I found the magic peephole totally by accident. Clarence, my basset hound, had slipped his leash and gone on a rampage down an alley near my new house.

“We have got to find a drink around this place,” I said, lying on my side on my mattress.

“We have got to find a drink around this place,” I said, lying on my side on my mattress.

I’d landed a temporary position in New York City, and Carmen and I decided it would be ridiculous to have our van or any vehicle with us during our stint there. We’d be living in a furnished condo, so we didn’t need to ship a lot of furniture from our place in Oregon. But we had some personal effects that we would need. We thought: What if we drove our stuff in the van, cross-country, with someone local who could then drive our van back to our home?

None of our close friends were up for the journey, but some casual acquaintances — friends of friends named Dave and Bette — said they’d love to accompany us. Dave’s father lives in Virginia, so after dropping us off, they would take a detour south with our van to visit him before heading back west. It seemed like a good plan.

Bette and Dave are about ten years younger than Carmen and me. They’re also very likable and attractive. Bette is a pixie-like brunette with short hair and sexy-sweet lips. Dave is tall, fair, and handsome. They’re both lively and prone to benign mischief. Of course, that vivacity could wear thin during a long road trip, but that was a risk we were willing to take.

Now, about Carmen and me. We’re in our late 40s, and both in pretty good shape. She’s tall with long gold-colored hair that she sometimes plaits in a single braid. She has a kind of innocent look about her that belies her devilish side. Me? I’m medium height, fit and slightly gray at the temples.

Before our trip, Carmen and I had never experimented with ethical non-monogamy. Nor nonethical non-monogamy, for that matter. Over the years we’d talked now and again about embarking on polyamorous adventures. But as time passed, we thought it might never happen. The longer a couple is together, we figured, the more swiftly the chance of them becoming swingers diminishes.

The first sexy talk that broke out during our foursome’s trip happened on a stretch of U.S. Highway 20 running through Wyoming. It was late on our second day on the road, and I was at the wheel. Apropos of nothing, Bette asked: “How many of us have ever been to a nudist camp?”

“Not I,” said Carmen, laughing. “Sounds uncomfortable.” She grimaced jokingly and added, “Pine needles!”

“Me neither,” I said. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.”

“So, have you?” I asked her.

“Technically no — not a camp. But Dave and I once went to that nude beach along the Columbia River.”

“My God!” said Carmen. “What was that like? Did you go the full monty?”

“For a little while,” Dave elaborated. “Mostly just when we went in the water. We were both a little concerned about sunburning things that shouldn’t ever get burned.”

“You’re definitely more adventurous than me,” Carmen said. “Did anyone ever get… you know?”

“Sexual?” asked Bette.

“Yeah,” my wife said.

Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw a big smile on Dave’s face and heard Bette giggle.

“Not on the beach,” she said. “But along the trail that went down to the water, we got an eyeful.”

“Details, please!” Carmen pleaded.

“I guess it could be described as a small orgy,” Dave picked up. “Two couples were going at it. There was a whole group of guys — and a couple of women — watching them.”

He and Bette went on to relate more about what they’d seen, and as they talked, they grew increasingly frank about the details.

“One of the voyeur guys had a wiener on him the size of an English cucumber,” Bette marveled, making the rest of us laugh.

“I haven’t heard anyone call it a wiener since fourth grade,” Carmen teased.

“What should I call it, then?” asked Bette.

“Dick?” I suggested. “Cock? Wang?”

“Trouser snake?” Dave chimed in, and soon we were all throwing out crazy slang names for penis. Things like “wonder wand” and “love lizard.” But Carmen took the cake when she came up with “abominable anaconda.” By then, we were all howling like loons.

I found myself aroused as well as amused. Maybe it was partly being cooped up in the cramped vehicle. My hard-on was in a testy mood, constrained by my tight clothes.

That night, as soon as Carmen and I got to our room at the roadside motel, we stripped and began screwing like sex-starved beasts. She was so unusually vocal that I thought her passionate wailing would wake up the whole establishment!

There was still a long way to go until we reached New York. We had plenty of time to take side trips here and there to break up the monotony of the road. But after that nude beach discussion, our conversations in the van grew increasingly racy. Not all the time. But somehow things quite frequently turned adult-oriented and intimate.

We learned, for instance, that back in college Dave had once hooked up with the younger sister of a fairly well-known female pop singer. Carmen and I found ourselves telling some of our spicier and more embarrassing anecdotes to them, too. Somewhere near the border between Nebraska and Iowa — with Dave at the wheel and Bette riding shotgun — Carmen let it slip that I have a penis with “some girth to it.”

“Oh, I like that!” Bette exclaimed. “Forget those foot-long wieners,” she added, prompting another group laugh. “It’s girth that makes all the difference. At least in my book.”

At that moment, the blood in my body didn’t know which way to flow. Simultaneously, I felt my face flush and my pecker puff up. Carmen, sitting beside me, noticed the latter. She gave me a sly smile, then furtively squeezed my inflating phallus. But she wasn’t furtive enough. Bette turned her face to the backseat at that exact moment. She smirked upon seeing Carmen groping my groin.

“Hey, kids,” teased Bette. “Am I going to have to put you two in a time-out? When I told you to play nice back there, I didn’t meanthatnice.”

We’d decided to time things so we’d arrive very near NYC at the end of our next-to-last travel day. We’d made reservations at an inn where we could get a good night’s sleep followed by a nourishing breakfast. Then we would make the final short leg of our journey into Manhattan the next morning.

But when we got to the inn, there was a problem. There’d been a plumbing incident earlier that day. Only one of our two reserved suites was available, although it had two queen-size beds. The proprietor was willing to offer us a discounted price. OK, fine. What choice did we have? Besides, by that point, the thought of the four of us sharing a room was pretty enticing.

“This seems kind of preordained, doesn’t it?” remarked Bette, who was sitting at the foot of one of the beds. “Come over here, Carmen. What say we give the fellas a show?”

This turn was shocking, but somehow not surprising.

Within seconds, the two women were making out. Dave and I stood there, each trying to ignore the fact that the other was rubbing his pecker through his jeans.

Bette stripped to the waist, revealing creamy tits with tiny raspberry-like nipples. Carmen kissed those nips like they were precious goods — which they were! Then Bette pulled down Carmen’s shorts and panties, revealing her hot pocket of a pussy, which was accented with tidily trimmed pubic hair. Immediately, Bette was lapping at Carmen’s twat. She was like a rambunctious, thirsty puppy.

All four of us were soon naked on that mattress, leaving the other bed undisturbed.

Dave was more muscular and less hairy than I thought he would be. His uncut dick was longer than my circumcised one, but mine indeed had more of Bette’s beloved girth.

What a charge I got when Bette took the head of my boner into her mouth, while Carmen simultaneously attended to Dave’s impressive erection! She was using the same little kisses on his cockhead that she’d used on Bette’s cute nipples.

At one point, Carmen and I took a few seconds to huddle privately.

“Do we go full-tilt, honey?” she queried. “I’m up for it.”

“You don’t have to ask,” I said.

Moments later, Dave sprawled on his back, and Carmen promptly straddled him, taking his condom-sheathed schlong into her snatch. I was surprised by the roughness of their fucking, but she clearly loved the feeling of that strange new prick giving her pussy what it craved.

I vividly remember Bette on all fours on the bed with my tongue darting in and out of her puckered butthole. Carmen and Dave, by that point, had shifted to a missionary fuck. The slap-slap-slapping sound of his flesh against hers as he thrust deep into her gushing cunt still rings in my ears even now — as do her loud orgasmic moans.

Much of the rest of the evening is a blur, though. I do recall the gasps from Bette as I brought her off with my tongue flicking at her clit. I remember Dave coming while thrusting his hard-on between Carmen’s ample breasts — his semen streaming down her belly to her navel. And I remember both ladies licking my stiff dong until my jizz shot in the air like a geyser.

We parted in Manhattan the next day. Dave and Bette went off in the van for their family visit to Virginia. Carmen and I settled into our new digs and set about concentrating on learning how to navigate the subway system.

We may not see the two of them again until my job concludes and we’re all together once more in Oregon. But they’re considering a visit to the East Coast in the new year. If they show up, we’ll be ready for them!