Bob and Phyllis had been friends of ours for years. We'd been a popular foursome in college--it was always Bill and Karen, Bob and "Phil" wherever we went.
We'd been neighbors, gone on vacations together and remained close after they moved to Seattle. Our kids had grown up together and two of them went to the same college in Colorado.
Recently Bob had a business convention here in Dallas--he brought Phil with him to make a mini-vacation out of it.
My wife Karen and I both work odd hours, so outside of seeing Phil for dinner one night, we didn't have any time to get together as couples until Friday when we met to grill some steaks and enjoy the wine Bob had brought to us from his parents vineyard.
We had a great time playing some cards, drinking wine and catching up on mutual friends, kids and jobs, but through it all there was a strong undercurrent of flirting and double entendres.
Nevertheless, as always, we kept ourselves in check and despite all the wine, behaved ourselves.
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It's not like we were college kids, but we still had a lot going for us, not only as four good friends who shared a continuity of life, but also as what I thought attractive individuals.
Bob was about my age but shorter and stocky. His hair was turning gray like mine and he still had a nice crop. He'd put on some weight but was basically in good shape.
His wife Phil had been a runner, I'd even run a few races with her but could never come close to keeping up. She ran marathons up until a few months ago when a knee injury temporarily curtailed her running career.
Phil's a petite woman with short blonde hair and an incredible body. I've always loved watching her bottom as she walked and thought it was neat that she could get away with not wearing a bra. It had always been obvious to me that she frequently went without one.
My Karen is a redhead. She's a busty woman and what you could call "chunky", but at the same time, not fat. She's firm and very strong. No doubt about it, she's attractive and carries herself well.
With no set plans, we slept in Saturday morning until ten, but finally dragged our hung over bodies downstairs for breakfast dressed in our usual bedtime garb.
Karen in her tee shirt and panties topped by her silk robe, and me in my old jeans and tee, we managed to make a pot of coffee, put out a pitcher of orange juice and pop some breakfast rolls in the oven.
Bob had beaten us downstairs was sitting at the kitchen table in gym shorts and a tee shirt reading the paper. He looked up and smiled. "I'm glad you showed up," he said in a fake snobbish voice, "I was getting hungry and wondered when breakfast would be served."
Karen still had a minor case of bed head and was holding her robe closed while she poured him coffee.
She gave him a dirty look and said "Breakfast... ugh! You're lucky you're getting ANY," but she managed a smile and ruffled his hair adding, "Good morning Bob."
I sat down across from Bob. Karen sat between us. After our first cups of coffee, we started to perk up a little and the conversation livened up.
Soon Phil came downstairs in PJ bottoms and a tank top with a robe over that and stumbled into the kitchen apologizing for how she looked.
I told her, "You look good to me Phil!"
"Damn Bill, I've been waiting years for you to tell me that," she said.
I noticed Bob looking at Karen's breasts. I had to laugh and said, "Bob, some things never change, you've been staring at Karen's boobs for years."
We continued to joke around a little and made another pot of coffee. Karen got up to putter around a little, setting out more juice and breakfast snacks.
Even for September, it was hot outside and the sun shining in to the kitchen warmed it up a lot which prompted Phil to take off her robe off saying, "It's too hot for a robe."
Her breasts were plainly visible through her tank top--they're not big, but perfectly shaped, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of them, it was my turn to stare.
