Flirting with Fire: A Summer Camp Swingers novel

I tensed when she moved again, although I relaxed when she only brushed her fingertips over my stomach. Then she traced the contour of my soft penis. My breathing quickened when she spread a bead of moisture around the tip. She raised her finger to her lips, and her eyelids drooped as she tasted it.

“Mmm, I’ve missed that more. It’s been so long since I had a dick in my mouth.” She studied me with feline amusement again. Then without warning she tickled my foot with her big toe. I jerked reflexively. She did it again, so I moved my foot away and glared. “Sorry,” she laughed. “I’ll behave.”

I wasn’t so sure.

“I will. I promise.”

Her expression settled into friendly amusement, and I sensed a longer conversation. I rolled to face her and propped my head on my fist. I let my eyes explore the lines of her body. She knew she was attractive, but she hadn’t been reminded lately.

She blushed and lowered her eyes. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

After a moment she effectively changed the subject and turned her attention to the room itself.

My plans for the house had always included a guest bedroom and bath on the ground floor, although my first designs had them near the kitchen. The kids’ bedrooms were all upstairs on that side of the house, so it made sense to put guests there too.

Then Christy had looked at my sketches and asked a couple of innocent-sounding questions, like she always did. At that point the room over the garage had become the main guest suite, the formal dining room had taken over downstairs, and the bedroom had moved to the other side of the house.

These days, guests reached it through a nondescript door at the end of the colonnaded hallway that spanned the living room. A short passage under the main stairs led to a perpendicular hallway that connected the guest bedroom at the front of the house with the master suite at the rear.

The hallway served another purpose, a sound barrier between the living room and the bedrooms, along with the cavernous room we called the grotto. It also gave us the privacy to move around without anyone noticing. That was what Christy had wanted all along, although she gave me credit for thinking of it.

Allie finished her survey and drew me back to the present.

“So, this is the famous swinger suite?” She quirked her lips in a grin. “Come here often?”

I’d made the same pun a dozen times, but it didn’t get any better when someone else said it.

“As often as I can,” I said, completely without irony.

“Mmm, I noticed. Since we’re on the subject… can we sneak into the grotto, through there?” She pointed toward my feet and the door beyond.

“No. It’s just a regular bathroom. The grotto is down the hall, through a separate door.”

“Ah, okay. I thought— I mean…” She searched her memory. “I guess you’re right. It’s been a while since you gave me a tour. Like, when you first moved in. Oh, wow! Has it really been four years?”

“Just about.”

“I guess I don’t remember as well as I thought. Though I could’ve sworn… I mean… Christy’s always talking about…”

“We have an entrance through our bathroom.”

“Ah, right!”

“We use this room for normal guests, too, ones who aren’t swingers.” Like my in-laws. “We don’t want them to wander into the grotto unannounced. Besides, it might raise questions if we had two bedrooms connected by a hallway and a pass-through from the spa.”

“Makes sense,” Allie agreed. “And since I’ve never been asked to spend the night, much less to the grotto…” She was teasing, although she had the good grace to admit it with a wry smile. “Yeah, I know… my fault.”

“Mmm.”

She looked around the room again. “It’s nice.”

“You’re welcome to stay.”

“Tonight? I’d love to, but… How would that work? I mean… what about… you know, your wife?” She frowned at the evasion. “Sorry. What about Christy?”

“What about her? You know about our relationship.”

“Yeah, I know. But… for real, how does this sharing thing work? Do I need to ask first? Do you? Don’t ask, don’t tell? I don’t wanna overstep any boundaries…”

“You aren’t. We have a list.”

“Of playmates?” She grinned, so it was another pun.

“Ha! Yes. Unfortunately, you aren’t a small-p playmate—not officially, at least—but you sort of are. Sorry, I know it sounds like I’m making this up as I go along…” I was pretty sure that Ken had muddied those waters as well.

“No, it’s okay,” Allie said. “I know Christy’s MO. She’s all about hints and suggestions… doublespeak.” She shrugged. “She has to be. She’s a woman.” She sounded annoyed more than condescending.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said.

“What? Sexism? The patriarchy?” She dismissed it with a shrug. “You aren’t the problem. If anything, you’re trying to make a difference.”

I have three daughters.

“Anyway, about this list,” Allie continued. “I’m on it, sort of, but not?” She thought about the situation and laughed to herself. “Christy doesn’t do anything simple, does she?”

“Nope. Not if she can help it. She works behind the scenes, pulling the strings.”