Your mom has a spa with bubble jets?

"Your mom has a spa with bubble jets?" Peggy said. "How about we meet at your place?"

One of the gifts that Joyce Bernstein's book Free to Masturbate had brought was enough money to put in a pool and spa and replace the back fence. For Joyce, a confirmed nudist at home, the backyard was more clothes-free domain, and the notoriety from having her book accepted as a sex education text gave her reasons to guard her personal space, if not actually her privacy. She was outspoken when discussing her book and her work with women's masturbation workshop leader. But Joyce had stayed private in one regard -- her own close-up masturbation photos in Free to Masturbate were left uncredited along with the other women and men used as models.

Bernie looked across the tub at Peggy Wise, Sandy's "older and wiser, ha ha!" big sister who had invited Sandy to the sex parties where Sandy had connected with Peter's mom and dad. Peggy was a blonde with sun-touched hair, frizzy toward the ends. Her skin was tanned red-gold, showing off some tattoo lines on her shoulders. Bernie had gone with Gary to the latest party, watching Peggy's husband Samuel bend over and present his ass to welcome the hard cocks of Peter's dad Jim, Peter himself, and Gary's dad Hank. Even more memorable for Bernie was renewing her love for analingus by licking out a vocally appreciative Sally Walker, Peter's mom. Peggy had been at the party too, but Bernie hadn't seen much of her.

"Yes," Peggy said. "The answer is yes. Hell yes, I love it. Samuel does me all the time. You want to? You could do me right here if you wanted." Peggy swiveled her head, looking round the backyard. She looked back at Bernie and laughed. "The fence is high enough."

Bernie's brown eyes looked into Peggy's blue ones.

"Not joking," Peggy said.

"Me neither," Bernie said.

Peggy turned round, knelt on the seat of the bubbling spa, and bent forward, presenting her wide pink buttocks, glistening wet.

"Batter up?" Peggy said.

Bernie leaned forward.

Peggy's anus was a broad pink star, deeply pleated, nestled between her heavy buttocks. Her labia were thick and loose, and with no pubic hair ("I wax," she'd said), they stood out prominently.

Pretty. Bernie thought of the other women whose anuses she'd gotten to know close up. With her eyes, her fingers, sometimes her lips and tongue. Habiba, Raquel, Sally Walker, her mother Joyce, a few women from Joyce's Pleasure Circles. And each was different, a different flower, a different star. Ticklish or responsive, tight-clenched or soft and accepting.

Bernie spread Peggy's buttocks and lowered her head.

"Oh yeah," Peggy sighed. "That's good. More."

Bernie took a deep breath and felt a flush of pleasure as she licked Peggy's anus.

"More, more," Peggy said.

Bernie licked harder. Responsive. Accepting. Salty and bitter inside.

"Ahhhh, oh yeah, more," Peggy urged. Her hips rocked gently up and down. "Oh. Oh."

When Habiba got like this, it was time to add some fingers.

Two was easy. Three was good.

"Yes. Push. Work 'em, yes!" Peggy said.

With her three fingers in a point, fucking hard and quick into Peggy's vagina, her tongue up Peggy's ass, Bernie brought Peggy to a growling, roaring, bucking climax.

Flushed and laughing, Peggy turned around. "Let's take this inside," she said. "And let's do this again sometime."

"Yes," Bernie said.