The weather had been warm all through exams, but now it was hot. Too hot for gardening and almost too hot for cleaning the car – both jobs for which my parents paid me a little, and which they hoped would keep me at home most of the time till the autumn, and sixth form started. And just as I was wondering what I would do through the long hot Friday without arousing my mother’s whining, Quentin rang. “Would you like to come round for the afternoon?”  Quentin was the nearest I had to a best friend at school, and he lived in a relatively superior house on the other side of our small town. “Come any time after 2.”

So at very few minutes after 2, I wheeled my bike around the side of his house and was warmly greeted by Quentin in a pair of very brief shorts. “Great to see you. Get that T-shirt off and come and have a drink – Coke or shandy?” “Coke’ll be fine.”

We wandered out into the garden and Quentin pulled up a couple of wooden loungers with pads.  We sat on the loungers and sipped our Cokes.

“What would you like to do?” asked Quentin.

“Well, I was hoping we could just relax in the sun, read a magazine or perhaps play some music.”

“We can listen to some music later, we try to keep the noise down in the garden, otherwise our neighbours either complain or put on even louder so-called music. … Do you want to sunbathe properly?”

“What do you mean properly?” I asked.  My parents were paranoid about skin cancer and hated me to bare any skin.

“If I get the sun tan lotion, we could take off all our clothes and get an all-over tan.”

My insides made a little lurch – but, so what, we went naked in the showers at school. We had seen one another without clothes, and this garden was not overlooked.  Quentin lived in a detached house at the end of a close and the angle of the large turning circle placed the houses at angles to each other. And beyond, though you could not see beyond the bushes and trees at the end of the garden, were open fields.

“Yes, sure,” I answered and bent to take off my trainers and socks while Quentin went inside to fetch the sun cream.  When he returned I stood up and boldly quaking, pushed my shorts and pants down in one go. He quickly joined me and I saw straightaway that he had no tan line – he was brown all the way down his thighs and when he turned round, his nice round bum was a gentle shade of brown. Of course, I was white for about a foot where my shorts always covered me and where I wore socks.

“I think you’d better have some cream on your bum,” he said. “Lie down, and I’ll put it on.”

I lay down on the lounger – what a lovely feeling as my naked body sank into the soft upholstered pad. He squeezed some lotion on to the bottom of my back, spread it with his hands and then gave me a massage, rubbing it in, all over my white bum, and just a little way into the crease. After the first moment, I relaxed and let his hands do their wonderful work.  The only problem was that my cock began to harden, and I could hardly lift myself up to push it down into a more comfortable position. Quentin put on some more and worked down round my thighs, both inside and out.

Then he said, “Turn over, and we’ll do your front.”

I hesitated, knowing that my cock would stick straight out – in fact more than straight out – more like upwards at 45? - an angle I was quite proud of. He gave me a bit of help and over I went.  As I turned my head up, feeling that my face must be turning a bright red, I saw that I was not alone in having a hard-on. Quentin’s ministrations to my backside had aroused him, and his cock was sticking straight out, at 90? to his crutch.

We both laughed, and the ice was broken. “That’s alright then,” he said. “I shan’t have to grease your cock, I’ve found it rarely gets burnt, but I need to put some on around it. OK?”

After the intensely pleasurable feelings he had given me thus far, I wasn’t going to stop him now.  “Yes, carry on. You’re doing a great job.”

So he completed his work.  Our hard-ons softened a bit, but our cocks stayed nicely enlarged.  “I think we could let the sun do its work now,” he said.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’m pretty well hardened up now,” he replied, “and anyway I’m much darker than you. Perhaps you should watch out for your cock a bit, if you lie on your back for a while.  Your hairs are fairer than mine and your bush is not so thick, but you can put some on my crutch – anyone can easily get burnt there.”

He poured some lotion on to the top of his legs and invited me to rub it in.  Our hard-ons returned – and we both enjoyed the feelings – but we didn’t go any further. Duly protected from burning, we turned to getting a nice tan.  Quentin had been reading a book when I arrived and there were a number of books scattered around.  I found one that looked promising and started to read it as Quentin went back to his.

After a while I was aware of someone coming out of the house, and looking round I say Quentin’s sister Julia approaching. Like Quentin, Julia is dark – in fact she’s a terrific brunette, about 2 years younger than us, just turned 14.  She was wearing a dress, well just about a dress and only a dress.  It was thin, it was very short, and it was undone about half way down the front. Her nipples stood out firmly and a small dark patch of hair was just visible between her legs.  I was glad that I was still lying on my front, though it was suddenly quite uncomfortable again.

“Hi, Quentin, you didn’t say we had company.”

“This is Gary,” said Quentin, rousing himself up a little.

“Yes, I’ve seen him at school. Hi, Gary.  Aren’t you going to greet me properly?” she added with a bit of grin.

I  turned enough to proffer my hand and said, “Hi, Julia, nice to meet you.”

She took my hand and gave it brief squeeze.  “Since you two are obviously enjoying the sun, I trust there will be no problem if I join you?”

“Carry on, sis,” replied Quentin, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Gary, would you give me a hand to get out of this dress?” she teased. She came close and almost put the bottom button in my hand.  I undid it, and she undid the top one, revealing a little more of her pert breasts. I ventured to undo another, and soon they were all undone, and she was shedding it to reveal the most beautiful young body I had every seen. She was completely naked – as I had expected – except for a thin gold chain resting on her hips.

“Thank you, Gary, I’m glad you could come. Staying long?” she smiled.

“I don’t know – my mother expects me back for tea…”

“You must stay for tea,” interposed Quentin, “and why not stay the night?”

“I’ve not brought anything with me. And I’d have to get permission.”

“No trouble.  You can ring home and if there is any problem mum can speak to your mother and sort it out.  She’ll be home in an hour.”

“That’s nice, ?cos I’m going to be out tonight, staying at Heather’s,” said Julia.

With that, she went and lay down on a lounger and took up her book.  I too picked up the book I’d just started but the sight of that firm young figure was such a distraction I got very little read in the next hour or so.  Julia seemed rather distracted too, often glancing up just as I looked across, and giving me a whimsical little grin. If I was going to be welcome here then life had just taken a very decided upturn.
 

 
Afternoon

Eventually, Julia got up, draped her dress over her shoulder and went off into the house to change. About 20 minutes later she returned dressed more modestly in a short dress and a soft bra; she came over to me and gave me a peck on the cheek. Then she went to Q and lent over him and gave him a proper kiss on the lips; he set down his book, put his arms around her and kissed her back, passionately – there was no other word to describe it – and I thought I detected a brief brush of her left nipple as his hand passed.

“Bye, sis,” he said, “See you tomorrow. Be good.”

“Not much chance of being anything else there, but we’ll still enjoy ourselves.  See you.”

And with that she was gone.  She must have passed her mum, for a moment or two later Quentin’s mother appeared, which gave me no time to think on what I had just seen.

A dark haired lady of about 40 hurried into the garden, undoing her dress as she did so. She stopped when she saw me, then took in my nakedness and let her dress fall to the ground.

“You don’t mind if I join you?” she said, undoing her bra and pushing down her pants. It’s so hot and I’ve been cooped up with all those sweaty women at the WI for a couple of hours.”  Her breasts were quite firm, for a middle-aged mother of two.  She had a small triangle of black pubic hair, and her belly had very little fat. I just smiled – everything was so different here from home, and I was beginning to relax in this totally new environment.  Quentin got off the lounge, gave her a smacking kiss on her lips, and said, “This is Gary.” Mrs Stephens came over to me and shook my hand very warmly and said, “Welcome, I’m so glad to meet you. Gary has often mentioned you and he said he was hoping you would come over this afternoon.  I hope you are coping with our laid back ways.”

“I’m very much enjoying it,” I replied.

“Can Gary stay for tea and, perhaps, overnight?” asked Quentin.

“What arrangements have you made?” she asked.

“I would have to phone home, and soon, and I think mother would be concerned that I have no toothbrush, pyjamas and so on. But I’d really like to stay, if it is alright with you.”

“Let’s go and make that phone call.  You ring your mother and explain, and when she asks the questions all mothers ask, put her on to me.”  So we went indoors, just as we were – it was a bit strange at first, walking into someone’s house quite naked, my balls hanging down in the heat; and a woman I had only just met, with amazingly firm breasts leading the way.

I rang my mother and told her of the invitation.  As I expected, she raised all sorts of objections but did not forbid me to stay – she realised that it might have provoked a rebellion – so I eventually put Mrs Stephens on and she dealt with her magnificently. “No trouble at all, we have spare toothbrushes and all that sort of thing.  … Pyjamas? No problem, we have everything that Gary will need. Can he stay till about 5 tomorrow; we are going out in the day and it would be good for Quentin to have a friend?  … I am so glad you are happy with those arrangements. I look forward to meeting you sometime.  Goodbye, Mrs Spence…. Give me your socks.  You’ll not need them till tomorrow – I’ll wash them out and they will be dry by tomorrow. Do you have any sandals?   … we’ll have to see if we’ve got an old pair that will fit for tomorrow.  It’ll be too hot for trainers if the temperature stays up.”

What a superb day this was turning out to be!  I escaped from home for a night very rarely and this promised to be a really fun time.
 
Afternoon turns to Evening

In the garden, I told Quentin that everything was fixed for me to stay for the night and through the day on Saturday.  “Great! Let me show you my bedroom – you’ll be sleeping with me.”  Little did I know how true that would be.  We picked up our clothes and we went back into the house.  Taking me by the hand, he led me upstairs and into his bedroom.  It was a large room, overlooking the garden, and contained a proper double bed, a desk, a couple of chests of drawers, lots of bookshelves and some fitted wardrobes and cupboards.  I realised then that sleeping with him meant sharing his bed – I’d not done that since I was in junior school – and I felt a certain thrill at the thought.

We flung T-shirt and shorts on a chest and I put my shoes in the corner – Q’s mother had already taken the socks off me and I guess they were probably hung on the line by now.

“Let’s get to know one a bit better,” said Quentin, and pulled me down on to the bed.  “Can I kiss you?” he asked.  He really meant “may” because I don’t think I could have stopped him if I’d wanted to. We kissed, tentatively at first, and then more deeply, and finally we opened our mouths and our tongues met.  My cock leapt to attention and as we separated we both looked down at our rigid hard cocks.

“I saw you were circumcised,” Quentin said, stroking the end of my cock gently. I had known that he was uncut from when we were in the showers together, and I envied the boys with a foreskin, even though they were in the minority in our school.

“I wish I hadn’t been cut,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “You’ve got a lovely smooth cock-head.  Although you’ve lost most of your ‘skin’ it’s been done really well, and you’ve got a nice bit of skin under the head.” He stroked and pulled gently at the top of my frenum (as I later learned it was called).

“Why don’t you feel my foreskin?  Put your hand round it and pull it back.”  I put my hand gently round another boy’s cock for the first time – my cock went up to its fullest 45º hardness. I pulled his 'skin back, revealing his bright red head. If I hadn’t already been so excited, I think I would have kissed it there and then.

“It’s lovely,” I said.  He drew me back to himself and kissed me passionately.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said. “In case you’re wondering – I’m not gay.  It’s just that we have been brought up to enjoy sex whoever it involves.  We keep this to ourselves – but I know I can trust you implicitly not to share this with anyone at all.”

He did know that.  Thinking back over the past year, I recalled he had often told me things “in confidence” and I had kept his confidences totally, although there had been times when it had been difficult to keep quiet.  He obviously knew that, and so I was being trusted with the secrets of the family.  What else was there, I wondered?

Our cocks were both hard, so we started stroking ourselves off. “Let’s wank one another,” he said, as so for the first of many times we pulled one another off. Oh that feeling of someone else’s hand going up and down on your cock for the first time, the skin running up and down – and his foreskin flapping up and back.  It was not long before we cried out, almost together, “I’m cumming!”  and cum we did, copiously right on to one another’s bellies. Quentin took his hand off his cock and rubbed his hand on the cum covering his stomach and rubbed it into his cock – as I did the same to his cum on my belly. Our cocks hardened almost immediately, but Quentin said, “Wait, keep the rest of your spunk till later.  We’ve all night together. Let’s have a shower.”

I pulled him to me and kissed him, with passion and lust. He responded likewise as our slippery cocks rubbed against one another.  In due course, we got up and he led me by the hand to the shower – which was a proper tiled shower area in the bathroom.  We showered together for ages, soaping one another all over but being very careful not to rub our cocks too much.  Eventually we dried and went downstairs, carrying our shorts in case a visitor came unexpectedly.

“You look content,” said Q’s mum, with a smile. “I can guess what you’ve been up to. Will you lay the table first and then you can have about 20 minutes final sunbathing before it will be time to eat.  Henry should be home soon.”

Quentin led me into the dining room, we laid the table, and then we went out into the garden to recline  on the loungers till it was time to eat.  This time, we pulled the loungers closer together, and I found we kept on touching hands. Occasionally Quentin would put his hand on my bottom and run it around and into my crack. After about 10 minutes, his father Henry came in, shedding his clothes, just like his wife. Mrs Stephens pointed me out to him, with a smile and a few words. He came straight out, naked as could be and shook my hand, saying how glad he was that I was able to stay.  Would we like a drink? And so we spent the few minutes up to the meal, sitting on the loungers discussing the news of the day – which he had caught on the car radio as he had driven home.

In the north of England, dinner is in the middle of the day. In the south, lunch is at 1 o’clock and dinner is at 8 pm.  That’s an oversimplification, but it spells out a social difference which I knew.  We had dinner at 12.30 and tea at 6, or “high tea” as mother called it when she was being posh.  The Stephens had dinner, though we did not have to wait till 8 to eat, which was a good thing, for the sex had taken the last bit of energy out of me.  But it was dinner, it had three courses and we had to dress for it!  i.e. Mrs Stephens put on a very flimsy dress and the men put their shorts and shirts on. We had a little cold fish – smoked salmon I think – then a main course of meat with baked potatoes and salad and finally a proper pudding with ice-cream and custard. Since it was still light and warm, we went back into the garden for a drink and fruit.

As darkness fell, we went back into the house and washed up and put everything away.  I thought they might have had a dish-washer, but they believed in everyone helping, and so they didn’t have one.  Then, into the lounge, for some TV … where clothes were once again abandoned as the room warmed up.  We cuddled together on one sofa and Quentin’s mum and dad cuddled on another.  We just kept still, enjoying one another’s presence – they were clearly having some preliminaries before sex that night; he would rub her breasts and her cunt;  she stroked his cock and pinched his nipples, and of course they kissed a lot. After the programme had finished and Mr Stephens had watched the news headlines, they turned the TV off and suggested a game.  So there we were, playing Scrabble for an hour or so, occasionally touching our partners in quite intimate places. Quentin’s mum beat us all and then went to get some drinks – we had the best hot chocolate I had ever tasted – and so to bed.
 
 
 

 
Our First Night

We went upstairs holding hands, just like young lovers, which in a way we were. Quentin’s parents stayed to wash up to give us time to get through the bathroom – which did not take long since we just splashed our faces, washed our hands and our teeth. Our feet could probably have done with washing as well, but we didn’t care – we just wanted to get into bed.
Quentin finished first and went into the bedroom, and by the time I got there the lights were out, but he had lit candles in a number of places round the room.  I had not noticed any holders earlier, but they looked well-used, so I wondered who else had warranted this “romantic” treatment.
“Wow, what is this?” I commented.
“Well, occasionally Julia and I have a romantic evening, listening to music together and so on, and it makes things nice and cosy, don’t you think?”
I wondered what else they got up to, but didn’t say anything.
I got into bed – or rather, onto the bed – for the sheet was folded right back and the duvet was rolled up at the foot of the bed – ready for later if the temperature continued to drop.  Quentin was lying on his side and I snuggled up to him and we began to kiss again. How long we kissed, I don’t know.  I just know that we explored one another’s mouths and then he kissed my eyes and nibbled down my neck… and on down to my nipples which he sucked into his mouth and very gently nipped with his teeth.  First one and then the other, and down over my stomach.  He bypassed my cock and started again at my feet, working his way up the inside of my legs until his tongue finally touched my balls.  I groaned, partly out of anticipation of what I hoped would follow … and it did, for first he touched the tip of my cock with the end of his tongue and then stroked its underside.  By now it was so hard as to be almost painful. I folded my hands behind my head and looked down at this wonderful sight. Having licked down and up each side of my rigid cock, he took the end into his mouth – I almost came immediately. “Steady,” I said, “I don’t want to cum just yet.”
He stopped moving for a little while and then sucked gently, and licked and sucked, and licked and sucked. It bucked once and again, and I cried “I’m cumming,” and I came, right into his mouth.  He took it all, and just held my cock in his mouth and sucked gently, swallowing some of my spunk and savouring the rest.  In the end he let my cock go; I lay back with a beatific smile on my lips.  Quentin said, “My word, that was good,” and came back to my mouth and we kissed wildly, my cum lubricating our kissing. Finally, he said, “Would you like to try?”
We changed places and I knelt over Quentin. I started on his earlobes and kissed all round his face and on his eyes and then worked my way down, his nipples, his belly button and then, like him, starting at his feet I worked up his legs till I reached his balls.  I licked his balls, which were quite soft and hanging down, and gently sucked one into my mouth, and then the other, and then tucked both of them in, and sucked gently. Then I worked my way up his cock and finally put my mouth over his cock-head.  His foreskin was already partway back as his cock was standing rigidly to attention. I peeled it back as far as it would go with my mouth and then sucked the whole of the top half of his cock into my mouth.  Quentin was groaning away all the while, encouraging me, and then his cock started to shake and buck, “I’m cumming, and it’s going to be …” and he came into my mouth, several times.  I did my best to suck it up and ran my mouth up and down and sucked for all I was worth.  Eventually, his cock went soft – I pulled his foreskin up with my lips as I came off him, and we kissed, and kissed again and again.
A few minutes later Mrs Stephens tiptoed in, pulled the sheet up over the two sleeping boys, laid the light-weight summer duvet over them, snuffed out the candles and crept back to bed, where she crawled in beside her husband, who was already asleep, having fucked his wife with his usual enthusiasm.  She smiled at him and smiled at what she guessed had gone on in the next bedroom, and went quickly off to sleep herself.

 
Saturday
Next day, the weather was just as warm. Breakfast was eaten in the kitchen, in shorts – “I can’t stand flaccid cocks and hanging balls at 8 in the morning,” Mrs Stephens had said once, so that was that. Shorts or pants, even a jock-strap would suffice, and she was wearing a plain long dress, but no bra of course.
“We’ve been invited to the Brooks’ to use their swimming pool today,” said Quentin’s dad.
 “That’s great!” said Q, “We won’t need costumes there.”

“Get yourselves showered and the room tidy, and we’ll go over about 11. You can leave your bike here, Gary – and pick it up about 4.”
Off we went, and showered, together of course. This time we knew there would be few opportunities to wank off again that day, so we really went for it in the shower.  What with the soap and a firm spray, we both came twice and I got to suck Q dry.  He sucked me as he knelt on the shower floor and took the opportunity to stick his finger into my arsehole just a little way.  Not enough to worry me, but just enough to point in the direction of the future. So at 11 sharp, we jumped in the car wearing only shorts, T-shirts and sandals – Mrs Stephens had conjured up a pair that fitted me well enough.  She had on sandals and, I suspected, just the dress.
The Brooks’ house was really posh – it belonged to a friend of Mr Stephens in Rotary and they often used the pool when the Brooks went to their weekend cottage. It was a good size, surrounded by fencing and yet with plenty of loungers, even some shade from the big trees on one side.  We all stripped off and jumped in and swam around for a few minutes before hauling ourselves out for some more sunbathing.  This was going to be a laze day!
After few minutes, Mrs Stephens came over with the sun cream. “Turn over on your front,” she ordered, and promptly set about covering the backs of my legs, the back of my torso, and finally my backside itself with lotion.  She rubbed it in with long smooth strokes – Quentin had had a good teacher – and then she made sure that I had some in my arse slit, though I could not think of how the sun could reach there!
“Over on to your back now,” she said, and over I went.  Fortunately,  my cock had had a good go earlier with Quentin, so it was still quite soft. She greased my legs, the soles of my feet, my front, my nose and then looked thoughtfully – was it longingly? – at my crotch before covering my thighs, working down between my legs, pushing them apart. “You’re quite fair,” she commented, “I’m going to do your cock as well.” I said nothing; my mother would never have referred to my penis as a cock, but there was nothing false about this family.  She put some lotion in her hand, and inserted it under my balls, rubbed gently round and worked up to my cock. “You have a lovely smooth cock, you know,” she said, “You don’t need to feel there’s anything wrong with being cut, circumcised. Being cut or not, each has its advantages and disadvantages.  Be proud of this lovely cock – enjoy it.”  She smiled and went back to her lounger.
Later on we had a good swim before our lunch, which we ate under the shade of the trees.  Afterwards we went to sunbathe some more.  “It’s even hotter today,” Q’s mum said, “We all need to reapply the sun cream.”  Mr Stephens had had to go out to see someone in connection with his business. Quentin and I applied cream to ourselves, and Mrs S put it on her arms and down the her legs. When we had done, she said, “Would one of you like to come and do me now?”
I looked at Quentin, and he said “I’ve done it before, your turn.” She could just as well have done her breasts, but she clearly wanted someone else to do it for her.  She first of all lay on her front, so I poured it on and rubbed it in starting at her feet and just working straight up to her shoulders.  Then she turned over.  I did the fronts of her legs… and hesitated. “Start on my belly,” she said with a smile, “and work up to my breasts.”  I had never put my hands on a girl or woman’s breasts before – well not naked ones – I had touched one of my girl friend’s breasts briefly once, but that was through lots of clothes.  I gently oiled her stomach and then took the plunge and poured the lotion onto her left breast, and rubbed gently.  She smiled, and said, “That’s nice, keep going. Do the other one now.” So I did.  My cock was beginning to fill. She shut her eyes, and murmured, “Very nice, keep going.”
Eventually I decided I couldn’t do any more there, so put some on the tops of her legs and rubbed it in, taking care not to touch her pussy regions.  “I know I’ve got lots of black pubic hair,” she said, suddenly, “but I’d like you to rub some into my pubic region too.  Will you do it for me?” I put some lotion on the ends of my fingers and pushed them down into the top of her triangle of hair.  It was not so dense as I had thought, and she had definitely trimmed it a bit. I rubbed it in all round and of course eventually the end of my finger found her cunt. “That’s right,” she murmured, “Don’t be nervous, rub it in the first half inch or so, that will do for today.” I did as I was bidden and finally withdrew my finger.  My cock was now standing out as far as it could.  I felt my face to be as red as could be, but she just smiled at me, and said, “Well done, you’re growing fast, young man. We like having you around.” She looked as if she would have liked to have wanked me off but she just sent me back to my lounger with her eyes – what a woman!
“I bet you both enjoyed that,” said Q, as I sat down on a lounger close beside him. I smiled my agreement. “I’m surprised she didn’t give your cock a little pull – but I suppose you’ve only been with us for 24 hours, though it seems like forever.  Mum can be very playful.”
We relaxed back, and dozed, and read until Mrs S appeared beside us carrying a tray of cold drinks and a pile of cakes – she had brought a tin with her and we hoped that they contained food, for we were getting hungry again, as teenage boys do.  We drank the drink and made a very large hole in the pile of cakes. After a while, Mr Stephens returned, threw off his clothes and we all joined him in the pool.  We swam around and everyone seemed to congregate in the same part of the pool – it was surprising how often a hand landed on a leg, or a back, or between ones legs. Then it was time to get out, to dry off in the sun for a little while and dress for home. We drove back, I put my nice clean socks on and my trainers and cycled home, but not before I had been kissed warmly by each member of the Stephens family, Henry included. In fact, his hug and kiss seemed a bit longer than the others, as if making up for what he had missed.
When I got home I was subject to the expected interrogation. “What did you do? … you went swimming … what did you wear?” – mistake to mention that one!
“They seem to be used to having guests, they seemed to have spares of most things…. and Mrs Stephens washed my socks out last night, so they are quite clean.”
“I hope you did not stay out too much in that fierce sun.”
“Don’t worry, mother, they are very particular about everyone using lots of sun cream.”
“That’s alright then, but I suppose you will want to be going back again tomorrow.”
“No, I haven’t any special plans for tomorrow, but they did ask if I could go over next Saturday for tea and stay till Sunday evening.”
“That will be alright, but your cousin Beatty is coming to stay in a fortnight or so.  You will have to help look after her.”
That was interesting news.  Beatty was about my age, but I had not seen her for at least three years.  Her mother was rather casual by my parent’s standards.  I wondered about Beatty’s mother letting her to stay in a household with a 16 year old boy – but I suppose she could not suppose that my parents would allow anything untoward happening to her “baby”. There would be no question of introducing her to the Stephens household without careful vetting, but maybe …
Meanwhile there was next weekend to look forward to, and Julia would be home.  How did she fit into the pattern of family sex?