Vicki nestled into their new seating arrangement smoothly, downing the remainder of her glass.  She might have had three drinks, maybe more.  She wasn't sure, but she resolved to maintain her poise despite the urge to force her desires on the lot of them right that moment.  No, as a good hostess, she had to gently guide them toward her desire, their desires.  She knew what they all wanted; there was no rush in getting there.<br/><br/>The hand went by faster than she had imagined, and soon it was Fred in George's hands.  Whether Fred was so eager to bare himself out of lust or humor, Vicki found the sight of his straining erection both intriguing and amusing.  His boner was nearly comical, so obtuse and wagging, but Vicki found herself hotly curious.  What would that smooth, flushed skin feel like in her own hand, in her mouth?  How full would make her feel?  How solid would it fit inside her?<br/><br/>She'd seen George stroke a cock many times but only his own.  The sight of George's hand wrapped around a different cock, one attached to her dear friend, seemed sexually surreal.  The look on Fred's face as her husband pumped his fist over the other man's erection made it clear he was enjoying George's attention.  His pleasured expression looked so vulnerable and surrendering to her, making her want to hear and see him orgasm.<br/><br/>Vicki laughed lightly at George's off-hand comment on the taste.  "Does it really?" she asked probingly.  "I might have to compare some time."