“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kim was nervously flicking her finger back and forth over the buttons on the cuff of her shirtsleeve.

“You’re starting to sound like a high school kid waiting for her date.”

“That’s how I feel.”

Connie admitted that she felt that way herself. She looked at the wall clock — almost seven. She forced herself to stop pacing in front of the large sectional upon which Kim was nervously sitting.

She glanced at Kim and again marveled at the lust her young lover could inspire in her. Kim was wearing only the enormously oversized Arrow shirt. It was tailored for a man — a very big man. But it barely contained the richly rolling swells of Kim’s magnificent tits. The flash of her long, bare legs beneath it led her thoughts to dwell on what lay at their juncture and she felt her juices trickling in response.

“I feel kind of funny about doing this here, too,” Kim said.

“Not me,” Connie said happily. I’ve dreamed of this!” Impulsively, she bent and kissed Kimberly’s forehead, brushing one hand through the luxuriant mass of her rich hair.

“But won’t your husband mind?”

Connie took Kim’s face in both hands and kissed her softly on the lips. “I told you, honey — Jerry and I talked about this and he said the only way to find out is to try it out.” And with Jerry out of town for the night — he was addressing a seminar in Rochester — the timing couldn’t have been better. It was an experiment — the first time either of them had brought a lover to their home.

Both women tensed at the sound of the car pulling up outside. Connie straightened and stepped back. “Do I look okay?” She pirouetted for Kim.

“You look yummy.” And it was true. Connie was wearing a pair of designer jeans that molded themselves to her taut ass and trim legs. Her blouse was a pale blue, loose and simply cut and light in weight. And when she was standing sideways in front of a light, her firm breasts were clearly silhouetted in it.

Connie smiled at Kim, then went to the door. She opened it and beckoned to the woman standing at the base of the steps.

Emily smiled warmly and gracefully came up to the door.

“I hope I am not late!” she said in her breathy, softly accented voice.

“Not in the least.” Connie held the door for their guest and kissed her lightly on her cheek. Emily was wearing something with a light citrus scent. In one hand she held a Mark Cross briefcase; in the other was a matching tote bag that clanged softly of glass.

“Welcome to my home!”

“Hello!” Kim stood and bounced over to Emily. A flush was already rising in the lovely Oriental face. Kim bussed her on the cheek and the flush deepened.

“Let me take your coat?” Emily put down her burdens and let Connie help her out of the coat while Kim asked about the ride from New York. Emily was wearing a beautifully tailored skirt suit in a herringbone tweed and a white silk blouse with a bright red oversized scarf arranged at the neck. She was at once business-like and alluring. Connie had no doubt that Emily caused discomfort among her colleagues. With such attire, she could easily move from business bitch to sex goddess and back again with a shift in posture or expression.

“Shall we open some wine?” Emily asked, removing her jacket.

“Yes!” Connie chirped, closing the coat closet door behind her. The glasses and a corkscrew were waiting on the coffee table. Emily was putting three bottles of wine next to them.

Emily sat a foot away from Kim while Connie sat at the corner of the sectional, facing them, and began opening the first bottle of wine.

“I was so pleased at your invitation,” Emily said. “I had been hoping you would phone me.”

“We really wanted to get to know you better and thought this would be the perfect way,” Kim replied.

“We were delighted you could…come,” Connie added. She was the one who’d suggested Emily bring the wine. She’d told Emily that she would take care of the food herself. Not that Connie could cook worth a damn — she’d ordered a delivery of hot Italian food from a rather pricey establishment in Englewood. She poured wine into the three glasses.

“To new friends,” Connie said, raising her glass. The others followed suit, the gesture drawing Kim’s shirt tighter across her magnificent breasts and revealing one nipple already hugely swollen.

“May I take off my shoes?” Emily asked politely.

“Get comfortable,” Connie said enthusiastically.

“Yes, take off whatever you like — please!” Kim added, and then blushed furiously. Connie chuckled and Emily merely smiled happily.

The three chatted about their fields of employment — Connie could not bring herself to call what she had “a career” — and drank wine. They talked about plays, movies and ballets recently seen. And drank more wine. By the time Connie got the conversation around to the place where they’d first met — an adult toy store in Greenwich Village — they’d killed the first bottle of wine and Connie was opening the second.

“The wine is making me quite warm,” Emily announced, removing her jacket and the silk scarf, then unbuttoning the top two buttons of her silk blouse.

“Would you like to change into something more comfortable?” Connie asked. “One of my husband’s shirts might be quite comfortable.”

“I — “

Kim leaned over and put her face close to Emily’s. “Come on — get comfy. I feel like a slob dressed like this with you dressed like that. Besides, the food will be Italian and you don’t want to get tomato sauce on that lovely blouse.” She glided one hand up Emily’s arm to her shoulder and squeezed slightly. Connie watched the lovely Japanese woman’s blush deepen and saw her nipples hardening within the blouse and bra.

“If it would not be too much trouble — ?”

“No trouble at all.” Connie stood. “Come on.” She held her hands out the two women. They accepted her invitation and she led them toward the bedroom.

“You have a lovely home,” Emily said softly. “Beautifullyfurnished.” She was staring rather fixedly at the king-size waterbed. Next to it was the makeup case that contained what Kim had brought to the get-together: toys.

“Here.” Connie produced a pair of padded hangers for Emily’s career clothing.