The Beach House Weekend

The storm rolled in just as the last bag hit the floor. Mark and Susan stood in the wide-open beach house foyer, taking in the polished floors, ocean-facing windows, and the undeniable tension pulsing beneath every friendly smile.

“You and Susan have the master suite on the far side,” Tonya said with a hug that lingered just long enough to make Susan tilt her head. “Jeremy and I are just behind the living room. Nice and close.”

Mark grinned. “Ten years, huh?”

Tonya leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I think your wife could use some… attention.”

He raised his brow. “You’re still wicked.”

The sky darkened. The beach plan washed out with the thunder. Jeremy grabbed two beers and gestured toward the porch. “Let’s let the ladies catch up.”

By dusk, they’d unpacked, changed into lounging clothes, and started a movie. The four of them sat close on the oversized leather sectional, Tonya and Jeremy under a blanket. Blue light flickered from the TV, but nobody was watching.

Tonya’s hand slid across Jeremy’s chest, fingers playful. Under the blanket, her foot slipped between his thighs. Across the couch, Susan noticed—her lips parted, just slightly.

Jeremy’s breath hitched.

Susan leaned into Mark, her thigh touching his. He glanced down at her cleavage, rising and falling with her breath. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t hide the way her body responded to the low hum in the room.

Tonya whispered something in Jeremy’s ear, and his eyes flicked to Susan. Then to Mark.

The air cracked—not with thunder, but with something charged and unspoken.

Tonya tossed the blanket off with a stretch that showed too much thigh. Susan watched. Tonya caught her watching.

A pause.

Susan shifted, rising from the couch and walking slowly toward the kitchen under the pretense of grabbing another drink. Tonya followed. Once out of earshot, Tonya smirked.

“Still curious after all these years?”

Susan’s eyes flicked to the living room. “Still bold enough to make me wonder.”

The air between them sizzled.

Back in the living room, Jeremy and Mark exchanged a look that said what words wouldn’t.

Tonya returned and pressed play on the music instead of the movie. Something slow. Dirty. She moved to the rhythm as if it were second nature. Susan bit her lip.

“You ladies picking music or starting a show?” Mark teased, but his voice was thick with heat.

Tonya stepped forward, pulling Susan close, their bodies aligning like magnets. Susan didn’t hesitate. Her lips found Tonya’s neck first. A gasp escaped Tonya’s mouth.

Mark blinked. Jeremy stopped breathing.

Blouses came off. Skirts followed. The couch became a stage.

Susan pushed Tonya down and straddled her, kissing her hard while the men sat frozen. Then she turned and tugged her shorts down, slowly. Teasing.

“Your turn,” she said to Tonya, eyes daring.

The blonde stripped, revealing a body Susan had fantasized about for years. They kissed again—sloppier, hungrier.

Jeremy groaned. Mark reached down and adjusted himself.

Susan moved lower, her mouth finding Tonya’s breast, her tongue teasing a nipple until it peaked under her attention. Tonya moaned.

The girls took turns on each other’s bodies—touching, licking, tasting. Fingers slipped into panties. Tongues followed. The men watched, transfixed, hard, panting.

Then Susan turned to them. “You boys just gonna sit there?”

Jeremy stood, undressed in seconds. Mark followed, their cocks rock hard, eager.

The room blurred into moans and motion. Tonya rode Mark while Susan took Jeremy’s length, her mouth worshipping him until he growled her name. They swapped, twisted, pleasured and pressed.

Bodies tangled on the couch. The girls lined up, faces buried between thighs. Fingers gripped hair, legs quivered.

Mark took Tonya from behind as Jeremy pulled Susan into his lap, bouncing her on his cock.

The girls came first—loud and dripping. Then the men—shooting across bellies, breasts, flushed faces.

After, with sweat glistening and laughter low, Tonya whispered, “This beach house has never seen a storm like that.”

Susan smiled. “Let’s make sure it doesn’t forget us.”

Tonya was the first to stir again. Still bare, she stood and walked to the window, one hand on her hip, the other holding her wine glass. Rain streaked down the glass, lightning flashing over the surf. Her silhouette glowed under the stormy light—soft curves, wet lips, slick skin.

“Round two?” she asked casually.

Susan didn’t answer. She was already kneeling between Tonya’s legs, tongue teasing the inside of her thigh. Tonya gasped, her fingers sliding into Susan’s hair.

The men didn’t need an invitation.

Jeremy came up behind Susan, kneeling, his cock pressing against her ass while she devoured Tonya. He slid into her from behind, slow, thick, deep. Susan moaned against Tonya’s clit, the vibration sending shockwaves through the blonde’s core.

Mark moved to Tonya, lifting her onto the kitchen counter. He kissed her, hard, then bent to suck her breast, tongue swirling over her nipple. Tonya whimpered, her hands pulling him closer.

Susan came again, shuddering, Jeremy grunting behind her, his fingers digging into her hips.

Then Mark grabbed Tonya’s thighs and yanked her to the edge. His tongue replaced Susan’s, devouring her while Susan stood and kissed Tonya from above, their tongues slick with shared pleasure.

Jeremy moved behind Susan again, grabbing her hair and thrusting harder, faster. His other hand reached between her legs, stroking her clit as he fucked her to another orgasm.

Tonya came loud, her legs trembling. Mark stood, grabbed her hips, and slid into her in one smooth motion, fucking her hard against the countertop.

Susan watched, breathless. She walked to the side, crouched, and took Jeremy’s cock into her mouth, tasting herself as she sucked him deep.

Tonya moaned, hips slamming back into Mark. He grabbed her ass with both hands and pumped until he groaned and spilled inside her.

Jeremy pulled back, jerked himself until ropes of cum painted Susan’s lips and chin. She smiled, tongue flicking to taste him.

They were far from finished.

Morning sun cracked through the clouds. The storm had passed, but the memory of the night hung thick in the air.

Susan stretched, naked under the soft sheets, sore in the most delicious ways. Tonya stirred beside her. Mark and Jeremy were already up—coffee brewing, breakfast sizzling, grins shared over the kitchen island.

Tonya rolled over and kissed Susan’s shoulder. “You know we’re not going to be able to go back to normal after this.”

Susan smiled. “Good.”

They dressed slowly, every touch and glance weighted with memory. When the girls walked into the kitchen, both men paused to admire the glow on their flushed faces.

Jeremy passed Susan a mug. “Sleep well?”

“Like the dead. And the damned satisfied.”

Mark leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good. Because next time, I want you all to myself.”

Tonya laughed. “Better book the house for two weekends next time.”

The rest of the day was filled with easy laughter, subtle touches, and the warm comfort of secrets shared. The beach welcomed them at last—sandy toes, wind in their hair, salt on their lips.

But every now and then, one of them would catch another’s gaze… and the heat would return.

And everyone knew the beach house wasn’t done with them yet.

Not even close.