The eight of us grew up in the Bay Area. Over a span of four or five years we'd all become friends either through high school, college or just hanging out. Back then, there was a larger group some of whom we still kept in touch with, but the four couples got together often, sometimes just two couples and a few times each year all four couples. We shared many adventures, concerns and all had forged through a rough spot or two.
First there were common jobs in the financial, education and medical sectors. It was funny. All eight of us worked in one of these three fields so there were always debates and stories to share. The age at which we meet and our friendships formed also placed all eight of us within a similar age clump. The youngest and oldest were all within a five-year age span. Lastly, we all had kids. It's hard to think of a more unifying experience.
Carol and Dan were the first to jump through this wave. The rest of us thought they were crazy. Behind their backs we negatively shook our heads. When Carol gave birth to little Denise we were mesmerized. Just to hold this little bundle of joy was so special. She would soul search into your eyes. This experience deeply touched each of us. Eighteen months later, all of us were parents. Those eyes. Felix and Claudia were the last to join the circle. Naturally, they had twin boys. Fourteen years later, and they were still hyper as fuck, but good kids. Most of the time.
Diane and I were the third couple to join the circle, and afterwards we practiced mightily to yield two more children. Everyone else stopped the procreation at two, except for Dan and Carol who just had Denise. Once or twice a year, the four of us and their families would plan some group event and head off to explore. Each time a different family was in charge, and from the moment one walked out their door until they returned home there could be no complaining. But afterwards, often years afterwards, it was open for sure-fire teasing.
Gerry's small-town dude ranch extravaganza sounded fun in theory, but the fact that it was in rural high-desert Mexico and every single one of us endured days of uncontrollable water-like bowel movements had caught him holy hell. There were other awful trips, but his stood the mark of time as the worst. At least, so far.
Some of our adventures were pretty sweet. Learning to make cheese in an old winery thirty minutes outside Florence was hard to top. There were rafting trips, ski trips, big city trips and several beach trips. Diane and I had arranged our current adventure. Two large beach houses, about a quarter-mile apart, on the Oregon coast. Asides from the two houses, the nearest house was a few miles away. We'd rented the houses for a ten-day span, and had just topped off our eighth day.
Tomorrow, we set up for all the kids to be transported down to a private lodge for kayak lessons, fed and supervised by two of their grandparents (transported up for the two days). Most of the kids were now teenagers, and Denise was going into college soon. She had always been excellent at keeping the younger ones in line, even the twins, so with two grandparents tossed into the mix everyone felt comfortable.
For the adults, Diane had planned the day (I assisted minimally). A visit to a few wineries, followed up by unidentified dance lessons and then back to the house for an adult dinner party. After the winery visit, we'd decided the group would be split into four nonmatching groups and had thirty minutes to procure the best bottle of wine they could find and buy two of them. At dinner, the wine would be poured anonymously into carafes, then a blind tasting would take place. The partners who bought the bottle that received the highest votes would be rewarded with a professional massage. We'd found an outfit in Portland that provided us with two of their best masseuses, provided we pay their hefty price and for their travel time. We thought it was a worthwhile reward.
I feel asleep thinking of the fun we were likely to enjoy the following day and excited to get others reactions of the day's events. It was funny, but I think I actually smiled myself to sleep. When the alarm popped off at 6 am I sprung upwards, fully ready to hug the day as I knew its gifts would be special. My wife, didn't arouse with such a jump. "Diane! Do you want to really get the morning started right?" I asked her while delivering a shower of kisses to her temples.
"Please! Let me sleep a bit more. You know the kids are going to burst in any minute," she replied.
I was fortunate. Diane was special. She had this amazing brown hair, soft as falling snowflakes, but luxuriously stuffed full with curls. Her light tan eyes beautifully matched her hair. The sheets that covered her hid a blessed delight. Full breasts, set off with perfect chocolate long nipples, a thin waist and sexily muscled legs that always seemed to get noticed when she wore shorts or a bikini. But her best feature was her seemingly constant state of happiness, except for early mornings. If allowed to sleep past eight, she always awoke with a fat smile and the curiosity of a four-year-old. This tempered another side of her, she was extremely competitive and loved math. It wasn't surprising she'd gotten into finance, and was heavily sought after by others.
This was cool, but her career path didn't interest me. We were an odd couple. I played football and baseball in high school, got a ride and even drafted, but then the show ended. Fortunately, I was able to walk away with a teaching degree which some of my teammates did not manage. True, it was a teaching degree, but I also got to coach the high school baseball team while teaching geeks calculus. Yeah, Diane and I did share a love of numbers, it just was a very different love.
Despite my excitement, I crawled back into our bed and spooned up next to Diane. In the process, pressing my semi-hard feller into her luscious behind and started to kiss the baseline of her hair.
"Seriously, Jack?" she complained. "Is there ever a morning you aren't horny?"
"Mom, Dad aren't you going to go to the river with us? We are going to learn to kayak. Can we go right now?" our youngest screamed as the door flew open and two seconds later she dove between our bodies. Damned if Diane didn't have a sixth sense about our kiddos and coitus interrupticus.
"No sweetie, you're going with all the other kids. The adults are going wine tasting. Wouldn't you like to go with us instead?" I asked.
"No. Gross Dad!"
"Come here honey, give your Mom some kisses and draw flowers on my back please," Diane asked.
"Mom! I don't have time for that. I'm going to be a kayaker. Get dressed we have to go." And with those words she bolted off the bed and out the door.
"Think we have time for a quickie?" I asked while fondling my honey's full lobes.
"Seriously, Jack. This isn't one of your poems, reality. Do you think we'll have ten or even five minutes before one or more of our children are in here?" Diane asked.
"We could always pretend," I replied while pushing down her panties and my briefs so my cock suddenly sprang up against her nude bottom. She replied by rolling over, pulling up her panties and grabbing my cock with her hand.
