When you came across me moving in next door this afternoon, you were very neighborly: you introduced yourself, and invited me over later for a drink. I thought I saw you looking me up and down, but maybe I imagined it.

After getting all the boxes inside, and a shower, I show up on your porch. You have changed into a spankin' little dress, and greet me with a radiant smile, and a hug that is a little firmer and a little longer than expected. You introduce me to your husband, and we all sit down on your big couch.

You're filling me in on all the neighborhood gossip, and your husband is content to let you. At some point, you notice my eyes settle on an impressive shell that's on the table before us. "That's a souvenir from our trip to the Caymans. What a lovely beach. Eugene, show Danny the pictures."

Eugene reaches behind him to grab an iPad, fiddles for a moment, then hands it to me. While he's doing that, you move toward me on the couch so that you can see and narrate the photos. After you do, our sides are pressed together, and you're wearing another big smile.

As I swipe through the pictures, I see numerous shots of waves, sand, and palm trees that are in fact beautiful. After the first handful, they all have you in them, in an impossibly small bikini. When I compliment you on the suit, you turn your face toward mine, touch me near the top of my thigh awfully near my stiffening cock, and say "You know what they say, if you can pull it off . . . ." I didn't know until the next photo that this was a double entendre; it shows the top of that bikini floating in the surf and your newly freed gorgeous breasts. "Eugene, I think Danny likes my tits." This accompanied by stroking where your hand landed on my thigh.

The photos keep getting better: the next shows a very large man who is not Eugene behind you, with his arms wrapped around you as he fondles your boobs, your nipples thick between his fingers. In the next, you are doing your best to get your pretty mouth around as much of his mammoth cock as you can.

Your hand on my thigh drifts upwards, so that you're actually touching my cock--now throbbing--through my pants. "Eugene, I think I'm turning Danny on." Your eyes are sparkling, and you're wearing your biggest smile of the night--so far.

It is not easy, but I turn my head slightly to look past you, to give Eugene a very pointed look. After a moment, he gives a slight nod. It's on!

Obviously you don't need to make a special trip to the Caymans, but I'm looking for a couple where the wife would like to try her hand at being brazen, and the husband would like to see that. Are you them?