The woman in the peach sundress is still staring at David's half-hard cock. I watch her throat move when she swallows, the way her hand tightens on her husband's arm like she's steadying herself. Ted hasn't moved since he watched David come inside me — he's rooted to the sand, his linen shirt dark with sweat at the collar, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"Pull up a towel," I say.

She startles — a small flinch, like I've caught her doing something she shouldn't. For a second I think she'll run. Her hand leaves Ted's arm, and I see her fingers tremble as she reaches for the edge of the blanket. She doesn't run. She steps closer, her knees folding as she lowers herself onto the edge of our towel like she's been invited to a tea party.

The salt-rough hotel towel scratches against my thighs. I'm still bare, still wet with David's cum and my own release, and the evening air is warm and heavy against my skin. Ellen sits with her hands folded in her lap, her peach sundress bunched around her hips, and she looks at me like she's waiting for instructions.

Karen shifts on the sand beside me, her eyes moving between Ellen and me. Deb and Lisa trade looks. The air smells like salt and sex and sunscreen.

"You can touch him," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel. "If you want."

Ellen's breath catches. She looks at David — really looks at him, at the way he's lying back on the towel with his cock still half-hard and slick with all of us — and I see the want move through her like a wave she's not used to riding. Her husband is still standing. Still watching. His hands are shaking at his sides.

"Ted," she says, and it's not a question. It's a permission she's giving herself.

He doesn't answer. He just watches her hand reach out, watches her fingers close around David's cock, watches her lean in and take the head into her mouth like she's been thinking about it since the moment she stopped walking.

"Oh, God," David breathes, his head falling back against the towel. "Jodi, she's—"

"I see her," I say. "I see exactly what she's doing."

Ellen takes him deeper, her tongue tracing the same vein Karen found earlier, and Ted makes a sound like he's been punched.

"Ellen," he says, and his voice is strangled. "Ellen, what are you—"

She pulls off just long enough to answer, her lips slick and pink. "What I should have done years ago." Then she's back on him, taking him to the root, her throat working around him.

"Jesus," Karen breathes, and I can hear the grin in her voice. "Look at her go."

"She's got technique," Deb says from somewhere behind us. "You can tell she's been thinking about this."

"Hush," Lisa whispers. "Let her work."

Ellen works David slow and deliberate, like she's tasting something she's been denied for years. Her eyes are closed. Her free hand is pressed flat against the towel, fingers curling into the fabric. Ted hasn't moved from where he stands, but I see his hand go to his own belt, see him adjust himself through his linen pants.

"You like that, honey?" Ellen asks, pulling off just enough to speak. "You like watching your wife suck another man's cock?"

Ted's mouth opens and closes. "I—"

"Because I do," she says. "I like it. I like that you're watching."

David's eyes find mine over Ellen's head. There's something there — a question, or a permission — and I nod before I think about it. He pulls Ellen off his cock with a wet sound and guides her up the towel toward me.

"Jodi," he says, and that's all he has to say.

"Let her taste you," I say. "Let her taste what you left in me."

Ellen crawls up the towel on her hands and knees, and I see the mess I'm still carrying — David's cum cooling on my thighs, my own release smeared across my skin. She doesn't hesitate. She lowers her mouth to my thigh and licks a long, slow stripe through it, her tongue hot and sure, and I gasp.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe.

"She's thorough," Karen says approvingly. "I like that in a woman."

Ellen looks up at me, her lips shining. "You taste like him," she says. "And you taste like you. It's—" She shakes her head, like she can't find the word.

"Keep going," I tell her. "Don't stop."

Her tongue works its way up my thighs, cleaning the mess David left in me like it's the finest thing she's ever tasted. Her hands are on my hips, steady, and when she reaches my cunt I feel her mouth close over me — soft at first, then firmer, her tongue finding my clit with a certainty that makes my back arch.

"Oh," I hear myself say, and it comes out thin and surprised.

"You like that?" Ellen asks, her voice muffled against me. "You like a woman's mouth on you?"

"Yes," I gasp. "God, yes."

She hums against me and I feel it in my bones. Her tongue is flat and warm, circling slow, and she looks up at me through her lashes with her mouth still on me. She's watching me watch her. She's waiting to see what I'll do.

"You've done this before," I say. It's not a question.

"Not in twenty years," she says against my thigh. "But I remember."

I reach down and thread my fingers through her silver-streaked hair. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch, and I feel the shift — the moment she stops performing and starts wanting.

"Come here," I say, and I pull her up the towel, positioning her over my face. Her sundress is already bunched around her waist. She's not wearing anything under it.

"Is this—" she starts, and I can feel her hesitation in the way her thighs tense.

"Yes," I say. "Sit on my face, Ellen."

She settles over me with a soft moan, her thighs bracketing my head, and I can smell her — salt and heat and something sweet. She's wet. She's been wet since she sat down on this towel.

"Oh, God," she whispers. "I can't believe I'm—"

I pull her down to my mouth and she gasps. Her clit is swollen and slick, and I take it between my lips and suck, gentle at first, then harder when she rocks against me. She tastes like the ocean and like a woman who hasn't been touched like this in years.

"Ted," she calls out, her voice breaking. "Ted, she's—"

Behind us, I hear Ted move. I hear the rustle of his linen shirt, the sound of his belt. When I glance up past Ellen's thighs, I see him kneeling behind his wife, his hands on her hips, his cock out and hard.

"Is this—" he starts, and his voice cracks.

Ellen reaches back and grabs his hip. "Yes," she says. "Fuck me, Ted. Fuck me while she eats my cunt."

"Jesus, Ellen," he breathes, and I hear the awe in his voice. "I've never—"

"I know," she says. "I know. Just do it."

I feel him push into her, feel the way her body takes him, and she cries out against my thigh. Her hips start to move, riding his cock and grinding against my mouth at the same time, and I hold her open and lick her through it.

"That's it," Karen says, her voice low and approving. "That's it, sweetheart. Take it."

"She's riding him," Deb whispers. "Look at her. She's riding him and grinding on Jodi's face at the same time."

"I want that," Lisa says, and her voice is thick. "God, I want that."

Karen has moved closer. I can feel her watching, feel her hand on David's thigh. "You're doing so good, Ellen," she says. "You're doing so good for us."

Ellen whimpers. "Don't stop," she begs. "Don't either of you stop."

Ted's hands tighten on her hips. "I'm not stopping," he grunts. "I'm never stopping."

"Good," she gasps. "That's good. That's so good."

I keep my mouth on her, my tongue flat and steady on her clit, and I feel her clench around my face when she comes.

She cries out, a raw, broken sound, and her hips buck against my mouth. Ted is fucking her through it, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, and I hear him grunt when she clenches around him.

I don't stop. I keep licking her through the aftershocks, keep my tongue soft and slow until she pushes my head away, oversensitive and shaking.

She collapses onto the towel beside me, her chest heaving, her sundress twisted around her waist. Ted is still inside her, still moving, and she reaches back and grabs his ass.

"Don't you dare stop," she says.

He doesn't. He fucks her harder, faster, and I watch his face — the strain in it, the way his eyes keep finding his wife's face, the way he looks at her like he's never seen her before. He's close. I can see it in the way his rhythm breaks, in the way his hands tighten on her hips.

Ellen looks at me, her eyes dark and satisfied. "Thank you," she says, and it sounds like she means it.

I smile at her and reach for David. He's watching me with dark, hungry eyes, his cock hard again, and I wrap my hand around him and stroke slow.

"You want to watch me ride him?" I ask Ellen.

She nods, her mouth open, and I swing my leg over David's hips and sink down onto him in one slow, slick motion. He groans, his hands finding my waist, and I ride him slow and deep, letting Ellen watch the way I take him, the way I make him feel.

Karen moves closer. Lisa is touching herself openly now, her head thrown back. Deb is watching Ellen and Ted, watching the way Ted fucks his wife while she watches me fuck mine.

It's a circle. It's a wheel. And I'm at the center of it, riding my husband while a stranger's wife watches and a stranger's husband fucks her from behind.

David's hands are on my hips, guiding me, and I feel the familiar heat building low in my belly. I lean forward and kiss him, deep and slow, and I taste Ellen on his lips and myself on hers.

"I'm close," I breathe against his mouth.

"Then come," he says. "Come on my cock."

I do. I come with my face buried in his neck, my cunt clenching around him, and I feel him come inside me a second later, feel him pulse and fill me. I ride him through it, slow and deliberate, until we're both shaking and spent.

Ellen is watching us. Her husband is still inside her, still moving, and she's looking at me with something like wonder in her eyes.

I slide off David and lie back on the towel, my thighs slick with both of us. Ellen reaches out and touches my hip, a light, tentative touch.

"Can I—" she starts, and I know what she's asking.

I nod. She lowers her mouth to my thighs and cleans me up again, slow and thorough, and this time I let her. This time I watch her do it, watch the way her tongue traces the mess David left, and I feel something shift in the air between us.

When she's done, she sits up and looks at me. Her chin is slick with me. Her eyes are bright.

"I've never done anything like this," she says, and her voice is quiet, almost shy.

"Neither have I," I say, and it's true — not the sex, but this. This feeling of being seen by a stranger, of being wanted by someone who doesn't know my name.

David reaches for me, his hand finding mine, and I let him pull me close. Karen is laughing about something. Deb and Lisa are making plans for tomorrow. Ted is still kneeling in the sand, his head bowed, his hands shaking.

Ellen stands up, adjusts her sundress, and looks down at her husband. "Ted," she says, and her voice is different now — softer, steadier. "Help me up."

He takes her hand and she pulls him to his feet. They stand there for a moment, two strangers on a beach, changed by what just happened.

"Thank you," Ellen says, looking back at me. "For the towel."

I laugh — a real laugh, surprised out of me. "Anytime."

She smiles, and then she and Ted walk away down the beach, their hands twined together, their steps slow and deliberate.

I lie back on the towel and let the evening air cool my skin. David's hand is on my thigh, tracing lazy circles. Karen is sprawled on her back, staring at the darkening sky.

"Same time tomorrow?" she asks.

I think about Ellen's mouth on me, about Ted's shaking hands, about the way the stranger watched me like I was the only thing on the beach.

"Bring the cooler," I say.