A Summer Vacation: A Wife-Swapping Novella Read Free

look that had to be playing out on his face.
     
    The fantasy had begun one night, long ago.
    When Steve had started dating Helena, Helena and Zahra were “roommates.” Roommates in the sense that Zahra's belongings were in an apartment that the two shared. Zahra was quite a party animal, Helena had explained. It was something Steve found peculiar, because she was Iranian, and he had always envisioned – foolishly, it turned out – an Iran of oppressed women with their heads covered.
    He had finally made this admission, one night when they had gotten a little stoned and were clustered around the very expensive table on the very expensive couch in Helena and Zahra's “shared” apartment – Zahra's mother was coming into town the next day, so she was pretending to live there again. Zahra and Reza both had snorted their drinks right of their noses and exchanged an amused look between themselves.
    Zahra took a hit from a hookah, which Reza had rigged to smoke pot out of, and blew the smoke sexily through her two plump lips as she rolled her eyes skyward. A very mysterious, naughty smile was on her lips. “No, dear Steve. No. Tehran, at least, is not like that.”
    Reza had leaned back on the couch with the same, smug-ish smile, and extended his arms over the back of it, one ankle crossed over his knee.
    Helena, innocently enough, had bubbled: “So what is it like, then?”
    Zahra brought a wine glass to her lips. “Well, I haven't been back in several years, of course.”
    Reza had a grin on his face.
    “What?” Helena had prodded them, sensing that they had some secret between them, which she always wanted in on.
    And it was Zahra who spoke, but for some reason Steve's eyes went to Reza as she did. Reza, whose face had turned, and whose eyes were zeroed in on Helena, remorselessly.
    “Did you know that in Iran,” Zahra purred like a cat, her voice low and sexy and her eyes suddenly alive with sensual mischief, “having a...what is it called...?” She turned her head slightly to Reza, who was still watching Helena, absorbing her reaction. Clearly, and obviously, getting off on the way Zahra's “secret” was affecting her.
    “Orgy,” he said, and the word unfolded sensually out his mouth. His eyes were still on Helena. Steve turned quickly to his then-girlfriend, and watched her mouth open slightly, and then color creep into her cheeks.
    But he was more interested in Reza. The way he was confidently leaning on the back of the couch, staring at Helena, undressing her with eyes, groping her visually as Zahra continued:
    “Ah yes, orgy. Having an orgy is like a...form of political protest in way. It's very common.”
    Helena stared, and then she broke out into laughter. “Oh god, I was almost believing you for a minute.”
    Zahra shrugged. “It's not a joke.” She took a sip of her wine, and now the same, sexually predatory expression had changed her own face, and she looked out over the rim of her glass at Steve. Her eyes were amused, inviting. Serious.
    Sexy as fuck. Anticipation had twisted in Steve's stomach. 
    Steve's eyes flapped almost helplessly between the two of them: Zahra staring at Steve, and Reza staring at Helena. Helena had taken the whole thing for a joke, but her laughter was dying down as the four of them looked at each other in silence.
    Helena turned her head from one person to another. “I...you're not... serious? ”
    Zahra shrugged again and gave Reza a smile. “What's not to be serious about?”
    Reza's eyes were still on Helena. He was now burning into her, and when she looked at him and met this intense stare, she quickly looked away.
    “But you didn't...” Helena half-whispered to Zahra.
    Zahra swished her wine in her glass, and folded her long legs under her. As she did, she flashed a bit of her black panties at the two of them, and she smiled wryly. She said nothing. Only smiled and raised her eyebrow slightly.
    Helena, it was clear, was squirming uncomfortably. Her mouth was