The next morning, Amanda found herself with two dilemmas.  The first was how to conquer her sexlessness.  The second was what to do with herself all day.  She thought her best bet might be to just stay home and loosen herself up all day, but Kerri flatly rejected the idea.  "I've got some ideas, but they'll have to wait until later.  Besides, you need to relax.  You've been stressing yourself out about it too much, Mandy, and sex can't be had in a stressed environment.  It's all about relaxing and chilling out.  So however you change things, bearing down and concentrating won't help."  These instructions left Amanda somewhat skeptical—what was she supposed to do, just drift into sex?—and a little bit nervous as well, since her powers of concentration were all she really had in terms of problem-solving.  But of the two of them, Kerri would obviously know much better than Amanda herself would.  Her best bet, it seemed, would be to just trust Kerri and see what happened.

Besides, Kerri had something much better to do with the day.  She had the brochure ready by the time breakfast was over: "Horseback riding!"  And then, at Amanda's skepticism: "Come on, it'll be fun.  I'm sure you've done it before, and enjoyed it."

"Yeah, but, I was like fourteen," Amanda said.

"Exactly," said Kerri.  "When are you going to get to do it again?  The next time you're at a stable, it'll probably be your daughter who's fourteen."

"Oh, god, don't make me think about that," Amanda groaned.  She and Patrick were not ready yet; it was as simple as that.  Besides, how the heck will we ever conceive?—unless things start going substantially different from how they've been.  But she wasn't supposed to be worrying herself about that right now.

"Besides, everyone likes horses," Kerri said, grinning.  "Patrick, do you like horses?"

"Umm, sure, I...  They're okay, I guess," said Patrick, clearly out of his depth.

"Winston, honey?" said Kerri with a secret grin.

"Sure, horses," said Winston, grinning back.

"So it's settled!" Kerri chirped.

Amanda said aside to her husband: "If this is some sort of plot, it's far too deep for little ol' me."

"It might not be anything of the sort," he said.  "Maybe Kerri just likes horses.  Besides, you're the one with the My Little Pony collection."

"Those are collectable," she replied haughtily.  "They are not toys, they are an investment in our daughter's future."

So that was how they found themselves on a riding trail somewhere beneath a cloudless tropical sky.  Amanda had brought sunscreen, and the Kollaths a picnic lunch, and between Winston's Eagle-Scout badge and Patrick's Marines training, they felt confident in their ability to handle any sort of crisis.  And Amanda had to admit, it was nice to be out with horses.  Hers was a gentle old nag named Spirit, and after Amanda had introduced herself and fed her an apple, they had been fast friends.  Winston seemed to have his animal well in hand, and she was completely surprised at how well Patrick managed his horse, a proud gelding named Starblaze; it was Kerri who was having trouble.  Her horse Blinkers seemed perfectly happy to ignore her; she was constantly having to rein him in and distract him from munching on vegetation at the side of the trail.  As Kerri was easily distractable herself, Amanda thought it a match made in heaven.

Of course, handling the horses was an adventure in itself.  None of them, for instance, were entirely sure how to use the hobbles, which left them the alternatives of either learning or eating lunch in the saddle.  They learned, and though it took some vigilance and one horse (Blinkers, of course) nearly got away, they finally managed to get settled down for their picnic lunch.  They had found a cozy little cove, a beach of pristine white sand ringed with undergrowth and a curtain of palm trees.  Someone could come by via boat, or use the same equestrian trail, so their solitude was not guaranteed; but, for the moment, it was just the four of them (well, eight, counting the horses), and it felt like they might be the only people left in the world.

Maybe that had been part of the plan.

"Do you wanna go on," Kerri said, "or do you mind if we just stick around here a little.  It's a really nice place.  Get your nap on, work on your suntan...  Just chill."  Patrick and Amanda had no objections, so they spread out and relaxed.

Amanda, after making sure she had a liberal coat of sunscreen on, curled up in Patrick's arms and went to sleep, feeling sinfully comfortable—surely it must be against some law to be able to nap in your husband's arms, under this warm sun, here against the breath of the constant surf.  But not too long after she found herself jostled awake, as Patrick excused himself, mumbling something about hunting down coconuts.

Amanda got an elbow under her to look around.  Patrick was already shuffling off towards the trees that ringed the cove, sending up a backwash of sand with every step.  All four horses were still there, waiting patiently.  And Kerri and Winston...  A shuffle of flesh, a flash of color; an arm here, a leg there, but it wasn't until she heard Kerri's moan that she flashed to an understanding of what she was seeing.

Then she scrambled to her feet and went after Patrick.

"What are they doing," she hissed.

"Well, if I had to guess," Patrick said, "they're embarking on the next step in our mutual and extended campaign of making you feel comfortable with sex."

"By doing it in front of me?!"

Patrick gave a weary shrug.  "I'm sure it all makes sense in Kerri's head.  It doesn't in mine, but then, nobody ever consults me on this sort of stuff."

Amanda looked back at her friends.  Did they care that she and Patrick could see them?  Probably not, or they would never have started.  From this vantage point—looking down at them from an angle instead of flat on the ground—it was easier to see what was going on.  The bits and pieces of color she had seen were the beach blanket and their cast-off clothing.  After getting naked, it appeared that Kerri had simply rolled on her side, her rear facing Amanda and Patrick's towel, and slung a leg over Winston's hip so that...

"That looks kind of fun," Amanda murmured.

"I could've told you that," Patrick grumbled.

She shot him a look.  "I thought you were going to try not to be bitter about it."

"Easier said than done," he said.  "Especially when your friends start flaunting it in your face like this."

She stepped close to him and drew him to her.  "I'm sorry."

"It's all right."  His arms fell around her as if by rote.  "I mean, it's not your fault."

"Do you want me to...  Do what I did last night?"

He looked at her.  "You'd do that?"

"Of course.  Patrick, I'm not making these apologies just to be polite or something.  Of course I want to be your lover.  Believe it or not, I was looking forward to it too.  And it frustrates me that I can't."

He was silent for a moment, thinking.  "Well...  I don't need you to do anything right now.  But I'll keep it under advisement."

She kissed him.  "I wouldn't want anything less."

Back on the beach, Kerri and Winston had changed position again.  Winston was now lying on his back, while Kerri straddled his hips.  She moved in time with him, his hips rising to meet hers as they moved down.  Her hands ran up and down over her chest, his over her back.

"Have you ever done that before?" she asked.

He looked over.  "Umm...  Can't say I have."

"Would you like to?" she said.

"Well...  Maybe not on the beach.  Sand would get everywhere."

"It would?"

"Hon, sand's everywhere already," he said.  "Now, imagine doing an activity that would cause it to get to every everywhere."

"Ooh," she said.  "Okay, consider your point made."

After a moment, he said, "Doesn't it bother you that they're...  Doing that?  So brazenly?"

"I...  I guess it should," she said.  "But I know that...  I know they're doing it because they want me to feel more comfortable with sex, and I do appreciate that.  And besides, it...  I mean, I've known for a long time that Kerri is a very... sexual woman, and that she gets up to...  Everything.  The idea of her doing something unusual...  It's lost its power to surprise me.  You know?"

"Hasn't lost its power to surprise me."

"I can ask her to stop," she said.

He actually seemed to consider it for a moment, which surprised her.  But he said, "No, that...  No.  Someone should be enjoying their sex life on this honeymoon."

And that just made her feel guilty again.  She turned away, her eyes downcast.

"Hey."  His arms encircled her; she felt his breath against the back of her head, his chest against her shoulders.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean it that way.  Don't take it that way."

"Why not?" she retorted.  "It's the truth.  This honeymoon isn't going the way you wanted, from a sexual standpoint, and I know that.  And it's my fault, and I know that too."

"Hon, it's nobody's fault," he said.  "These are just the challenges that we're called to face together.  And we'll face them.  I didn't get married to you just to flake out if one thing went wrong.  Remember what we promised?  'For better or worse; for richer or poorer; in sickness and in health.'  This is just one of those sicknesses."

She snorted.  "Some sickness."  But his arms around her were a comfort to her, and his words as well—as he must have intended.  He knows me too well.

Down on the beach, Kerri and Winston had reached some sort of consensus.  They had rolled over so that Kerri was on the bottom, receiving him; now, as she watched, Winston disengaged and moved up to straddle her chest.  She took his penis into her mouth and began to move up and down on it rapidly, clearly intent on bringing him to his orgasm.

"Isn't that weird?" she said.  "That was just in her...  Down-there."

Patrick shrugged.  "Well, some people really like the taste of cum.  Maybe she's one of them."

"She's not going to get pregnant that way," Amanda said.

Winston let out a gasp.  His whole body seemed to flex forward, his face turning upward as though seeking the face of God; for a moment, he and Kerri were frozen: he in the stiffness of his ecstasy, she as she received him.  Then Winston gave a final groan and sagged back on his heels.  Patrick watched with a level of detachment approaching amusement.  "Do I look like that when I climax?"

"I don't know," she said.  "Next time, I'll watch."

He kissed her ear.  "You really are serious about this.  About the fact that...  you want to make it work."

She looked up over her shoulder at him, annoyed.  "Do you think I would lie about that?  You're not the only person who intends to see this marriage through to the bitter end."

He kissed her.  "I'm glad."

By the time the kiss had ended, she had turned in his arms and was facing him, her arms around his neck.  They had been this way so many times before, and she had always felt safe here.  But now there was more to it.  She wished she was ready to make love to him.  Sex was one of the ways you showed your husband you loved him, she knew that much for certain, and she had so much love to show him...

"Hey, you guys!"  It was Kerri's voice.  "What are you doing?  And, perhaps more importantly, what aren't you doing?"

They broke the kiss to look back down the beach.  Winston and Kerri were coming up to them, hand in hand—still undressed, of course, but perhaps that was to be expected.  Winston's penis flopped from side to side as he walked.  Kerri, Amanda noted, was a natural blonde.

"Come on, you guys!" Kerri said, beaming.  "Don't you feel the spirit move you?"

"If you're concerned about privacy, we can move off a ways," Winston offered.

"Oh, no, it's not that," Patrick said.  "We're just not as comfortable with, err, public displays of... boffery."

Kerri and Winston looked at each other.  It could not be clearer that they had not expected this response.

"But...  Amanda..." said Kerri, helpless.  "Don't you...  Want to?  To, you know...  Do it?"

"Of course I do," Amanda said, smiling.  "I want to do it—even if only because Patrick wants to; but I want to do it too, from myself.  But it's just...  It's going to need to take its own course."

Winston looked at Patrick.  "You're a more patient man than I."

"Oh, it's been tested," Patrick said, smiling.  "But I'm not worried.  She's not lying, she does want to do it, and that's good enough to start with.  And in the meantime, we're developing...  Workarounds."

"Oh?" said Kerri.

Amanda looked at Patrick, and saw from his expression that he didn't mind it if she told them.  So she told them: "Well, last night I performed oral sex on him."

Kerri stared, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Wow, I've rendered Kerri speechless," said Amanda, grinning.  "That takes some doing."

"You—  I can't believe you—  You really—  You did?!" Kerri spluttered.  "—Like, all the way?!"

"Yes, all the way," Amanda said, a little irked.  "Until he came."

"W—  How—  I don't—"  She turned to her husband.  "Win, when I climaxed, did it boot me into an alternate universe or something?"

"Oh, come on, Ker, is it really that surprising?" said Winston, smiling at Amanda.  "Think of what you know about her.  It's Amanda.  If there's one thing she takes seriously, it's her responsibilities.  And to her way of thinking, being a good lover to her husband is a responsibility.  Of course she's going to do whatever she can to make it go right."

"Okay, that's all true," said Kerri, "but you can't blame me for being surprised.  When has she ever shown any indication of having, or wanting to have, sexual prowess?  Blowjobs are not exactly vanilla sex here."

"Yes they are," Winston said.  "They're pretty much standard operating procedure for couples in this day and age."

"No, they aren't," Patrick said, "not if you buy into the theories of sex Amanda does."

"Which is?" Winston said.

"Lie back and think of England," Patrick said.

"That's not true, she doesn't think that way at all," Winston said.

"Think what way?" said Amanda.

"Amanda," Kerri asked her.  "If the only benefit to sex was that it pleased your husband, but you didn't particularly enjoy it yourself, would you still do it?"

"Of course," said Amanda, wondering why it needed asking.  Didn't Kerri know her by now?

"I rest my case," said Patrick.

"Amanda," Winston said, "do you want to have sex?  Of your own self?  Not just because Patrick does?"

"Well, yes," said Amanda.  "Besides, aren't I supposed to want it?  I don't want this to be just something I do.  I want to be normal about this."

"Did watching us make you horny?" said Kerri.

"What?"

"Did it make you want to have sex?" Kerri said.

"Did it make you physically aroused," Patrick corrected.  "I'm pretty sure that, if there was any wanting going on, it was more of an intellectual thing."

"...Yeah," said Amanda.  "I mean, it made me want to have sex, but it didn't make me ready to have sex."  She grimaced.  "It seems like nothing can make that happen, if last night is any indication."

"Why, what happened last night?" Winston asked.

Amanda gave a helpless shrug.  "He tried everything, I tried everything, but I couldn't get...  Aroused."

"Well, it didn't help that you were focusing on it so hard," said Patrick.  "Sex isn't something you make happen, baby.  It's something you let happen.  You just...  I dunno, drift into it."

She couldn't say that she found that very reassuring.

"Don't worry, hon, I've already got some ideas as to how to make that easier," said Kerri.  "So.  Now that we've had lunch and I've had my fresh-squeezed dessert, shall we continue on our ride?"

"Seems to me you had quite a ride already," Patrick remarked.

"Oh, thank god, someone was watching!" Kerri exclaimed.  "I'd hate to think we put on that show and got sand up in my pussy all for nothing!"  She led the way back to the horses, with Patrick shaking his head in amusement as he followed.

It took most of the afternoon to go round the horse trail and get back to the hotel.  They made good time, but were hindered by a couple bathroom stops, at least one of which was just another excuse for Kerri and Winston to go get it on.  That one was fun, since another set of equestrians came up behind them and then, thinking it a good suggestion, also debarked their horses to go "use the bathroom."  Thankfully, the Kollaths were quick on the uptake when they emerged from the brush.  They rode off snickering, while Patrick and Amanda traded relieved glances.  Still, it was some time before Kerri was able to unveil her new plan.

As plans went, it was an oldie-but-goodie: vodka.

Patrick had to admit to feeling a certain amount of hesitation over the idea.  Amanda had very little drinking experience, having preferred to avoid the stuff in college; how was she going to react?  He certainly couldn't say.  But Kerri had stumbled upon some sort of perimeter of wisdom: all she had to say was, "It might make things easier with Patrick tonight," and Amanda was just tossing them down like there was no tomorrow.  By the time their actual meal arrived, she was well and truly sauced.  Winston leaned close to him and whispered, "Makes you wish this problem would last forever, huh," and Patrick laughed and made amused noises, but the truth was that he couldn't wait for Amanda to sort herself out.  Completely aside from the benefit to himself, it made him sad to see her treating herself with such total disregard.

Still, there were benefits.

Amanda had also been leery of the idea, at first.  "What difference is that going to make?  If alcohol just makes me willing to do something I wouldn't do otherwise, then I'd have to be drunk every time he wanted to do it."  But Kerri corrected her: "No, no, that's not how booze works.  It doesn't make you do anything new; it just makes you more willing to do old things.  Honey, you can have sex with him.  This will just help you smooth over the bumps."  And, back in the suite, Patrick had to admit that it was working.  Her nerves soothed by liquid courage, Amanda was all over him—and much more willingly than normal.  Even when they were just dating, he'd always felt that she was holding back.  Now he knew how right he'd been.  Because she wasn't holding back now.  She was into it, kissing him with abandon, rubbing her body against him, completely unashamed.

"What say we, umm, move this into the bedroom," he whispered to her between kisses.

He'd thought she was out of surprises.  He was wrong.  "No, why don't we stay?"

"What?" said Patrick.

"What?" said Winston.

"What?" said Kerri.

"I just...  I wanna..."  She was still peppering his face with kisses.  "I want Kerri to be there.  If I need to.  Ask any questions."

"Whoohoo, real exhibitionist in the making here!" Kerri whooped.

"Well..." said Patrick.  "If you really want."

Amanda gave him a smile that somehow set both his nerves smoldering and his heart melting.  "Baby, what I want is you."

On the couch, he got her naked and began to work at her breasts, trying to pretend Kerri and Winston weren't there.  This was harder than it sounded, because the two of them were standing behind the couch, whispering advice.  "Make sure you eat her out," Kerri told him, "make that connection."  It was good advice, he had to admit: their whole theory was that Amanda had been unable to classify sex play as something desirable; so now that she was responding desirably, he should make sure the umbrella was extend to cover everything important.  But still: Winston and Kerri were there!  Five feet away!  Looking down at him as he engaged in sex play with his wife!  He couldn't help but be weirded out.  So instead he concentrated on the woman before him: Amanda.  His woman.  His wife.

He had never been a fan of the supermodel look, and it was his joy that Amanda hadn't fallen into that trap; she was well-fleshed, healthy, with breasts that begged to be suckled.  Her skin was pale, almost translucent in places, and on her breasts he could see a delicate tracery of veins.  She always claimed she was fat, and nothing he said could ever convince her otherwise.  Nothing he did, either, since so much of the vocabulary of physical love had been off-limits until now.

Today it was different.

Today he worshipped at the altar of her beauty.  Today, when he showed her that she was beautiful, she believed it.

Amanda, for her part, was in heaven.  She was aware that there were things she ought to be concerned about, but they seemed so much less important now.  What, after all, was to be concerned about?  She was here, with her friends, and with her husband; and she was sharing her body with her husband, the way man and wife were meant to.  These were the pertinent facts in her mind; nothing else seemed important.  Life had gotten so simple!  It was gorgeous, to not have to worry about all those other things.  And gorgeous to be here, in the arms of this wonderful man, seeing his face just under her own; watching the smiles on his face as he reacted to her reactions, watching him shift from concentration to satisfaction.  Feeling the joyous tingles as he suckled at her breast, feeling the deep pull inside her that seemed to reach all the way down, to that place between her legs that was even now growing damp and hollow, aching with the need to be filled.

Kerri and Winston, seeing that their friends had things well in hand, retired to an armchair to watch in greater comfort.

Patrick began kissing his way down Amanda's body, wandering without plan or purpose.  He speckled kisses across the broad globes of her breasts, down in the cleavage between them, back and forth across her soft belly.  As he wandered lower, he began to be aware of heat, and of an acrid scent; finally arriving at her pussy, he was surprised (if pleased) to find her already beginning her wetness.  He felt a sudden burst of hope: maybe this bizarre plan would work after all.  Gently, with infinite care, he placed a first tentative kiss on her pussy.

It was evident to all of them watching: she gave a groan, her whole body coming up off the couch, and her hands went to the back of his head to urge him on.  Kerri, gasping in wonder, wrapped her arms around Winston and gave him a kiss.  Patrick allowed himself a smile of wonder before returning to the task at hand.

"Take her all the way," Kerri hissed to him, "make her climax," and Patrick agreed.  he didn't know when he'd get a chance like this again, so he intended to make the best of what he had now.  He had never brought a woman to orgasm before, but he had studied the theory; he was a conscientious man, and (like his wife) took his duties to his spouse seriously.  And he had Kerri on hand to give help.  If this wasn't enough, nothing would be.

He began by kissing his way around her pussy, familiarizing himself with the territory.  Then he began to kiss his way through the individual petals of her pussy: the thicker outer padding, and then the inner lips, thin and delicate.  As he kissed, he tasted her nectar, metallic and a little sour—first distantly, and then in greater amounts.  He tasted more of it as he repeated his circuit, this time with his tongue laving the skin he had kissed.  She was moving under him, her hips shuffling, her body wiggling, and he knew she was trying to get him into contact with her clit.  What she didn't know was that he was deliberately avoiding it, so that when he finally did make contact the results would be memorable.

And, indeed, when his lips finally settled around that tender little bud, he could've sworn that she almost came right there.  He glanced up to see if Kerri and Winston were watching this, saw that they were, noticed in passing that, if you judged by the way they were sitting, they might be doing it right now—Kerri could've easily tucked Winston's hard-on into her pussy without moving much.  And he couldn't think why Winston wouldn't be hard at this point; Patrick himself felt practically ready to blow in his pants.  Still, he had something more important to do.  He wrapped his lips around his wife's clit again; and then, obeying Kerri's whispered instructions, began to flick at it with his tongue as he sucked.

He wasn't sure he'd know it if she came; he was, after all, new at this.  But as it turned out, it was easy to know, because she was so noisy.  Her moans reached a crescendo; and then her entire body came up off the bed like a rising tide, and he felt a new rush of wetness from her pussy.  Her hands on his head clutched at his hair, tangled there; he felt tension flowing out of her body in torrents.  And then she collapsed back on the couch, spent, as Kerri and Winston took time out of whatever they were doing to gently applaud.

Amanda was deeply appreciative once he reached her face; she wrapped her arms around him and practically yanked him down on her.  "I love you," she was saying, "I love you, I knew you could do it, you are the best husband ever."

"I love you too," was all he could find to say.  Was it really that big of a deal?  He knew she'd do the same for him—had, in fact, done the same.  He didn't see this as being that different.

"Now, I want you to do one more thing for me," she said.

"Okay."

"Get inside me," she said.  And she suited words to actions by reaching around between them and finding his cock, still proud and erect.  A little bit of fumbling later, and he was at her entrance.  "Do it, darling.  Do it now."

And who was he to refuse his wife?

Kerri and Winston were indeed fucking; she had slipped him inside her without much particular fanfare; she didn't need him to be moving, just to be inside her.  This was not the first time they had done this; sometimes, in fact, they placed him inside her during other activities—watching TV, reading books—just to have the contact; just to know that they were connected in that perfect, private place.  Today it was nothing like that, of course; watching Amanda's unself-conscious enjoyment had turned both of them on immensely, and they had been fucking slowly as Patrick brought his wife to orgasm.  Tonight it was a game, and a very pleasant one—to bring Winston to the edge of climax and then hold back, drawing out their fucking as long as possible.  But now Patrick and Amanda were up to something, and it distracted them from their own pursuits.

Kerri could see Amanda reaching between her and Patrick, and knew what must be going on.  A moment later, Patrick's hips began to settle down, and she watched in amazement as their expressions changed, so simultaneously they seemed to belong to one person: eyes closing, eyebrows raising, mouths falling open, heads tilting back.  They breathed out a sigh together, their voices falling in unison.  And then, as his hips met hers, they opened their eyes together, their faces filled with wonder, and leaned together for a kiss.

Kerri stared, the penis inside her almost forgotten.

She knew what sex between her and Winston looked like, because they had done it facing a mirror more than once; she and Winston liked athletic sex, liked to find new ways to drive each other wild with pleasure.  What she was seeing from Patrick and Amanda was something completely different.  They moved slowly, kissing often, their bodies intertwined; she had her legs up around his waist, her arms hooking around his shoulders.  Was it because Patrick had a short fuse?—that would be expected, to go straight from dinner to sex without stopping to pee, and without a blowjob to take the edge off first.  But Kerri didn't think it was that at all.  She thought it was more that they were too happy to fuck.  After all, hadn't they been working towards this moment for four days?  Of course they would rather enjoy it than blow it all on an orgasm.  She watched them kiss, watched her stroke his face, watched him nibble at her ear and bury his face in her hair, and felt a strange hollowness inside.

Though Amanda was well and truly plastered, she knew enough to realize that Patrick wouldn't last long inside her.  She wished something could be done about that, because one thing was clear to her: she loved this.  She was underneath him, his entire weight on her, but she was bearing up; she was his support, his foundation.  She could feel his leg hairs against her buttocks, his hard abs against her stomach, the strength in his arms that held him up above her; she could look up to see his face hovering over her, caught between concentration and a bliss that threatened to engulf him; she could feel his penis, hard inside her, so warm, pushing deep within her, splitting her open in a way she'd never imagined possible.  She had all but forgotten about the others in the room; her focus was only on him.  She felt completely naked, and yet completely unashamed; she was free, freed of all anxiety and insecurity, caught under him and yet completely inured to any hurt or injury; she felt whole for the first time in her life, felt a completeness on a fundamental level that she had never even realized she inhabited.  And she wasn't caught under him either; she had chosen to be here, to give herself to him, to be the woman who bore him.  This was where she wanted to be: under him, serving him, holding him up, held up by him; giving herself to him completely, and being given to in turn.  For there were no walls between them now, no barriers of his making or hers (mostly they had been hers); she could feel his heart beat against her chest, and knew that he felt the same.  They were married; they were, so long as they were joined this way, one flesh.

"Do you want to move?" she said to him.  Or maybe she breathed it.  Or maybe she thought it.  There was no telling right now.

He smiled.  "If I do, it'll end."

She drew him down to her, feeling herself mold to him; in her mind's eye she saw herself as some primordial clay, shaping herself to him, wrapping herself around him.  "It'll end," she breathed in his ear, "but that's okay.  We have something to look forward to for next time.  We know where we can be and what we can do.  The door is open."  And, exerting control she didn't know she had, she squeezed his manhood with her vagina (where had she learned to do that, anyhow?), knowing instinctively that it would bring him closer to the edge, that he had no counter for it.  "I want you to come inside me," she whispered.  "I want you to make me your woman."

He did.

It only took three more thrusts before he was gone.  She knew it wouldn't last, and focused herself (Darn this alcohol-induced distraction!) on enjoying what she could.  She felt his penis withdrawing and returning within her—the marvelous feeling of his shaft slipping in between her lips, of the ridge behind his cock head pressing against her inner walls.  She felt his body come into contact with her clit as he bottomed out, feeling the ripples and shocks of pleasure.  She felt his warm breath on her skin, heard its whoosh and bellow.  She felt the way his body tremored between her legs as he came, the way his buttocks clenched with each rush of seed, the feeling of warmth and wetness inside her as his semen poured out in a gush.  And, as he gave his final grunt and pushed deep, she opened her eyes to see his face—the tightening, the focus, the chase; the way pleasure burst forth across his face, dissolving the knots of tension there; the way he sagged against her in total relaxation, his heart thundering, his body limp like a warm blanket.  And she kissed his face and whispered to her how good he felt, and how much she loved him, as he gave himself up to pleasure and surrendered to her body.

After a time, they became aware of other noises and other movement.  Winston was still in the armchair, and now Kerri had straddled him and was driving them both to climax.  Kerri was yelping at every downstroke, and Winston's breath was rough upon the air; his hands were at her breasts, cupping, twisting, while hers sought balance at his shoulders.  She might've come first; Amanda had no way of telling.  She only knew when it ended because Winston's voice scaled up the octave, open-ended cries that suddenly went still; and he pushed himself up into his wife's body as she held completely still over him, and Amanda was surprised to note that she could see his testicles move up, see the base of his shaft twitch with each squirt of semen.  Finally he collapsed, spent, and Kerri wiped sweat from her face before turning to look at them.  "Sorry, but we got kind of, umm...  Inspired."  And Amanda laughed and told them it was okay.

They curled up together in bed like spoons, she sheltered in the arc of his body, feeling his breath in her hair, his warm rough palm on her breast.  She felt sacred, and warm, and more cared-for than she ever had in her life.  Only one major fear penetrated her alcohol- and orgasm-soothed brain as she dropped off to sleep: what about tomorrow?  Would any of the things that had worked tonight still apply tomorrow?  It was a tense, worrisome thought, and she could not help but wonder over it before sleep finally claimed her.