A frolicking foursome makes the most of a balmy evening by quenching their erotic thirst with lust rather than lemonade.

“You know, I think the swing needs a little oil,” Don said to me as I poured us each a nice cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. “I’m all out, and the hardware store closes at one on Sundays. I’ll go next door and see if Hal has any to spare.” As he shut the kitchen door behind him, I grabbed two more glasses down from the cabinet. I added crushed ice, a few sprigs of mint from the terra-cotta pots on our porch, and filled the glasses to the rim. Then I went upstairs and changed.

To some, Don’s comment would have sounded perfectly innocent. But I know my husband better than that. I slid out of my frayed jeans and t-shirt and into a flirty white... Read More