we love?”
“What?”
“Your libido’s crazy too.”
“It’s not crazy. Why does everyone say that? It’s just high.”
“Thank God for that.” Wren kissed her, and Christy gradually relaxed. She didn’t resist when Wren guided her to the side of the pool near me. Christy hopped up and spread her legs. Wren began kissing her thighs and inching toward her pussy.
I watched for a couple of minutes and stroked my cock with my left hand. Then I waded down the steps. I held my right hand at shoulder height and felt like an idiot, but the girls were too preoccupied to notice. Wren reached between her legs and guided my erection to her pussy.
“Oh, God,” she groaned as I slid into her, “this is exactly what I needed.”
I steadied her hips with my left hand and began thrusting. Christy leaned back, closed her eyes, and ran her fingers through Wren’s damp hair. We continued like that for several minutes, until the pressure started to build in my balls. I held off as long as I could, but Wren’s pussy felt too good.
“Sorry,” I grunted at last, “I’m gonna come. Where—?”
“My tits.”
I mounted the steps, and Wren sank to her knees in front of me. I tried to jerk off with my left hand, but she batted it away and gripped my shaft with both of hers. She started stroking. Then she added a little twist at the end, which sent me over the edge.
I groaned and shot what felt like a gallon of come on her chest. Christy slid into the water and sat on the step beside us. She waited until I stopped shooting before she sucked the final gush from the tip of my shaft. Then she turned and kissed Wren.