My husband Bill and I have been friends with Sandra and Larry for several years.

Bill and Larry are avid fishermen, and each year they spend a week in the spring at a fishing resort in Michigan. Sandra and I don’t mind. While our men are trolling for lake trout and swatting mosquitoes, we take ourselves to places like New York or Chicago, where we do all the things the guys don’t care to do. We go to the opera, visit museums, browse at boutiques or antique shops, dine in bistros, soak up local culture and shop to our hearts’ content. It’s an arrangement made in heaven.

This spring we opted for San Francisco. To save money, we agreed to share a room at the hotel in the Haight-Ashbury district where we would be staying.

On our first afternoon we went bar-hopping. We wandered from one watering hole to another, trying whatever specialty drinks they had. By the time we got back to our room it was time for dinner, but we were feeling no pain, and neither of us had much of an appetite.

I tossed my purse onto the bed and sort of collapsed there myself. I kicked off my sandals, but didn’t have enough ambition even to get out of my sundress. The room felt like it was slowly spinning around.

“You better take a nap,” Sandra said. “I’m going to soak in the tub.”

I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. I was soon dozing, and for some reason I started to dream about my college roommate. JoAnn had been beautiful and sophisticated, and we had had a fling. Now, in my dream, JoAnn was once again between my legs, tonguing me to my first lesbian orgasm. In my sleep, my fingers were rubbing the crotch of my white nylon panties, which was slowly rotating against my hand. I must have made a noise, because when I woke Sandra was sitting on the edge of the bed in her bathrobe, looking at me with a puzzled expression.

“What are you doing there?” she asked with a grin.“I — I was asleep.”

“Really? It sounded like you were having a good time!”

I sighed. “I was dreaming about my best friend from college.”

“What was his name?”

“Her name was JoAnn. I’ve told you about her.”

Sandra took the hand that had been between my legs and kissed my fingers, still damp with my juices. “I don’t think you’ve told me everything,” she said.

Then she sucked a finger into her mouth. I slid my other hand around the back of her neck. Her hair was wet from her bath, and I toyed with it. Slowly we drew together, and our lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. After a few more tentative kisses, our lips became more demanding, and our tongues began to explore in our mouths. Sandra’s robe was falling open, exposing one of her firm breasts, with its erect brown nipple. I extracted myself from her arms and stood on wobbly legs next to the bed. I shucked my sundress over my head, and it fluttered to the floor. Except for my thin bra and panties, I was naked. Sandra was looking at me exactly the way she had looked at our hunky waiter at the last bar we’d hit. I didn’t care — I wanted her too.

She untied the belt at her waist and shrugged the robe from her shoulders. I started to unhook the front clasp of my bra.

“Let me do that,” Sandra said softly.

Her fingers fumbled between my breasts like an inexperienced teenage boy. She smiled shyly as the bra came undone. We melted back into one another’s arms, our sensitive boobs crushing together. I felt a tremendous rush of desire as I again pressed my lips to hers.

We toppled onto the bed. We rolled together, first me on top, then Sandra, then me again. My thigh was pressing against her crotch, and hers was rubbing mine. I could feel how wet she was. We clutched at each other, our fingers digging into tender flesh. The scent of female musk filled the room. Sandra came to rest on her back, and I kissed my way down her neck. She was toying with the hair at the nape of my neck with one hand, while the other cupped my dangling breast. I stuck my tongue in her ear and she gasped, then giggled. I sucked her ear lobe into my mouth and her fingers squeezed my boob, thumb and finger tweaking the nipple. I took my other breast in my own hand and did to myself what she was doing to me.

We rolled again, trading places. Sandra took my swollen nipple in her mouth and did wonderful things to the taut brown nubbin while continuing to gently pinch and squeeze the other one. Then she switched, her mouth replacing her hand, and vice versa. My fingers stole into my panties to part the oily folds of my womanhood, and I rubbed myself the way only I can. Sandra was doing herself too. Suddenly her thighs clamped around her hand. She arched her back, her head came up, her eyes squeezed shut and her whole body shivered as her orgasm overcame her. She slid down beside me, out of breath. I brought her hand to my face and licked each finger. Then I kissed her.

“Oh, baby,” she sighed. “Oh God, baby … tell me what to do.”

I lay on my back and raised my hips so I could peel the sopping panties down my long tan legs.

“I want you between my legs,” I said. “On top of me, like a guy.”

Except that she wasn’t like a guy. Sandra didn’t smell like a man, or taste like one. Her soft skin against mine gave me a thrill my husband could never match. She was a lot more careful with her weight than any man I’d ever been with, and as her breasts grazed mine I felt a sharp tingle of anticipation.

“Kiss me,” I panted. “All over.”

Sandra started with my mouth, slowly, than with more urgency. She worked her way down my neck and stopped at my breasts. After a few minutes she continued down my body, her tongue lingering at my navel. Further down, she ran her tongue along the sensitive skin where my thighs joined my torso. She worked her way down one thigh and back up the other, until she came to my cunt.

I loved her soft lips on me, her hot tongue probing my hole, then licking my hard little clitty. My hips were gently rocking as her mouth worked its magic. She slid one finger, than two, into my wet and oh so willing vagina.

I was getting close to coming, so I started playing with my boobs, squeezing them, pinching and pulling the nipples. I could feel it building; it was as though I was in free fall. And then the world exploded. My climax rushed through me like a flash flood down a narrow canyon. I stiffened and cried out, arching my back and clutching the fingers buried inside me with the powerful contractions of my spasming pussy.

A few moments later I was sighing with contentment, and we lay together savoring the afterglow. After a while I said softly, “Your turn. Tell me what you want.”

“Just do me,” Sandra said with quiet urgency.

I moved between her legs and kissed her there. My tongue parted her labia and I tasted her tart brine as I licked her erect clitoris. Sandra’s hands were on my neck, urging me closer against her.

“Oh, God,” she sighed. “Oh, yes … fuck me … just fuck me … fuck me good!”

I slid a finger into her, moving it back and forth. Then I rubbed the wet finger on her sensitive butthole. I did this over and over as my mouth worked it’s wicked magic. Sandra’s crotch was bucking against my face, and I could tell that she was about to climax.

Her legs clamped around my neck, and as her back arched, her body straining to come, I slid my well-lubricated finger right up the tight pucker of her rectum. She let out a banshee-like wail as the muscles of her asshole spasmed around my finger, and her vagina contracted over and over, squirting her tart, earthy juices onto my tongue. Her unabashed orgasm seemed to go on forever.

Then slowly her legs relaxed. She sighed, and her breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Oh my God!” she gasped. “I didn’t know — I never dreamed it could be — like this.”

Naked in each other’s arms we drifted into an exhausted sleep, and the next morning we made sweet love again. Let the men fish.

— Name and address withheld