. we'd seen each other naked plenty of times at the games, but seeing the girls half-clothed somehow made it more erotic. To make things worse, Bret and Anne were noisy lovers, and when their climaxes came, the whole house knew about it. (Not that Maria and I were as quiet as mice, you understand.)The whole thing came to a head one night when Anne and I found ourselves in the kitchen at the same time, sharing a glass of wine. We had both been making love with our partners and we were in a state of post-coital bliss. As we stood up to say our good-nights, she tugged at the belt of my bathrobe and opened it, letting her own robe fall open, and we did a lingering full-frontal hug and good-night kiss. It was more tenderness than lust; after what we'd just been through, there wasn't much lust left in either of us. But this display of affection left my head spinning. This was a different Anne, a softer and more romantic Anne, from the one I'd humped so energetically and publicly at the Club. Alan swallowed. [That man is pretty hot,] he thought at her, hands shaking. [I think he was staring at my ass. I kind of like it.] The girl’s hard look suddenly softened. She tilted her head at him, considering. Then she gave him a slow, sly smile, and quite deliberately turned her back on him. Alan didn’t think he was imagining that she was sticking out her ass just a little more, swaying a little harder when she walked forward in line. Alan tapped his finger on the table, enjoying the view until she was buried in the line. [Perhaps it only works on women…?] he typed. He turned to look around, spotting an older woman, fifties, a little portly, walking with what might be her little granddaughter. As she walked by, he thought, [Man, that pizza smells good,] at her. [I could really go for some right now.] But unheeding of the food court, the woman walked on, smiling patiently as the little girl skipped and wove in front of her. Alan turned back to his netbook. [It could be, he wrote,.
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