“Well Mr. Brackens—“ “Julian.” “Well Julian,” she addressed me with that southern twang, “you’ll never own me because I’m no one�...�s property but my own.” I smiled. It was a good answer. And the indignation inside that southern voice made my dick stir inside my pants. “Okay. So your name is Brenda, but what do they call you?” “Chocolate Peaches.” “How did you get that name, sweetheart?” She didn’t say a word. Instead, she stood up, turned around and lifted the little bit of skirt she was. As the hour got late, the hostess announced we should all go skinny dipping. It was a warm summer night with a full moon. There were around twenty people left. My wife and I started stripping. We jumped into the pool and there was a lot of groping and fooling around. There was soft music playing and my wife and I danced in the shallow end. We clung to each others naked bodies. One of the single men, a friend Tom, came up to us and asked if he could have a dance with my wife. I smiled and said. More

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