Lying on the other twin bed in the same room, illuminated by the lamp on the night table, I listened to the woman's cries of ecstasy and wondered how I'd gotten into this situation. The woman was my wife.
I could understand why Fred Nelson had become involved. The woman lying like a log under me was Lydia, his wife. My cock was buried in her-not quite buried, actually-about three inches short of complete interment, leaving my balls dangling in space. A hysterectomy had shortened her vaginal barrel and her cunt was as dry as a gopher hole.
This was our first swap party. The rules required that couples attending for the first time must occupy the same bedroom with the partners which chance had assigned them. Pairing this night had been, decided by the old-fashioned parlor game of 'Spin the Bottle,' with the women in a small circle, and the men taking turns in the center whirling an empty Coke. Unlike the game played by teen-agers of the dead days of the past, the payoff was not a kiss. And you crapped out, losing your turn, if the mouth of the bottle pointed to your wife. I never had my turn at the bottle, ending up with Lydia. The party would have been a complete fiasco for me-Lydia had no interest in intercourse-except for the fact that she had proved herself the world's most accomplished expert in the art of fellatio.
Oh, I had thoroughly enjoyed her performance; turning like a pig on a barbecue spit under the heat of her lingual and labial ministrations. Delightful though it had been, plunging off the orgasmic heights to which her expertise had raised me, dropping like a mountain torrent with unremembered cries of joy, spilling myself into her yawning oral chasm, the experience should have been offered as a prelude to, and not the major part of an evening's sexual enjoyment. Now, as I lay pumping my thick prick wearily into this dry hole with short, tender strokes, I glanced over at Janice, my wife, in the next bed. Her blonde hair lay spread like pale gold threads on the pillow, her breasts flattened under a hairy chest, tapered legs hooked over hirsute thighs. Her precious buttocks were rotating to another man's sexual rhythm. Goddamn it! I wouldn't trade one of her little fingers for the five other women in the house-well, I have to be honest-except, maybe, Helen Conrad. But that's how I got into this situation, come to think about it.
Helen Conrad was a young, busy artist's model with shoulder-length red hair and emerald green eyes. Janice and I had met her last Wednesday night at a dinner dance at the Lakewood Country Club in the north shore suburb of Chicago. Don Ashby had invited us to meet some interesting friends of his, and had brought Helen as his date that night. I've known Don for seven years, ever since I started as a copy writer at the advertising agency of Warren, Wills, and Compton, upon graduation from Illinois with a lambskin from the College of Arts. Don had been head of the art department, but had left a few months after my arrival to open his own studio. Within two years, he had become the most successful commercial artist in the area.
After four years in copy, I had become an account executive with WWC, and had come to know Don quite well. Last Wednesday, Don happened to be leaving our office at the same time I was, on my way to meet Janice at the London House for lunch. Although we had been married four years, Don had never met my wife, so I asked him to join us. I should have known, the way the sparks flew when they met, that there might be a bonfire lighted that could burn down the city again.
Jan had been fascinated by Don's virility and his thin, handsome face, topped by a bush mop of black curly hair and bottomed by a beard, trimmed to a sharp point two inches below his jaw line. I watched her eyes brighten in response to his light banter and occasional sallies into serious conversation on a wide range of topics, on each of which he was widely read. In addition, he had demonstrated the mysterious balance of poise and judgment that intrigues every woman-the ability of an attractive man to maintain his bachelor status into his thirty-sixth year.
With growing uneasiness, I noted the sharpened look of the hunter light his black eyes as his overly casual glance returned to scan Jan's face, with its wide-spaced blue eyes under full bangs, its slender delicate nose, and sensual lips. I was not surprised then, when he turned to me suddenly as we were prepared to leave.
"Jim, I never thought you were so selfish."
"Why do you say that?" "Keeping this lovely bloom away from all eyes." He looked intently at Jan. "Honey, don't let this meanie talk you out of it. I want you both to come as my guests to a dinner dance at the Lakewood Country Club tonight. I want you to meet a circle of my intimate friends. What do you say?" He reached out to trail long delicate fingers down her jaw line. "My God! You're beautiful!"
Her slight involuntary shiver at his touch evoked a cautious and noncommittal, "Well..." Catching the plea in Jan's eye, I added, "It's up to Jan."
He rose, smiling. "Fine. It's all set then. See you at the Club at eight."
There were nine couples at our table at the dinner dance that night, and our host was not Don, but Milton Hubbard, owner of Hubbard Ware, Inc., manufacturers of a line of cook and kitchen utensils. Milt was a barrel-chested man of medium height, with gray hair, although he was no more than forty-five. His wife, Rose, was half a head taller than he, a blue-eyed brunette, regal and aloof, in her mid-thirties. Aside from the Hubbards, whose presence impressed me because of the business potential in the company's substantial advertising budget, I scarcely took note of anyone else at our table. Whoever had arranged the seating had seen to it that Janice was paired with Don. I was paired with Helen Conrad, Don's date for the night.
Seated next to me, wearing a pink dress with a high waist and a deep vee that bared her navel, she shattered my usual poise with frequent view of the creamy slopes of large, firm, unfettered breasts. From the moment I leaned over to help her seat herself at table, the sight of that flow of velvet flesh had blotted out all my concern over Jan's reaction to the suave attention Don was lavishing on her. Although I danced with other women, I could remember only the warm and cuddly Helen in my arms, the gentle slope of her ungirdled buttocks, and the soft yield of her thigh to the pressure of cock flesh roused to life by her intimate nearness. Twice, at the finish of a dance, escorting her back to our table I had stayed close behind her, careful to conceal from view the revealing bulge in the left leg of my trousers until I had managed to slide into my chair, hopefully unobserved. At the end of the last dance, I had slid my hand down over her buttocks, and felt a responsive contraction in her thigh as I throbbed the bulging head of my hardened prick against her.
"I want to see more of you," I whispered close to her ear.
"If you're lucky in the draw, you will. Damn, I hope so." Her eyes sparkled an enigmatic answer to my query about the 'draw.' Driving home that night, Jan cuddled close to me, her hand in my crotch, her lips occasionally nibbling at my ear. "Darling," she murmured, her hand slipping inside my unzipped trousers to palpate my genitals, "if you're not too tired when we get home, may I have him?" She leaned down and planted a wet kiss on the crown of my cock.
"Do that again, honey, and there won't be anything left of him by the time we get home."
But there was plenty of him left. I can't remember when I'd had a stiffer hard-on. I gentled his bulging head into her. Even after four years of intercourse at least once each night, except for the recurrent cyclic pause, she still had difficulty receiving his huge head. For over an hour we lay, locked and lost and loving, the smooth pattern of our rhythm slowed momentarily from time to time to quiet the rising storm, then starting afresh to sense the heightening gale within. Not until we had reached the topmost peak and the furies broke, did I realize that the woman thrashing out our mutual delirious joy was not the busty Helen, but my lovely wife, Jan. As I fell asleep, I finally found the quietus for the nagging sense of guilt I felt-in Jan's impassioned love-making, I had, perhaps, filled in for the new romantic lead who had entered her life this day, the bearded, compelling Don Ashby.
I was not surprised to receive an invitation from Don to lunch with him the next day. I was shocked, however, to learn that the dinner invitation of the preceding night had been extended by the members of a secret cabal, dedicated to wife swapping among themselves, that Jan and I, and three other couples had been invited in order that the five remaining ones could choose a new member replacement. The group, Don informed me, was limited to six couples; with the recent transfer of the Dave Johnsons to Cleveland, an opening had occurred. Don was delighted to advise us that the members had unanimously chosen Jan and me over the three other couples present last night, neither of whom, he hastened to assure me, were aware of the true reason for their invitation. I shut him off with a scornful wave of my hand, told him I'd be damned if I'd ever knowingly share my wife with any man.
"Jim," he said, "for Chrissake, Victoria died in nineteen-one. Besides," he added, lips curled in a taunting smile, "at least ask Jan if she's interested. Helen Conrad told me to be sure to tell you she's hopeful she gets you on the first draw."
I couldn't help it. I had to ask. "Is she a member?"
He chuckled. "Hell, she hasn't missed a meeting in the last year ... I have to run, Jim. You talk to Jan tonight. I'll give you a ring tomorrow." \ I'd talk to Jan, all right. I'd tell her all about it. I'd tell her I'd be goddamned if I'd ever allow my wife to pile into bed with any sonofabitch that drew her name out of a bowl. And that's for damn sure!
Helen Conrad. Helen. Mmm!
"Mmm! Oh, Fred! Oh, darling!"
Damn you, hurry up and get it over with. My finger is bigger and better and stiffer than... Your wife's talent must pay the way for both of you in the group. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. She must practice swallowing lengths of baloney to be able to handle a cock the size of Jim's. Damn you, Fred, hurry up.
Neither Jim nor I had spoken much on the long drive up to Lakewood tonight. Occasionally his hand had dropped off the wheel to clasp mine nervously. Once, as we entered the village limits, he had slowed the car to fifteen miles an hour, looking at me with the eyes of a troubled child. "Jan, honey, I don't know about this." His lower lip trembled. "What can either one of us get out of this that's as good as what we already have?"
A good question, I thought, yes, indeed. I had everything in Jim that a girl could ever want, a big, handsome husband, a money-maker, intelligent, well-read, a lover of prodigious talent with over-sized equipment. A lover, ah, yes! I remembered my first date with Jim, four years ago. Fresh out of Northwestern School of Journalism, twenty years of age, worldly-wise, or so I thought, I had sat across the candle-lit table in the small care on Rush Street, my skin prickling in response to the male animality of this husky blond. His large gray eyes sparkled with amusement at my lightest quip, his most casual glance emitted a warm caress. I had firmly resolved to ward off the slightest attempt at physical intimacy-no easy lay for him tonight. I wanted desperately to see him again. A goodnight kiss on the doorstep, I cautioned myself, quick and fleeting. Have your door key ready ... I had a lovely evening, Jim. Good night.
I did have my door key in my hand. I did say, or started to say, good night, but somehow his open lips swallowed the word, and his tongue was in my mouth, and I felt the warm stiffness of it, and the strength of his arms lifting me off my feet, the incredibly huge outline of his cock throbbing between my legs, and I was already wet with wanting.
In the bedroom, I had to restrain my impatience as he slowly undressed me. For God's sake, I thought, tear the clothes off me. Get naked yourself, quick. Let me see that thing of yours. I lay nude on the bed sheet, mentally screaming as he deliberately undressed. He stood beside me, his glance going over my stretch of nakedness, his tongue wetting his lips as his gaze lingered on my breasts and the fuzzy mound of gold, silky hair. Hurry, I thought, my moist palms stroking my breasts, cupping them up to speed his undressing. At most he took but a few minutes, though it seemed like hours, before he folded his trousers over a chair, his back to me as he slipped off his shorts.
The muscles of his back and firm buttocks rippled, rousing me to further heights of expectancy. But nothing I had imagined had prepared me for the shocking sight of his enormous cock when he turned to face me. Rising at an angle from a tangled growth of blond hair, the veined shaft of it thicker than my wrist, the pink, satiny head swollen to the size of my fist, his prick jutted out about inches, throbbing with pride, a tear drop glistening at the tip. His brown, wrinkled testicles hung below his crotch like a small coconut.
My mouth dropped open with fright. "Oh God! That'll split me in two."
He leaned over and kissed me lightly. "It'll be all right, darling. You'll see." He disappeared into the bathroom, while I lay trembling, returning a minute later with a jar of cleansing cream in his hand. "I couldn't find any Vaseline."
Setting the jar on the night table, he lay down beside me. His lips were as light as butterflies brushing my lips, cheeks, ears and throat, fluttering down over my breasts, his tongue wetly circling my nipples, his mouth suckling like a hungry child. Several times, roused to dizzy heights of wanting him, about to cry out for him to enter me, his hardened flesh would touch my thigh, sending a wave of chilling fear all though me. Sensing his lips nuzzling across my belly, down into the delta mound above my crotch, and nosing into the wetness of my pussy, I squirmed with delight.
He's going to eat it, I thought happily. I had never experienced that before. If he does, I won't have to take that horrible monster inside of me. But the sight of the jar of cold cream sent a new chill through me. His lips moved up my belly, my breasts, my throat, closed over my mouth, as he rolled over on me. I felt his left hand reach out to the night stand.
"No, Jim. I can't. You'll hurt me."
"I'll be gentle, darling. You'll love it." Straddling me, he knelt, uncapping the jar, and rubbed the length of his shaft with cream, spreading the crown of it thickly.
The sight of it close up was even more frightening. I started to cry, closing my eyes to shut out the awesome thing. I felt his fingers massaging both sides of my slit, creaming the already soaking lips, then his knees between my legs, forcing my thighs apart. The massive head of it, as big and stiff as the business end of a baseball bat, was forcing itself between my cunt lips. Opening my eyes, I whispered, "Jim, please, I want it but I'm afraid. Promise you won't force it. Promise you'll stop if the pain is too much."
His gray eyes were inches from mine. "I promise, darling."
I felt his forearm on my belly as he guided the head of his cock, gentling it, pressuring it against the opening. "Relax, sweet. Lift up your ass. Spread, wider."
I gasped as the head of it entered, finally. "Oh! Oh, God!" It felt like a log was jammed into me. "Oh, Jim. I can't. I can't."
He remained motionless. "Easy, darling, easy. The worst is over. Don't move. Just relax."
We lay for minutes, unmoving, the pain and shock subsiding, the fullness of him filling me with warmth and longing, the depths of me crying, clutching at this intruder to pull him into me. I raised my buttocks slightly, tentatively, felt the bulging head of his cock pressing out the walls of my vagina, filling, swelling with a throbbing fullness touching ever nerve cell. I felt his scrotal sac come to rest on my rectum. "Oh, Jim! Darling! Oh, I love it! Don't ever take him out."
I had never, never experienced anything like the delirious delight of fullness, of complete and ultimate orgasmic joy. I don't know how Jim could hold a rein on himself through two hours of continuous, ecstatic intercourse, with my orgasms falling like shooting stars, one after another, until he matched me at last with great lunging thrusts that poured a torrent of his hot semen into my depths. I awakened him at dawn, kissing his sleepy prick into wakefulness.
This is the man I married two months later. This is the man who has filled my every sexual need for the last four years. What more, indeed, could any man offer? I became aware that the car was parked at the roadside.
"Well, darling, shall we go home?" Jim was asking. "I don't know. I think ..." I thought of the man with the black curly hair, and the pointed chin whiskers. I thought of his full lips, and the pink tip of his tongue as he wet his lips in what I was sure was a meaningful promise of erotic delight. And I thought of the one sexual thrill I had never experienced-cunnilingus. He could have but one reason for the growth of that pointed beard-my rectum twitched at the thought. I looked down at the party dress I had bought for this night, a pink eyelet embroidery dress, with that 'little girl' look belied with the see-through view of budded nipples beneath a filmy nylon slip.
"I think, darling, there are some nice people in the group. That Helen Conrad was nice ... after all, we're both mature, well-adjusted. We could try it once, and ..."
"Yes," he said, shifting into gear, "she seemed like a very nice person. Okay, dear, we'll try it once."
Two stone pillars loomed up in the headlights and we turned in. The macadam pavement wound through dense oak woods and underbrush. I could hear the splash of waves and smell the humid night scent of the lake. The driveway dipped into a low spot, then climbed sharply up a hill to circle before the flood-lighted house, a rambling, one-story structure of stone, glass, and cream-colored brick.
Our hosts, Rose and Milt Hubbard, greeted us on the veranda, Rose cool and queenly in a white chiffon dress with Empire waist, Milt bluff and cordial, dressed comfortably in gray slacks and yellow turtle-neck sweater.
"You look lovely, my dear," he said, escorting me down a wide corridor The walls were lined on either side with fine paintings. An antique mahogany chest stood against one wall, with a framed mirror hanging above it. The silver backing was tarnished and peeling. I glanced into the large living room on my left, noting the tasteful combination of antique and modern furniture.
"You must be a collector, Milt."
"Yes," he said with a chuckle. "Getting a bit ancient myself." He squeezed the flesh of my arm, managing to touch my breast with the back of his fingers. "That's why I enjoy so much seeing you lovely young people joining our group. I hope you and Jim will enjoy our fun and games." Opening a glass door, he said, "Out here, Jan, everybody's on the veranda." Jim and Rose were directly behind us.
"All right, everybody," Milt called out, "you all know Jan and Jim. Let's give them a big welcome to our group."
As Jim and I moved among them, I looked each of them over with a fresh eye. We had met them all at the dinner dance, of course, but neither of us had known at the time about the swap group, nor, on learning the following day of the purpose, did we have any idea of the membership, except for Rose and Milt Hubbard, and Don Ashby and Helen Conrad. So these are the couples we had agreed to meet for sex games. As we were re-introduced to each of them, I studied them carefully, the men as possible bed-partners for me, the women as potential receptacles of Jim's formidable tool. Fred Nelson was a tall, skinny fellow, with black hair and dark eyes in a thin, sallow face-not my choice on this or any other night for any kind of games. His wife, also in her mid-thirties, was tall and slim, with brown hair and hazel eyes, and small breasts emphasized by her tight-fitting white pique dress.
Paul and Marg Lefler, in their early thirties, looked interesting, especially Paul, a bit under six feet, well-built, his short blond hair and merry eyes giving him the look of a teen-ager. Marg was a short, well-shaped woman with black hair and dark eyes, and a very pleasant smile. And last, the Hagens, Joe, a slightly-built man, no taller than I, with a thin black mustache, a cocky attitude, and hooded dark eyes. Alicia, his wife, was short, with a small, though well-proportioned figure. Her blond hair was streaked with black at the roots With her small frame, I thought, she'd never handle my Jim in bed, but as I turned to greet Don and Helen, I caught a glimpse of Joe's tight slacks and the bulge in his left pant leg. That little guy might be an interesting companion-he looked every bit the equal of any man in that department.
Don and Helen greeted us warmly. A stereo was playing a slow fox trot and I stepped into Don's opened arms.
"I'm glad you came, Jan."
"I don't know," I replied, my palms breaking out in sweat. "I'm frightfully nervous." I felt his hand pat my rump reassuringly, then linger to trace the down slope of my buttocks. "You have the most beautiful ass I've ever had my hand on," he whispered into my ear. The tip of his chin whiskers feathered on my throat, sending shivers all through me. "Hope I'm lucky in the draw."
"How do they choose ... I mean ..."
"You'll see." He laughed, and tightened his arm around me. "The host decides what game of chance is used-rolling dice, high card and low card ..."
"You mean... it hasn't already been decided?"
"Strictly by the rules, honey. No fix, no stacked deck."
"But the dance," I said, tension building within me ... suppose I ended up with ... suppose I didn't end up with Don! "Certainly you fixed that, seating me next to you."
"That was different." He chuckled. "I had to make sure Jim would bring you into the group, so I baited him with Helen." We both glanced at Jim and Helen, dancing over in a corner like puppets, glued together at the pubic line. "It worked," he said with a smile.
"Yes," I muttered, the evening beginning to sour.
"We'd better have a drink." Don led me to a table with bottles of Scotch and bourbon, a silver pitcher of martinis, glasses, and a large bowl of ice. I indicated my choice, and Don poured two martinis, offering me one. "Drink up," he said. "Another inviolable rule of the club-a limit of two drinks before games start, none after."
"Suppose," I said, with a hollow laugh, "suppose you get stuck with a party pooper. You can't drink away your frustration?"
He kissed me on the forehead, his whiskers tickling my nose. "I can guarantee you there are none of those in this group-no, I can't either. I can only speak for the women."
"Don, I specialize in breaking up monopolies."
I turned to face Joe Hagen.
"May I have this dance, honey?"
His right arm went around the small of my back, and as he turned his back on Don, his hand slid down over my buttocks, working his fingers over them possessively. "I feel lucky tonight, baby."
His breath was heavy with the smell of liquor. "Don't they have a rule about a limit on drinks? " "Sure." He leaned back to look into my face, forcing his stiffening cock into my thigh. "I always have an extra one or two before I arrive. I never break the rule. My love life thrives on booze."
Good Lord! I thought, the damned thing is nearly down to my knee!
"Okay, everybody," Milt cried. "Ten o'clock. Bar's closed. Gather around." He waited a few moments. "We're delighted to have the Rydens join up with us. Since this is their first night with us, bear with me while I explain our few simple rules: first, a limit of two drinks before the games start; second, partners are matched by any legitimate game of chance-the choice of such at the discretion of the evening's host; third, no liaisons between members outside our regular meetings; and last, any new couple joining our group must share the same bedroom with their partners of the night... this on the first night only.
I staggered back against the man standing behind me. It was Jim. "Oh, Christ, no! No, no," he muttered. I felt his hands grip my biceps.
"Milt," he said, his voice edgy with anger, "why the hell didn't someone tell us this before. I can't..."
"Jim, honey, please listen. We've all been through it." Helen's voice cooed softly. She moved over to put her arm around him, whispered in his ear. Her words and her touch seemed to calm Jim, for he chuckled and relaxed his grip on my arms. At the same instant, I felt fingers under my dress sliding up the inside of my thighs, and a feathery touch on the back of my neck as a voice sighed in my ear. "Darling, don't let him back out now. I want to love this." His thumb pressed up into my slit to emphasize the object of his desire. My buttocks clamped together with an involuntary shiver.
"Wait!" Milt Hubbard said, his hands raised for quiet, an uncertain smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, Jim, but this is one of our inviolable rules, and with good reason. No, no." He waved his hand to silence Jim's incipient reply. "Hear me out now. One needn't be a philosopher nor a psychologist to realize that swapping is a complete break with the moral shibboleths of the past." He glanced slowly at every individual present, waiting for each one's acquiescent nod. "Therefore, we believe it necessary that every couple newly introduced to our group must abide by this rule to signify their mutual willingness to break with the past." He looked first at Jim, then at me. "Jim? Jan?"
In the expectant hush, Helen's sibilant whisper could be heard. "Say yes, Jim, yes, please."
After a moment, Jim replied softly. "Well, it's up to Jan. Whatever she says."
All eyes, except Don's, turned to me. I felt the light touch of his whiskers on the back of my neck, sending prickles of delightful shivers all through me. "All right," I whispered.
The process of pairing didn't take long. I stood in the small circle of women, clasping my hands nervously while the men chose slips of paper from Milt s hand, each slip containing a number from one to six, the numerical sequence indicating each man's turn to spin a Coke bottle. I found myself hoping that Don wouldn't pair up with me. Not tonight. I couldn't imagine myself enjoying my first experience of cunnilingus in the inhibiting presence of my husband. I wanted to be alone with Don when I did-to feel free to throw my legs up in the air, to spread the crack of my ass, feel the maddening tickle of his whiskers around my rectum as he buried his nose in my cunt.
I needn't have worried. Don drew the slip with the number one, and his spin of the Coke bottle paired him with Rose Hubbard. Joseph Hagen drew number two. I was amused to note the sour smile on Jim's face when Joe paired up with Helen Conrad. He turned his face away in anger as Helen snuggled into Joe's arms, wriggling her buttocks; his horse-cock had evidently filled her to satisfaction before. Fred Nelson was next, and, as I found later to my disgruntlement, unhappily paired with me. After Paul Lefler had paired with Alicia Hagen and Milt Hubbard with Marg Lefler, Jim was left with Lydia Nelson.
The Hubbards' home was spacious, with five bedrooms, four baths, and a convertible sofa in the den. Since Jim and I were new to the group, we were assigned the master bedroom suite to share with our partners. After what seemed like an interminable time, I managed to achieve a minor orgasm, more the result of sheer will on my part than the consequence of the inexpert diddling of my partner, whom I had by this time come to think of as "pimple-prick Freddie."
Although Milt had announced earlier that breakfast would be served at three in the morning, Jim and I managed to shower and dress, and be on our way by two. We both sat glumly silent on the long ride home.
With the bedroom lights on, I stood before the mirror, naked, stroking my breasts with the palms of my hands, hot and wanting and unsatisfied. I hoped Jim would still be able to rise to my need. He was bent over, picking up his shorts, as I turned away from the mirror. I licked my lips at the sight of his working buttocks and the large scrotal sac hanging between his muscular thighs.
"Well, honey, what do you think of swapping? " "Shit!" he blurted out. Then, turning to face me, he laughed. "This is the best answer I can give you."
I glanced down at his thick stiff prick, thrusting up like a pink-capped bludgeon. Jumping into bed, I lay on my back, arms and legs outspread in welcome. "Damn it!" I cried, "don't just stand there. Give it to me."
Two hours later, the soft light of dawn sifted into the room and over our naked bodies still locked in embrace. What delights, I wondered, could a woman possibly find, even in the most artful of cunnilingual techniques, to match the joy of a man's warm wet lips suckling her nipples, of his swollen cock throbbing its fullness into every crevice of her cunt, of the caress of his pulsing balls on her puckered sphincter at the full depth of his thrust?
Sensing the tensing of Jim's muscles, and the warm currents flooding through every nerve of my body to signal the on-rushing orgasm - his second, and my sixth (I think) - I dug my heels into the base of his ass cheeks, jerking the root of his thick cock against my clitoris. "Mmm! Jim, darling, give me every inch of you. Fill me! Flood me! Ooh! Come! Come!"
I fell asleep in his arms, sated, spent, and satisfied-except for that nagging question: what comparable delights could cunnilingus offer? I'd never be completely satisfied until I'd personally experienced the answer to that.
II
The thick scent of lilacs and the chirping of orioles in the bush outside the window roused me to awareness of a sunny Monday morning. I yawned and stretched. Before I had time to glance at the clock, Jim entered the room, fully dressed.
"Oh, Jim! I'm sorry. What time is it? " He leaned over to kiss my eyelids and bare breasts. "Honey, you better rest today,"he said with a chuckle. "You wore both of us out yesterday."
I jumped out of bed. "I'll make some coffee."
"No you won't." His arms went around me, the palms of his hands cupping my bare ass-cheeks. "You go back to bed and rest, hear?" Close up, the tip of his nose touching mine, his gray eyes were lighted with merriment, as he pulled me against him, the soft bulk of his cock pulsing on my thigh. "He'll be ready for a repeat tonight, darling. You be ready. Bye, bye."
I lay down on the rumpled sheet, strangely pensive and restive. Damn! I thought, I'm as horny as a bitch in heat! What in the world had come over me? I wondered, as I tossed about in bed, stroking my palms over my belly, up and around my breasts, regarding my naked body in the mirrors of the closet doors. As I wriggled about in bed, the tender skin of my buttocks scratched over starch-stiff spots on the sheet. Normally, this would have caused a feeling of revulsion which would have impelled me to rise immediately and change the sheets. But this morning, I took erotic pleasure in wallowing in them. What's happening to me? Until last Wednesday noon, I had been perfectly content and completely satisfied in my sexual relations with Jim.
I thought there was no peak of delight we had not scaled. But ever since I had met Don Ashby at lunch with Jim that day, I'd been unable to erase from my mind the image of his pink-tipped tongue moistening his wide lips, and the tantalizing movement of the feathery tip of his beard, like a dowsing rod wavering over my subconscious, dipping .. . here, the long-forgotten events of the past now welling up into the present.. . and I lie shivering in the heat of this August night, stretched on a blanket, staring at- the stars blinking through the tree leaves overhead. I hear the croak of a bullfrog and his plopping leap into the murmuring waters of the Des Plaines River, the chirping of crickets, and the growl of truck traffic on the highway a mile away. And through this, the slither of Ed Bellmon's shoes through the tall grass, setting my heart thumping and prickles of fear coursing through me.
I try to calm my panic as he sits beside me-it won't hurt too much, I tell myself, it's all over in a minute, the girls have told me-oh God! Get me out of here before it's too late.
"Heh! How about that? " he chortles. "I was sure I had a bottle of wine in the glove compartment. Here, honey, have a slug." I sit up, shivering, my arms folded across my breasts.
"It's getting late, Ed. We'd better go."
"What?"
He sets the bottle on the ground, puts his right arm around my shoulder, and pushes me back down on the blanket. "You told me your folks won't be home till one. It's only nine-thirty." His lips close over mine and I feel his tongue probing stiffly into my mouth. For the first time in the last two months, my tongue refuses to duel .with his. Somehow, with his two hundred pounds of muscled frame pinning me down in the dark night, and his left hand fumbling with his belt and zipper, the romance I had imagined for this moment has turned into terror.
"Please, Ed. Let me up." I can feel him lift his hips and I know he has pushed his trousers down below his knees.
"Don't be afraid, baby. You have to grow up sometime." His left hand is under my skirt. How silly of me, I think; there isn't a spot on my body that he hasn't touched. And tonight, to make it easy for him, I had worn no panties and no brassiere under my loose-fitting sweater. I had decided that tonight Ed Bellmon, captain of our championship high school football team, would make me a woman. I feel the night air on my thighs and lower belly, and his fingers in my pubic hair.
His tongue is licking the inside of my lips, as one of his fingers works its way into the crack of my pussy. My legs part and my buttocks lift up off the blanket, forcing my clitoris against his circling finger. Mmm! I hear myself murmur as his lips leave mine and his head drops down to nose in under my sweater. I raise my shoulders slightly as his head pushes my sweater up over my breasts.
"Jesus! What a gorgeous pair of tits," he whispers, nuzzling into the cleft of my breasts, nibbling at my nipples.
"My darling," I murmur, stroking his long blond hair and cupping a teat up to his mouth. All fear and terror have vanished. My thighs are spread, my ass lifting and rotating to the rhythm of his probing fingers reaching into my cunt, foiled of deep entry. "Christ!" he mutters, "a virgin!"
I clamp my thighs on his hand, and moisture oozes down my crack. Pressuring his face into my breasts, I urge hotly, "I want it. Oh, Ed! Give it to me." My skin tingles all over and a warm delightful flush spreads all through me as I feel his stiff cock throbbing against my left thigh. I've never seen nor handled a man's cock, and my left hand moves down stealthily as though to close about a wary bird. He is on his knees now, his lips and tongue caressing my breasts, nipples, then wetly mouthing down to my navel, sending spasms of joyous ripples across my belly. The touch of his lips is as gentle as butterfly wings. My fingers find the head of his cock and jerk back momentarily. Then I explore its length back to the thick growth of hair at its root. I shudder as I compare its length and bulk with the size of my finger. But I want it in me, oh! so desperately do I want it.
Ed straightens up and bends over to kiss my lips. "Baby!" he whispers, "you really are eating pussy. I want to eat it first." The palm of my hand holds his balls, and I thumb over the crinkled skin. "What do you mean? "I whisper. He laughed aloud. "Jan, how old are you?" I answered without thinking. "Sixteen." He raised up. Even in the dark I could see the frown lines in his forehead. "Jail bait! Christ, I thought you told me you were eighteen." Sliding my hand along the length of his cock, I replied hastily,
"I'll be seventeen next week." He shook his head. "That's a big help. Only sixteen and finished high school already. I don't want to get into trouble." My fingertips traced the outline of the bulging head of his cock, satin-smooth, wet and slick. "Ed, please, I want you to do it." He leaned over and kissed me passionately. "If I end up in jail, baby, you better come spend weekends with me." Shaking out of his trouser legs, he straddled me, facing my feet, his right knee close to my shoulder.
As he bent forward, his big cock was just above my face. I felt his lips on my belly, then down in my crotch. I turned my cheek to keep his cock away from my lips, felt the wet slick of it dripping down. Revulsion forced my face away from it, but irresistible attraction drew it back. His palms were on the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart, and his thumbs were on the lips of my cunt, spreading them open to his working tongue. As it circled my clitoris, I arched my back in convulsive joy and my hands went up around his hips to clasp his ass-cheeks, pulling his pubes down to my face. My nose was buried in the hair to the right of his balls, my nostrils filled with a strong musky scent, unlike any I had ever known. I could feel the warm and tender surface of the skin of his prick throbbing along my cheek.
Suddenly, Ed jumped to his feet. "Get up," he ordered hoarsely.
Headlights of an automobile outlined the tops of trees above us.
"Get in the car, quick."
I scrambled to my feet, adjusted my skirt and sweater, as Ed rolled the blanket, and tossed it in the back of the car. He had the car in gear and started down the rutted road when the red light atop the oncoming car flashed on. "Stay in the car," Ed said curtly as he braked to a stop and got out. I had the shakes, too scared to cry, the five minutes Ed was gone. He swaggered back to the car and started the motor, as the police car pulled off the road to let us pass.
"What happened? Are we under arrest?"
Ed laughed. "Hell no. I told you my uncle was County Commissioner. But that was close, baby. Home you go."
He left for college in the East two days later. I never saw him again.
Three months later, in a cheap, hot-bed motel south of Waukegan, I lost my virginity to a dumb, brutal Polack, a member of the freshman football squad who somehow managed to break my hymen and spill his seed in a forty-second bunny hop.
The telephone rang. Still seething with the fresh recall of that painful, disgusting event, I growled a hello into the phone.
"Jan? This is Don Ashby."
"Oh, Don." I glanced at the clock. "How are you? Jim will be in his office in another fifteen minutes. He's always .. . " "I'll talk to him later. Right now I want to talk to you. How'd you like the swap party Saturday night?"
"I didn't, frankly. I'm sorry ..."
"Jan, honey, that's why I waited till this morning to call. I wanted to talk to you while Jim wasn't home. I knew you both were disappointed with the results when you didn't wait for breakfast."
As he talked on, explaining that the group was bringing in new people, I found his low, resonant voice at once soothing and disturbing. The fingertips of my right hand were trailing over my breasts and belly. I closed my eyes, trying to simulate the feathery touch of his beard on my skin.
"... and Jan, I'll set aside the whole day tomorrow. We won't be disturbed, I guarantee you. You have such a marvelous figure, I must paint you. Can you come? Please?"
"Oh!" The shiver that passed throughout my body put a tremor in my voice.
"Jan? Please come."
"I thought the group had a rule against that." His laugh was quick and light. "You're enlarging on the invitation, Jan. There's no rule forbidding an artist to paint." "No, Don. Jim wouldn't..."
"He doesn't have to know. Hell, that's up to you. You could be here at ten, leave at three. That should give us plenty of time. Listen, do you have a pencil handy? Good. Take: down this number. Don't decide now. Give me a ring in the' morning after Jim leaves for work. The number is ... " I wrote it down.
"I'll expect to hear from you, Jan."
"No, Don. The answer is no. Good-bye."
Propping the pillows up in back of me, I sat staring at the note paper for several minutes, then deliberately tore it up and dropped the pieces into the waste basket beside the bed.
III
I hadn't been in my office ten minutes this morning when Don Ashby called. He was very brief, insisting on taking me to lunch to discuss something important. Don had steered several good accounts our way in the past, and, of course, I agreed to meet him in front of our building at eleven-forty-five. With no appointments scheduled for today, I looked forward to knocking off in the early afternoon to go home and rest up. God, was I tired!
As I went through the morning's mail, my mind was only partially attentive to business. Thoughts about Jan kept running through my head like playful rabbits. And that was a good description of my wife, come to think of it, at least as far as yesterday was concerned .. . downright horny, ready for mounting every moment. I hadn't questioned her about her experience with Freddie Nelson Saturday night. I didn't need to. We had piled into the sheets the minute we got home and screwed continuously for several hours. I counted eight orgasms for her to one for me, thanks to Lydia who had sucked the orange dry. Awakening at noon, Jan had prepared a big breakfast and afterwards, had enticed me back to bed. As eagerly ready as a nympho, Jan smothered me with kisses, but my weary cock lay as inert as I, and soon sleep overcame me. Half an hour later, I came awake to the nibbling of lips at the swollen crown of my cock and the smell of pussy in my nostrils. Jan was stretched out alongside me, her face at my genitals, her crotch up against my cheek. "What the hell are you doing?"
She raised her face to look up at me. "Honey, I thought you enjoyed this last night with Lydia."
"Come up here," I said.
Turning around, she lay beside me, nuzzling her mouth up to my ear. "I want to do everything for you, darling, everything that gives you pleasure."
"Look, baby, that's an art, believe me. Lydia didn't become an expert by sucking lollipops."
"I can do it. Let me try."
Holding her chin, I forced her to look at me. "Have you ever gone down on a man?" She shook her head.
"Maybe sometime, later, perhaps. Meanwhile, turn over on your back. I'll give it to you where it does the most good." I hadn't completed the first stroke when she spoke.
"Jim, have you ever gone down on a woman?"
"You should know better than to ask that. If I'd ever eaten pussy in my life, I'd have eaten yours. Muff-diving's for guys with pricks smaller than their tongues. Let's keep our minds on business."
Damn that swap party. Watching that man-swallower in action on me Saturday night had certainly stirred some crazy thinking in Jan's head.
When I stepped onto the sidewalk at a quarter to twelve, Don's Jag was already parked at the curb. Seated alongside him was Helen Conrad.
"I thought this was a business lunch," I said, sliding in beside Helen and putting my arm around her shoulder.
"But what a delightful surprise to find you here." I kissed her cheek, inhaling the light fragrance of her unusual perfume.
"Don and I had some business this morning. He didn't think you'd mind my joining you for lunch."
"No indeed. Delighted, believe me."
We were moving north on Michigan in heavy traffic.
"Hope you don't mind coming up to my place, Jim. I'm expecting some calls. I've ordered steak sandwiches sent over from Giorgio's."
"Fine with me." Fine? Hell, I thought, a copy man's vocabulary should yield a word more descriptive of the way I felt. All morning I'd been dragging around the office like an old sway-backed gelding. Now, glancing at the sunny glints in Helen's red hair, and creamy flow of flesh in the cleft of her breasts, I felt like a young stallion, his nose in the wind, sniffing the scent of promise.' I had never seen Don's new place, having been out of town six months ago when he'd held open house. He had bought and remodeled an old three-story building on East Walton. The brick facade, painted light gray, had boxes of flowering plants beneath wide, latticed windows, and wrought iron carriage lamps on either side of a carved oak door. Inside, the small reception room was papered with Paris street scenes, reminiscent of Utrillo, their pale sunny color matched in the deep-pile carpeting. A young blonde, seated behind a modern desk with lines as trim as her own, greeted us with a warm smile. Handing Don a batch of telephone messages, she pressed a button at the side of her desk to release the door lock. Don held the door open for Helen and me, then turned to the receptionist. "Marcy, I'm expecting a man from Giorgio's. When he comes, send him right up to my apartment."
On the first floor, all but two load-bearing walls had been removed, and some ten artists were at work in glass-enclosed cubicles. Against the left wall was a carpeted staircase, with polished mahogany handrail supported by hand carved newel posts and balusters. Leading the way, Don paused at the second floor. "I have a small office in front here, Jim, and another one for my bookkeeper, and two spare bedrooms in back. I use these as workrooms for additional help when we're rushed. My quarters are upstairs."
"A fine -layout, Don," I commented, as Helen and I followed him. She didn't need, but seemed to like, the assisting boost I was giving her working buttocks with the palm of my right hand.
Three doors opened off the paneled hallway. Pointing to the door in the front wall, Don said, "That's my bedroom. This center one is my living room, and the one back here is my personal studio." He looked at me, his brows arched, and a wide grin on his lips. "The rooms are all connected, inside."
"I see," I said with a chuckle, "emergency exists in case of fiery husbands."
"Exactly. We'll take a quick tour. The studio first."
The room was not large, but a glass skylight slanting down to the north wall of plate glass gave it a spaciousness that was breathtaking. In the corner to my left was a compact kitchen, and closer, against the wall, a studio couch and two lounge chairs. Hanging on the walls, and stacked everywhere else, were oil canvases and large water colors. Over the studio couch, a life-like oil painting of Helen dominated the room, her nude figure stretched out on this same couch, an inviting smile on her lips and a lively sparkle in her emerald green eyes. Her breasts were large but firm, and the red of the aureoles a color match for the deltaic patch of pubic hair.
"You like?" Helen brushed my side.
I put my arm around her waist and squeezed. "Uh-uh. I love."
She leaned against me momentarily. "You will. You better be real good."
I glanced at Don who stood holding the knob of the door leading into the living room. He watched, patient and uncomplaining, as she snuggled into my arms.
"I guarantee you I'll be good."
"I'll hold you to that guarantee, don't forget."
"And, the living room," Don said, with a wave of his hand.
The room was large. Sunlight poured through the latticed windows across the front. A modern fireplace in white-painted brick centered in the wall to my left, with furniture grouped before it: a sofa in green velvet and low, tufted back, a rectangular coffee table of half-inch plate glass, and mushroom chairs at either end, covered in cotton print. At the sound of a buzzer, Don opened the door into the hallway and stood looking down over the rail. "Up here," he called.
A young man in a white coat entered, carrying a tray balanced on the upturned palm of his right hand. At Don's direction, he set the tray on the table before the fireplace.
"Thanks, Willie. We'll take care of the rest." Don signed the check and closed the door after him.
"You two help yourselves," Don said. "I have to make a phone call. I'll be with you in a minute." He entered the bedroom and closed the door.
Helen removed the covers from two of the plates, filled two small salad plates from a large bowl. "Coffee with, Jim?"
"Yes, please."
"I hope Don hurries. Cold steak's not very tasty." Helen and I were half finished before Don returned. "Damn! I'm sorry. That's Joe Coffey from St. Louis. You know the agency, Jim." "No, I don't."
"Well, he's at the Palmer House. Been trying to get me all morning. He's about to piss in his pants. You two divvy up my sandwich. I have to run."
"I'll have to go as soon as I eat," I said. "I can drop Helen off when I leave."
"Nonsense." Don smiled broadly. "You two kids make yourselves at home. I won't be home until midnight. Show him the rest of the house, Helen."
"You mean the bedroom?" She giggled.
"What else?" He turned at the door to wave and was gone.
I set the fork and knife on my plate, and looked up at her. She held the coffee cup to her lips with both hands, and crinkled her nose.
"You better eat that other steak, honey. You're going to need it."
I thought of Jan and our four blissful years together, then I recalled the oil painting of this luscious redhead I had just seen. I tried to laugh, but the shrill nervous noise I made startled me. "So this is the business Don had in mind?"
"Not Don," she said softly. "This was my idea. I was afraid I'd have to wait weeks or even months before those damned dice or cards the group uses in pairing up people would come right for me." She leaned forward, her eyes wide and questioning. "Well?"
All thoughts of Jan faded. I stood up, held a hand out to her. "What the hell are we waiting for?"
Rising, she led me to the bedroom door, turned the knob and stood aside for me to enter. "My God!" I gasped. There were no doors, no windows, and no furniture, except a huge circular bed, covered with a white nylon sheet. Every wall was covered from floor to ceiling with mirrors; the entire ceiling was mirrored. The floor was overlaid in pale blue carpeting, thick and self-patterned. As Helen closed the door behind her, soft lights came up, pale and pink as dawn. She turned her back to me, pointing a finger to the top of her zipper. She smiled at me impishly in the mirror on the back of the door.
"I love to go to bed in this room. I can watch every ripple in every muscle." She stepped out of her dress and slipped off her shoes, leaving her with nothing on but a pair of panty-hose and a brassiere. I gaped like a peeping-tom. Pressing one of the mirrors, she pushed it in as a swinging panel, to reveal a deep closet lined with men's suits and jackets. I was still standing as she hung her dress on a hanger. "Good Lord! Jim, are you going to make love to me with your clothes on?"
"Hell, no." I chuckled. "I'm still in shock." As I started to undress, she walked over to the wall next to the stairwell.
"The bathroom's in here," she said, pushing a mirrored panel. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she removed her panty-hose, then leaned over and unclasped her brassiere.
Damn! She's lovely, I thought, regarding her nakedness stretched out on the bed. In another minute, I was undressed and lay down beside her. She rolled into my arms in a passionate embrace and her tongue darted into my mouth as our lips met. The fingers of her left hand flew up and down my back, grabbed my buttock, then slid quickly over my hip to clasp my swelling cock.
"Mmm!" She purred. "I've been wanting to get my hands on this ever since he poked black and blue spots on my thigh at the dance last Wednesday night." She was sliding the crown of it up and down in her oozing slit.
"Put it in, baby," I said hoarsely, thrusting my cock forward, but missing the hole as she pulled her ass back.
She pulled away from me, rolling over twice, then sitting up. Frown lines grooved her forehead as she looked at me, surprise in her wide-opened eyes. "You act like a boy going after his first piece of tail."
I sat up. I could feel the flush spreading over my face. Damn her, I thought, tempted to rise, dress, and leave her. "I've never had any complaints."
"You won't have any from me, either. I'm no quick lay. I. . . " "Quick?" I snorted. "When I sink this cock of mine into you, you'll be blowing off for two hours straight."
"If, a big IF, you do." Her palms moved over the firm mounds of her breasts, down across the flat planes of her belly, in gentle caress, until her fingertips moved in a light ballet through her pubic hair. In the mirrors of the ceiling and walls, I watched with growing excitement, the alluring love dance of her hands over her silhouetted curves.
"Nobody lays me, honey, nobody . . . until he's loved every inch of me." She stared at me, while her hands moved slowly over her body. "Every inch of me, understand?"
Shit! I thought, regarding her intently while I tried to stifle my anger, if she thinks I'm going to start eating pussy to earn the privilege of laying her, she's crazy.
"Okay, honey," I said, "I'm sorry I was pushy. You're so damned lovely, I lost control of myself. Lie down, and let's see what we can do about it." I certainly wasn't going to eat it, but I could get her so excited, she'd beg me to bury it in her.
"Ah! Jim, darling," she said softly as she lay down, her face on my thigh and her lips kissing the weeping crown of my throbbing cock. "Love your baby, love me, make me scream with delight, love every inch of me."
Kneeling beside her, I bent over, my lips nibbling at her eyes, ears, and cheeks while my fingertips trailed around the outlines of her breasts. Her left hand worked in the hair at the back of my neck, her right up and down the insides of my thighs, the fingers pausing to tickle my scrotum, then moving to my twitching rectum, leaving a tingling trail of fire. My lips were warm, wet and alive as they moved down to her breasts to feast on her delicate, sweet-scented flesh. Around the darker pink circled aureoles, my tongue brushes stiff wet strokes, hardening the center buds into tiny mounds twitching at my lips and eliciting a throaty hum of pleasure, exciting to my ear.
The palms of her hands touch my cheeks and she kisses me lightly. "Oh, darling! That feels so good. Do my back first, please." She rolls over and I marvel at the perfection of her lines, the rounded mounds of her ass-cheeks. "Kiss me, darling, tongue me all over. I love it."
For the first time in my life, I find the taste, the scent, the warm softness of a woman's flesh raising prickles of delight all over me as I licked and nibbled at her shoulders, back and buttocks, licking at the base of her spine again and again, thrilling at the involuntary spasms of muscular reaction accompanied by her squeals of delight. Raising a leg over my head, she turned onto her back and I found myself kneeling between her legs. I bent over to nibble at her nipples, nose down into her perfumed cleft and tongue my way slowly and tantalizingly over the velvety smoothness of her belly, warmly kiss and nuzzle her navel, down, down, until my nose hovered over the thin patch of crinkly red hair. My hands slid under her buttocks.
This isn't the first time I've kissed cunt, I told myself, and decided to nuzzle it just long enough to feel her passionate response. Her knees were raised and widespread, as I cupped the soft flesh of her ass-cheeks. Her hands slid over her pubic mound, and her long fingers separated the thick outer lips, while she hummed and moaned in joyous anticipation. "Mmm! Kiss it, lover. Love it, lover." I stared in wondrous fascination at the opened slit, the lips, gorged, their passionate red contrasting to the pale opal of her long fingernails. At the top of the slit, her thumbs spread the bedewed folds, her clitoris tightened up like a stiff mini-prick. Although I had massaged the head of my cock in female genitalia many times, I had never examined one close up. "Love it, love it," she cried huskily, raising her pubes up to my lips. I looked up the slope of her belly to the firm mounds of breasts. The scent of her cunt was a clean, compelling aphrodisiac in my nostrils. Her fingers twined in my hair, pulling my face into her dewey slit.
I felt the hardened tissue of her joybud slide off the bridge of my nose, and I found surprisingly pleasant the taste of her juices, the warm, soft tenderness of her internal tissues. M palms moved around her hips to the smooth plane of her belly, and I drew her up closer to my working lips and tongue. Momentarily I paused, astonished to find myself in this position, but it was a pleasure and a delight I had too long denied myself.
Through the red fuzz of her pubic hair I glanced at her face, eyes staring vacantly upwards, lips open and contorted. I buried my tongue as deeply as it would go, then laved the lips up to the top folds, nosing these aside to uncover the hidden little hard-on, tonguing around and around, my head swinging in rhythm with the gyration of her hips, my hair clutched in her fingers, which pulled my working mouth into her oozing slit . . . her movement stopped for an instant, and I peered up through her tangled brush to see her eyes wide, her mouth opened as a mournful cry pierced the quiet.
Then her head jerked and her belly muscles spasmed as her hips rolled and rotated. My lips opened and my mouth sucked every drop of her passion's distillation. For the first time, I tasted the strange, semi-sweetness of a woman's juice. I held my opened mouth to the warmth of her wet slit, draining off every last drop, waiting till the last pulsing throb of her tissues died away. And, as I set her buttocks down gently on the bed, I marveled that I had never tried it before.
I lay down beside her, as spent as though I had spilled my semen seven times over. For several minutes, she lay quiet, breathing deeply. Then she leaned over to kiss my mouth, licking my lips.
"Well, honey," I said, running my fingers through her long hair, "how'd you like it?"
"Marvelous, darling, just marvelous." She rubbed her nose against mine. "I'm already looking forward to next time."
Running my tongue as far as it would reach around outer edges of my lips, I savored the remnants of her slick, mucous deposit. "Sure has a strange taste and consistency." "You like?" She grinned. "Yes. I like. I didn't think I would." She sat up, looking down at me with startled eyes. "You mean you never did before? Really?" "That was the first time I ever ate cunt in my life." She threw herself on me, kissing my cheeks, ears, lips. "Oh, you darling, Jim. I never suspected." She cocked her head to regard me quizzically. "Not even for Jan? You never went down on her?"
I had forgotten all about Jan and I closed my eyes at the mention of her name. "No," I said thoughtfully, "no, I'm sorry to say, not even for Jan."
"Jim, honey, I'm going to the bathroom for a few minutes. I'll take care of this huge, handsome cock of yours when I get back." She leaned down and kissed the crown of it. "Oh, you lovely thing, you. And how I'll take care of you.
The telephone rang.
"I'll answer it," she said, reaching back of the bed and bringing the receiver up to her ear. "Yes? Oh, he's out in the kitchen. Just a minute, I'll get him." Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, she said, "It's for you, Jim. Don told me to be sure to tell you to call Milt Hubbard. I'm sorry I forgot." She held the phone for a ten count, then handed it to me.
"Hello?"
"Jim? This is Milt. Didn't Don tell you to call me?" "Yes, he did, Milt. I'm sorry, we got to talking, and ..."
"No harm done. It's two o'clock, and I'm leaving the office for an appointment. If you're free for lunch tomorrow, I'd like to have you come out around noon. Our advertising needs looking into and I thought you folks might like to take a preliminary shot at it."
"Fine, Milt. Be glad to. Shall I come straight to your plant? At noon? Fine. I'll be there." I handed the receiver back to her. "How about that?"
"Good news?"
"Could be . .. real good." I lay back and clasped my hands behind my neck. Coincidence couldn't possibly explain the concurrence of two such events in one afternoon, I thought-Don's arranging my frolic with Helen, and Milt's phoning an invitation to look into his company's advertising account. Of course, I said to myself, the smell of their connivance was as sensible as the scent of pussy in my nostrils-they both wanted a shot at my wife and both feared we would leave the group after our first experience. in their swap game. This was too obviously a double-baited hook. So far I had enjoyed nibbling and had found the bait very tasty indeed.
"Jim, honey," Helen broke into my thoughts. "Don told me to be sure to tell you another thing I forgot. Fred and Lydia Nelson have left the group. We have a new couple to take their place as soon as all the members have agreed on them."
"Baby, at the moment I couldn't care less. I have a bag full that's going to give me a king-sized nut ache if I don't blow it."
She giggled, leaned over and ran her tongue around the head of my semi-stiff prick. "If you have the time, lover, I want to give you the works this afternoon. First, I want to suck the innards out of this lollipop, then I want you to lay me double in hearts. Okay?"
"You named the game, baby, get with it."
"I have to pee. Back in a minute."
As she closed the bathroom door behind her, I picked up the phone and called my secretary. She informed me there were no messages and no mail, and I asked her to call Jan and tell her I was stuck with an out-of-town client whose airport bus left at nine. "Will do, boss," she said lightly, "have fun." I hung up, thankful that Jan would accept this second-hand message in good grace-hell, come to think of it, I never had cheated on her before this.
"At ease, master," Helen breathed softly as she knelt beside me. "Your houri is about to raise you to the Moslem Paradise."
At the first stroke of her tongue, light as plumed smoke, over the nerve center at the juncture of chest and right shoulder, I relaxed completely physically, but came mentally alert, determined to remember and catalog for future use every move of this woman's felicity. As her lips and tongue trail light as gossamer across my chest, pausing unerringly over nerves that tingle into joyous arousal at their loving touch,
I cannot help but feel abashed at my childish ignorance of the infinite variety of erotic- delights available to the initiate. Ah! I think, as her subtle tongue piques belly muscles into spasms of delight, what joys I shall bring to my Jan as a result of this girl's lesson in the art of making love. I roll over on my belly at the gentle urging of her lips and fingers and I lie entranced by the spell of her mouth and tickling trail of her hair up and down the sensitive skin of my back, over my buttocks, down the inside of one thigh and one calf, over to the other, and up, up, her nose nuzzling into the crack of my ass, her breath warm and exciting, and her fingertips spin me over on my back ...
I look down to see my cock standing like a rounded stump, rising above the top of her head, and I feel her lips nibbling into my groin beside my balls, up and down the tender skin of my thigh, skipping over to the other thigh, mouthing up to my groin, and her nose sniffing into the hair, snorting her delight as I moan my pleasure . . . her tongue moves over the crinkled skin of my scrotum, up to the base of my cock, and two fingers steady it with delicate touch, as she kisses her way wetly up the underside of it, to open her mouth wide and enclose the throbbing bulbous crown.
Her hands slide under my buttocks to slither up across my belly and I feel her tongue lapping around the coronal ridge, pausing to titillate the underside of the foreskin, her lips then closing tight around it and her teeth gently biting as she gobbles it inch by inch up into her mouth, sucking, biting, nibbling, sucking as fire gathers throughout my body and I tense, feeling her fingers working in my belly flesh and fires flame all through me roaring up from my legs down from my chest my back my belly burning their way fiercely into the crack of my ass and up the length of my pulsing penis, exploding into the fire of her mouth sucking - ooh! ooh! Take it, take it all, honey!
"Sonovabitch!" I exclaimed weakly.
"What's the matter, lover?" Helen slid up beside me.
"Damn! You must have drawn off a month's supply, baby. I won't get another hard-on till ..."
"Sissy! I bet we have him standing up like an SDS speaker at a campus rally in less than a half hour. Wanna bet?" Her lips opened over mine and her tongue probed stiffly into my mouth, salting it with traces of viscous film.
"No bet, hell no. I will bet you'd raise a hard-on on every stiff in the morgue, just walking through."
We lie for five or ten minutes, nuzzling each other; nibbling at ears and eyes and lips, trailing fingertips over breasts and bellies and buttocks. She throws one knee over my belly and rises to kneel, facing me. Squatting on her heels, I feel the crack of her ass spread wetly over my pubic hair, wriggle back on my limp cock. Shaking her head, she smiles sadly. "He's still asleep." Moving one knee forward a few inches, then the other, her pussy leaves a wide wet trail on my belly. My hands cup her breasts as she moves closer.
Her knees are close to my armpits now and she spreads her legs wider, sways to her left and squats over the nipple of my right side, twitching the lips of her cunt on it. . . "Now we've had that part of you in me," then she sways to her right and squats over the nipple of my left side . . . "and that part of you inside me." As she straightens up, my hands come down between her thighs and turn to palm her buttocks. Her mound is inches from my face and my hands pull it up to my mouth . .. "And now," I mutter through a mouthful of hair, "you have this part of me in you again."
She wriggles forward an inch or two. I look up as her slit lowers and I open my mouth and extend my tongue eagerly to lap the glistening nectar. Her cries of ecstatic joy are muffled by the pressure of her thighs. My nose and mouth are snug against the arch of her vulval tissues and through crinkly brush, I see the taut plane of her belly rise to the firm mounds of her breasts, centered by the pink buds of her paps, and above and between them, the wrench of passion in her twisted lips. For an instant, I catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror overhead, the cascade of red hair over her shoulders, the downward slope of her breasts, the working of her buttocks above my chest, and my own elongated nakedness with a thick, stiff cock angling up out of a patch of dark underbrush. Then all this disappears as the arch of her wet slit slides forward, covering even my eyes in vulval folds.
feel entombed in the womb of time, breathless, marking her tense pause at the peak, then, with open mouth and working lips, welcoming the copious spate of her juices as she savagely thrashes out her sexual release. Her tremors cease, but I hold her over me, loathe to let a drop of this precious nectar escape my thirsting mouth. My lips widen in a smile that touches her tender tissues-I have become an expert cunt-lapper in one easy lesson-and I love it!
"Come on, darling, stand up." Helen is standing beside the bed.
"No. You come lie down. Look at this big stiff prick of mine."
"Come on, please, darling. Try it my way for a change." She extends a hand and drags me to my feet. Throwing her arms about my neck, she kisses me with passionate, working lips, and leaps up in my arms, her legs encircling my hips. "Put it in, honey."
"Like this?" I ask incredulously.
"Try it. Just this once." She pushes her belly away from mine, takes hold of my cock, wetting the crown of it thoroughly in her soaking slit. After several tries, she manages to engorge the head of it with her cuntal lips. I feel her sphincter muscle close tight around it, then relax as she slowly settles down on it. My palms are under her ass-cheeks, supporting her weight.
"Now what do we do?"
"Silly! Have fun, that's what."
She must have a million little muscles up there, I think, as I feel them clutching, then releasing, like a musician's fingers playing expertly along the length of my organ.
"Carry me over close to the wall, honey."
With each stiff-legged step I take, I feel my hard cock move into every cranny of her vaginal barrel, hear the squashy sound of it pressuring in and out of her succulent cunt.
"That's close enough. Now, turn your back to the mirror, and hold the small of my back. I want to lean way-back."
"Careful, you nut," I warned, "you'll break it off in you.
"Whee! This is fun. Bend over, honey. Spread your legs more. There!" Her head was on the floor, off to her right side, and her eyes were staring into the mirror.
"Well, what the hell is so interesting?"
"Your asshole, darling. Wink at me."
"What the hell! Let's get in bed and do this right." I pulled her back up in my arms.
"Wait, please. Come like this once. You'll like it. We'll do it your way next time."
I stood there, supporting her buttocks, feeling her nipples hard against my chest, her lips working over my cheeks and mouth, her legs taking purchase on my hips as she raised herself up on the shaft of my cock, then lowered herself.. . the weirdest sensation I had ever experienced. We came at the same instant, with moans and wild cries somehow timed to the crazed rhythm of her bouncing, wriggling, jouncing ass.
She kissed me when her buttocks finally came to rest. "Leave him in, darling, and carry me into the shower."
Half an hour later, on the sidewalk outside, I offered to buy her dinner, hoping she'd refuse. She laughingly refused when she noticed me glance at my watch. "What time's your next train, Jim?"
"Nine-ten. I can't make that. I'll see you home in a taxi."
"You have fifteen minutes. You run along. I'll take this cab myself. I had a wonderful time. We'll do it again, real soon."
I held her in my arms, pressing her head into my shoulder and inhaling the delicate scent of her rare perfume, a perfect complement to her personality. "I love that scent."
"It's a new fragrance by Patou." She kissed me. "It's called Joy."
As the cab drove away, I thought, Joy! A perfect summary of a perfect day.
IV
I was wide awake when the alarm went off, but I closed my eyes and feigned sleep. Jim shut it off after only one ring, rose immediately and went into the bathroom. I glanced at the clock, surprised to find it was only six. Lying in bed, listening to the sluicing sounds of his morning ablutions, I determined not to fix breakfast for him and to avoid any lengthy conversation, in view of the events of last night and my plan for the day's activities which had resulted therefrom.
He had arrived home at ten-fifteen, so utterly fatigued that he had greeted me with a pecking kiss and a perfunctory explanation of his tardiness. He undressed in two minutes and flopped into bed. Some ten minutes later, I had lain down beside him to find that he was already sound asleep. This was the first time in four years of marriage that he had failed to kiss me good night, and it had piqued into full awareness the fleeting doubt that had risen in my mind on his arrival when I thought I had detected a trace of perfume about him. I leaned over to kiss him lightly and caught the trace of another scent. . . Could it be? I sniffed at his nostrils and about his lips.
Through the lingering odor of a strange toilet soap, I recognized another essence, the unmistakable smell of a woman's pussy! Damn you! I had to clasp my hands to keep from slapping him. I wasn't angry that he'd put his nose into pussy ... I was furious he'd refused to do it for me, but had done it for her. HER? It had to be her. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, I rose and went to his clothes closet, taking his blue suit from the rack. I was right. A faint trace of jasmine still lingered about the left shoulder of his jacket. I remembered asking her last Wednesday night for the name of the distinctive new scent she was wearing. Joy! He had eaten pussy for Helen Conrad today!
Thankful I had not emptied the waste basket yet, I took it out to the den. Sorting out the pieces of the note I had torn up, I spread them on the desk top and put them together, binding them with Scotch tape. I placed the note in a book on the shelf, and went back to bed. The night was anything but restful, for I lay awake, summoning up images of the great experience I joyfully contemplated for the morrow.
Jim's kiss awakened me from a doze. "You rest this morning, honey. I'm catching the six-fifty." He shrugged into his jacket. "I forgot to tell you last night. I'm having lunch and spending the afternoon with Milt Hubbard. We have a shot at taking over his advertising, so I want to bone up on everything we have in the files." He leaned over and kissed me again. "Don't expect me till seven or so. We'll eat out tonight."
"Okay," I said sleepily. "Good-bye." The moment I heard his car pull out of the garage, I sat up and stretched. Early morning sunlight flooded the room. Ah! I breathed happily, what a lovely day this is going to be. I removed my nightgown and hung it in the closet, strutting naked into the den. Even my breasts seemed to jiggle with anticipatory joy. Taking the note from the pages of the book, I returned to the bedroom, enjoying the cool brush of morning air on my naked flesh. Sitting bedside, I picked up the phone and glanced at the clock. Goodness! I thought, it's only ten to seven. I replaced the receiver. I didn't want to appear too anxious. I stood up for a moment, then sat down again. I laughed as merrily as a young teen-ager ready for her first date, picked up the receiver and dialed. I am anxious for this, I said to myself; why try to hide it? The phone rang only once.
"Hello, Don?" My voice sounded soft and shaky. "Jan, darling. I knew it was you. I was lying here and thinking about you." "I didn't waken you?"
"I haven't slept all night, thinking about you. How soon can you get here?" "About nine, I think."
"If I'm not in the reception room, tell the girl you're Miss Goss from the model agency. Hurry, honey."
Smiling because of the ease with which the dreaded call had gone, I replaced the receiver. Damn! I had forgotten to ask for his address. I found it in the yellow pages and jotted it on the note paper.
In the shower, I soaped myself thoroughly, then douched, using only warm water. I wasn't sure how a girl prepared herself for a lover who was going down on her. No girdle. Panty hose, yes. A brassiere. A sheer slip. And my new double knit dress in a dark shade of lilac. I was ready to leave by a quarter to eight, and decided to drive. I wouldn't have to worry about suburban train schedules returning home.
Don was waiting for me when I opened the door. "Good morning," he said with a broad smile. "You must be Miss Goss from the model agency. I'm Don Ashby. Come in." He held the inner door for me, and turned to the young blonde receptionist. "Marcy, this is my day to paint. No phone calls. I'm out to everyone and can't be reached."
As we climbed the stairs, I said softly, "Thanks, Don."
"Jan, darling, there's nothing I won't do for you." The palm of his hand slid lightly up my buttocks, sending shivers up my spine. "My studio's on the third floor," he said, pointing up the stairway. "Have you ever been painted, Jan?"
"No," I replied, hoping he was not going to waste any time on that... at least, not today. "The studio's in here," he said, opening a door and standing back.
"Very nice." I glanced about quickly, noting the skylight, the window-wall, the kitchen appliances in the corner. I was disappointed he didn't lake me in his arms. Instead, he stood off to one side, regarding me gravely, his right hand stroking his beard. I gasped when I turned and saw the life-sized oil painting of Helen Conrad in the nude, hanging over the couch, lights glinting in her long red hair, the delicate pink of her aureoles and the lighter pink of her nipples. As my glance followed the flow of creamy flesh from her breasts down the planes of her belly to the mound of fluffy hair at her pubes, I had to admit that my Jim had had good cause to nose into that, whatever shrewd device she had used to nudge him into it.
"Well?"
I turned to face Don. "She's beautiful. .. it's lovely, Don. But.. . " He laughed. "We won't start anything like that today. Maybe a sketch or two, Jan." His glance went over me slowly, and excitedly. "I'm looking forward to going to work on you. Come, you can get ready in the bedroom." He opened a door and led me through the living room, to a door near the front windows. "Remove your clothes, Jan. You'll find a dressing gown in the closet."
Startled, I turned to look at him for a moment. I had expected him to neck a bit and then undress me himself. Had I misinterpreted his interest in me? Was I just another model with a body that intrigued his artistic instincts? There was only one artistry of his that interested me. With such thoughts in mind, I stepped into the dark room and the door clicked behind me. A soft pinkish light flooded the room. My God! Every foot of wall and ceiling space was nothing but mirrors, reflecting the great circular bed and its spotless nylon sheet, with no other furniture in the room. What a paradise for sexual activity! A mirrored panel in the corner of the wall to the right was turned in. I walked over and peered into the bathroom; it too was walled with mirrors. Back near the entrance door, another mirrored panel was turned in, revealing a deep closet. Undressing hurriedly, I hung my clothes in the closet, then flung myself on the bed. In the ceiling mirrors, I regarded the reflection of my nude body with quivering excitation, caressing my flesh with palms already moist. Raising my legs straight up from my hips, I spread them wide, watching the reflection of my tawny pussy, the short brown stretch of skin, and the dark, pink ring of my anus. With my fingertips, I spread the hairy lips of my cunt. Ooh! Don! Ooh! Somebody, come love me!
I hadn't heard the door open. I don't know how long he I had been standing there. My legs were still straight up, spread wide, when I chanced to look into the wall mirror, and saw his reflection framed between the vee of my thighs. A broad grin bared his white teeth, contrasting with the black of his chin beard. I lowered my legs slowly and a ruddy flush spread all over me.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" He approached the bed and stood looking down at me, his gaze traveling slowly from my face down to my feet.
"Yes," I said weakly, my left hand, unbidden, covering I my pubes before I consciously removed it. "I've never in my life seen anything like it."
"I gave you plenty of time to slip into the robe. I'm sorry I broke in on you."
58 Greg On What's the matter with him? Why doesn't he undress! He still wore his blue jacket, yellow turtle-neck sweater and gray plaid slacks. His brow was creased with frown lines. I thought there was a strange glint in his eyes.
"You didn't come here to pose, did you?"
Was he mad? A momentary shiver passed through me.
"Well, did you?"
I wondered what he'd do if I got up, told him to go hell, and put on my clothes. But one glance at his narrowed eyelids, and the stern lines in his tense face, convinced me not to try.
"Goddamn it! Answer me. Did you?"
"No." I was close to tears.
"Why did you come? Answer me."
"I wanted you to make love to me."
"Don't you get laid at home?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. "Yes."
"Then what do you want from me?"
I sat up, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Nothing, want to go home."
He knelt beside the bed. I thought he was about apologize. Instead, he leaned over to pick up something from the floor. Before I could scramble away from him, he had slipped a leather cuff around my right ankle, an snapped a lock.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" I lifted my leg The cuff was attached to a metal chain anchored to the be frame. "Goddamn you! Let me out of here or I'll scream.
He laughed scornfully. "Go ahead, scream. The room soundproofed. I'll scream with you."
He was either completely nuts, I thought, or he wants to make a deal of some kind. In either case, I decided to find out. "All right, Don," I said, staring him down, "what is it you want?"
"That's better." He grinned. "I want to know exactly why you came here today."
"Because your chin whiskers fascinated me." I grinned back at him. "I wanted to know how they'd feel in the crack of my ass."
"Fine. Now we're getting somewhere. You wanted me to go down on you." I nodded.
"And you were going to go down on me, were you?"
I couldn't conceal the shock in my eyes.
He chuckled. "That's what I thought." Removing his jacket, he hung it in the closet. I watched him undress, deliberately, carefully hanging each garment on a hanger. Finally, he removed his blue and white polka-dotted shorts. His back and buttocks were firm and muscular, his legs quite hairy. When he turned around, his cock was standing stiffly out from a thick patch of pubic hair, with thin black tendrils straggling up to his navel. The comparison popped unbidden into my mind: unlike Jim's, his prick was long and slender, probably an inch shorter, and the crown much smaller. But his scrotal sac was as large as an orange, and dangled far below the base of his cock as he stepped slowly back to the bed.
"You ever gone down on a man, lover baby?"
My gaze fastened on his cock and balls, I shook my head negatively.
"I'll love that pussy of yours after you've taken care of this. A deal?"
I said nothing, just stared at his genitals.
Holding his cock in his right hand, he put his left hand in back of my head, pulling it forward. "Kiss it, baby. It won't bite."
I turned my face and his cock slid past my mouth and alongside my left cheek. My nose was pressed into his pubic hair, and I sniffed again that strong, musky, male odor I had first smelled in Ed Bellmon's crotch the first time I'd had contact with male genitals. The urge to nuzzle into it rose strongly, but died instantly as Don's hand jerked my head. "Kiss it, damn you!" I pulled my head back. "Okay. If that's the way you want it." Grasping my right wrist, he reached down for another cuff, and locked it on my arm. Then, walking to the other side of the bed, he locked my left leg and my left wrist with cuffs. I lay spread-eagled on the bed, wriggling helplessly. With his knees on either side of my hips, he kneeled, facing me.
"Now, you little tease, I'm going to force-feed it to you." Leaning forward, his hard-on lay in the cleft of my breasts. With the palms of both hands pressing them together, he began pumping it in slow rhythmic motion. Pressing my chin downward, I tried to see the end of his prick ... I couldn't see it, but I could feel its wetness against my chin. I could see the flesh of my breasts covering his shaft, feel its pulsing warmth. I liked it!
"You ever had this done to you before?"
I looked up, but could see nothing but his hairy chest. "No."
"Anyone ever eaten your pussy before?" "No."
His hands came away from my breasts and he straightened up. He cocked his head to look at me questioningly. "You haven't been around much, have you: "No."
"Ever had it up the ass?" I shuddered.
"Do you want to eat it, or do you want me to shove it up your ass?"
I strained at each of the cuffs binding me, unable to believe this was happening to me. "I'll eat it. Let me out these things."
"Try it first, honey." He wriggled forward until his buttocks rested on my breasts. His hands dangled at hit sides, and his cock was inches above my mouth. In the ceiling mirror overhead, I watched myself with an odd fascination as my mouth opened and my head angled to catch the pink-capped end of his prick. My lips closed around it, and I tasted the drops of liquid dripping from the opening. I sucked at it, like a child with his first lollipop. What was it Jim had said? You don't learn the art by sucking on lollipops. Opening my mouth wide, I drew it in I deep, sucking at it vigorously until I gagged. Don drew back and I forced it out of my mouth.
"Damn it!" I exploded, "get these cuffs off me. I want to suck your balls dry."
Don roared with laughter. "That's my girl." He jumped out of bed, opened the locks of each cuff and flopped on his back. "Go after it, Jan, honey."
Kneeling on the bed, I said, "I've never done this before, but I want to learn. Tell me what to do, Don, please." He spread his legs. "Get down on your belly between my legs. Now, start at my knees, and nibble up the inside of my thigh." I followed his instructions. "No, no. Tongue,and kiss the skin like you're really enjoying it. There, that's the way. Now, you're up at my balls, nuzzle into the soft flesh there, then lap over and around the balls to the other side.
I Like that. Now, down the inside of that thigh to my knee.
Love that flesh. Make love to it with your tongue and lips.
Stiffen your tongue when you do. Now, back up to my balls, and around and around. Now, hold my cock with two fingers, just to steady it, and start licking up from the root of it. Stay on the underside of it. That's right. That's the sensitive part. At the ridge there, work on that part of it with your lips and tongue. Ooh! baby. Now you're on your own.
I went over and over and over the routine again and again, eliciting exclamatory sighs and moans, noting each time the part of his body that seemed to be most sensitive, I loved the smell of his crotch, sniffing in the thick hair, catching strands of hair in my teeth and drawing them up from the flesh. Oh, the joys I'd been missing all these years My lips closed over the swollen crown, now dripping with sweet dew. My tongue and lips were making love to this tender flesh, and I gulped great lengths of it into my greedy mouth, biting it tenderly, sucking, working it up and down, up and down. I had my fingers in the crack of his ass, feeling the pulsing of his prostate. My middle finger slid up and touched his anus, which twitched on contact.
Surprised, I pushed. The puckering string relaxed and then closed around the tip of my finger. His hips were rotating now, his hands were in my hair. Moaning sounds broke the quiet. Suddenly he tensed, then thrust his cock up into my mouth. I felt his asshole clamp around my finger, then great pulsing throbs in his prostate, up into his balls, and the rush of his semen against the pressure of my lips around his cock, then the geyser-like spurts up against the roof of my mouth and my throat.
It tasted warm and salt-sweet. It tasted good. It tasted so good that I was loath to let go of it, rolling it in my mouth as it shrunk, my tongue caressing it. Finally, I let it slip gently out of my mouth to lie, limp and flaccid, on the nest above his balls. Kissing them again I nuzzled a loving good-bye into the tender flesh of his thighs and crotch and moved up to lie beside him. "How did I do, Master?"
He put his arm around me, cupped my left breast and pulled my head to him. Then he roared with laughter. "No offense, my darling, but I think you're a born cocksucker." His lips closed over mine and his tongue thrust stiffly into my mouth. His fingertips moved lightly over my back, over my ass-cheeks, around to my belly and back up to my breast.
"Heh!" I said, holding back from him. "You scared the devil out of me at first. I thought you'd gone crazy, putting those cuffs on me. I felt like a nut tied up in a crack house."
"You've never heard of 'bondage'?"
"What's that?"
He raised up on an elbow, frowned as he studied me. "My God! Your sex education has been neglected. The only thing you've actually experienced up till now has been intercourse, right?"
"Yes." I tugged lightly at his chin whiskers. "That's all I'd ever have known if it hadn't been for these."
"You're going to get them in a minute. You've earned the full treatment, honey. About those cuffs. Haven't you heard that some people like to be hurt before they have an orgasm?"
"Yes."
"And some people like to be tied up during sexual play?" "No."
"Tell me honestly, Jan, would you have gone down on me if I hadn't tied you up at first?" "Maybe. I can't really say."
"I figured you had no experience with off-beat sex-I don't know how I guessed that. And I thought it would take something unusual to get you started right. Sex should be thoroughly understood in all of its aspects, and enjoyed in all its variations with intelligence and enthusiastic appreciation. No phase of it should be entered into out of idle curiosity, or to pass an otherwise empty hour. Do I make myself clear? " "Perfectly." I kissed the fingers of the hand that was caressing my breast.
"The minute I met you, Jan, I felt the spark of a deep-seated sex drive in you, a desire to explore, and to broaden your enjoyment of sex. Maybe I'm a bit psychic . . . anyway, you're here, and I'm delighted. Now you lie back and relax. I'm going into the bathroom for a minute. When I return, you be ready for sensory delights you could never even imagine: And that's a promise."
In his absence, I lay staring at my reflection in the mirror, awakening every nerve in my body to a tingling anticipation of the joyous delights to come. I was so happy it was Don who would initiate me into all these erotic pleasures. How narrow had been the horizons of sexual pleasure which had been delineated by Jim's and my own tenuous experience. And I was glad now, on reflection, that Helen Conrad had been the first to induce Jim to eat pussy ... I only hoped her instruction had been as masterful as Don's in teaching me to suck cock. Mmm! I had enjoyed that. I hoped I would have another lick at it before the day's end. And I felt sure I thoroughly grasped the purpose and the advantages of swapping . . . despite my experience with poor pimple-prick Freddie. Maybe I should have taken his little pecker up my rectum, but even his was considerably larger than my middle finger. I had never thought of the anus as a source of sexual pleasure, yet I had been astonished at the twitching response I had felt there with Don during his orgasm. I wondered how it would feel... would it hurt? I must ask Don. I wanted to experience every sensual joy that erotic artistry could offer.
Don lay down beside me. "Jan, honey, I hope you're ready for this."
I kissed his eyelids and his ears. "I've been wanting this for years, waiting. I'm waiting now. Love me, Don, kiss me all over. Make me come like I've never come before."
Raising up on his elbow, he held my chin between his thumb and his forefinger, and smiled. "You're an apt pupil, honey. Pay attention to everything I do, and the way I do it. You should use the same technique the next time you go down on a man."
"Can I do it to you right after?"
He laughed. "We'll see."
His lips were gentle as those of a baby rabbit, nibbling at my earlobes, my eyelids, my cheeks, down the side of my throat, out onto my shoulders, then to my armpit. His tongue, now a stiff wet brush, works in tiny circles down the muscle at the outside of my breast, leaving a trail of fiery excitation. In the mirror overhead, I watch his every move, mentally noting the sensitive areas his loving tongue and lips explore, yet still consciously aware of the sensual delights which they excite. I didn't know there were so many areas of my body so susceptible of pleasant stimulation. At his gentle urging, I roll over on my stomach, and feel the brush of his beard and his tongue and lips up and down my back, down into my sacral dimples, around and around, and onto my buttocks, muscles quivering as his teeth bite gently, then down my legs all the way, even tickling the soles of my feet. My nerves and flesh have never been so alive, vibrant, tingling. At the touch of his fingertips, I roll onto my back, and his lips are nibbling his love around the aureoles of my breasts and nipples, suckling them, mouthing, sucking down into my belly, lingering around and about my navel.
Spasms of delight shiver across the flatness of my belly. He lies between my spread legs now, his lips loving the flesh of my thighs, up from the knees and I watch in the mirror the thrust of my mound upwards as his mouth tantalizes my cuntal lips with light caressing kisses. Bending my knees, I plant the soles of my feet on the bed, close to my buttocks and observe the mirrored reflection of his dark head as it works down the inside of my thighs. I feel his lips nibbling into the sides of my cunt and the brush of his beard on the tender flesh below. His hands are under my ass-cheeks, his thumbs gentle in the hair of my crack, circling my twitching anus. I raise my legs straight up as his nose nuzzles into my slit. His tongue is laving the inside of my vulval lips, and at last, his beard touches with a feathery lightness the sensitive skin below.
My sphincter is in spasms as his beard brushes across my rectum. Ooh! Every sensual delight I have been imagining surges through every perineal nerve. "Ooh, my darling!" I whisper, "I love it, I love it." I feel his thumb wetting itself in the lower lips of my vagina, then sliding back "to my anus, pressuring the ring, urging, urging, and suddenly, I feel his thick thumb enter, slide up into my rectum to its root, rubbing the walls in stimulating massage. I think how good that feels, as I consciously clamp my sphincter tightly around it. The bridge of his nose pressure! my clitoris as his tongue and lips work with loving caresses on the inside of my cunt. My legs drop over his back and I pull my slit up into his face. I am on fire. All over. Every nerve alive. Currents of joy are flowing through me, building a fierce tension, mounting until I can bear it no longer. Clamping his head with my thighs, I stop rolling my ass for a moment and feel his mouth like a great vacuum in my open cunt. Then I lose myself in a wild torrent of joyful release.
When I open my eyes, Don is lying on his back beside me.
"Kneel over me, honey. I want to get the last drops."
Kneeling over him, I look down into his smiling face, lean over to kiss his lips, savoring the sweet taste and aroma of my juices, a filmy wetness about his mouth. Then I lower my slit over his opened mouth. In the wall mirror, I watch myself as I move gently back and forth, guided by his tongue, lips, and his suckling, feeling the surge of tingling delights that rise through belly muscles up into ray breasts and nipples. His palms are gripping my ass-cheeks, pulling me down onto his face, guiding and directing my every move. I feel the currents flowing again, rebuilding and I find myself in the tense grip of another orgasmic prelude. Then I explode again in a burst of furious joy.
We lie quietly for some time, my head cradled on hi shoulder, my hand idly trailing over his hairy chest and belly, down to his genitals. His prick is stiff and straight! my hand, and I giggle. "Honey, he's ready. Shall I eat him again?"
"Maybe later, baby. Right now, let's try something else I bet you've never done."
"Like what?"
"On your feet, baby." Rising, I stepped into his opened arms, and we kissed. His hands went under my buttocks, lifting me up. "Put your legs around my hips," he said. "Now, put it in."
Holding my ass away from him, I wet the head of his cock in my pussy, then guided it in, settling down on it gently.
"You ever been laid like this?" "No. It's fun, though."
I watched our reflection in the wall mirrors, as he carried me about, his cock working up in me with each step. He stopped a few feet from the wall, turned his back to the mirror, then placing his hands under the small of my back, he suggested I lean backwards. "Look in the mirror." I leaned my head to the right, as Don spread his legs and bent over me. "What do you see?"
I giggled. "Your balls dangling. And your asshole."
He pulled me back up. "How do you like this?"
"Fine. When I bent back, I felt your cock touch parts of my insides that I never knew I had."
He carried me back to the bed, still impaled on his prick. "Do you want me to come like this?"
I hesitated. "Don. You had your thumb in my rectum before, didn't you?"
"Yes. Did you like it?"
"Yes."
"So?"
"I was wondering ..." "Want to try it?" "Will it hurt?" "No. If it hurts, I'll stop." "I want to try it."
Lifting me up, he set me down on the bed. "Just a minute." He went into the bathroom and returned shortly. I "Kneel on the floor, Jan, and bend over on the bed. Spread your legs." I felt his fingers massaging around my rectum "What's that, Vaseline?" "Yes. Now, honey, just relax."
He was kneeling between my legs and I felt his hand guiding his cock up to my anus, which tightened at the first contact. "Relax, honey. It won't hurt." I felt the pressure of the swollen crown, pushing, pressing, then suddenly felt the big thing slide in.
"Oh!" I gasped.
He held perfectly still. "Are you all right, Jan, honey?' Sweat broke out on my forehead. I bit into the sheet "Oh! Oh! Don. I don't think I can take it."
"Don't move, honey. Relax."
"I'm afraid I'm split down there."
"No, no. Everything's all right. Relax now."
I felt his cock move slowly up into my rectum and the pain subsided. And now, his belly presses against my buttocks, spreading them as his stiff prick fills my cavity with a throbbing liveliness. I feel his hairy chest on the tender skin of my back, and his fingers massaging my lower belly.
"Is that better?"
"Yes." His fingers are working deftly in my cunt separating the lips, gently titivating my clitoris while the crown of his cock swells and throbs within me. I move my ass back against his belly, tighten my sphincter around his hard flesh. It feels strange, but it's beginning to feel good, want to kiss him, but his lips are busily nibbling on my back. I reach down to clasp his hand and bring it to my lips leaving the other to trace circles of maddening delight around my joybud. My face pressed into the sheet, I reach back with both hands to feel his ass-cheeks, and thrill to the working of their muscles. His withdrawal stroke sends little shivers of joy through me, and as the bulbous head reached within an inch of the opening, I clamp it tightly in my sphincteral grasp.
"You learn fast, honey. That's the way. How do you like this?"
"Fine. Oh, Don! I love everything you've done to me today. Give it to me, darling. Shove it up my ass. Good!"
My God! Was this me talking? I had never used those words before. Somehow, they seemed the only appropriate words. They added to the erotic delights of this most bizarre performance. By the third or fourth thrust of Don's prick, I had already learned to synchronize the use of my sphincter at the top and the bottom of his movement. His strokes have become more forceful and I enjoy the sound and the feel of his belly slamming into my ass, faster now, faster and faster. I feel myself on the verge of a climax, and suddenly we both moan in ecstasy as my cunt weeps into the palm of his hand and his semen spurts into me. Then the hard swollen mass within me shrinks and I feel its soft pulpiness withdraw to a plopping exit.
"Now we shower quickly, honey," Don said, picking me up in his arms. In the bathroom, he sits on the stool, and pulls me down in his lap, facing him, my legs outside of his thighs. "Damn! Darling, you're wonderful. I wouldn't believe anyone could be so marvelous the first time."
"Thank you, Don, for everything. I've loved every minute."
"Now how do you like swapping?"
"I haven't lived until today. Intercourse has been wonderful, but I had no idea there was so much fun to be had from sex." His tongue was making wet circles around my nipples. "Careful, darling, you'll get me hot again and we have to shower, first. But first, ahead of that, you'll have to get up. I have to pee."
"Go ahead and pee." "On you?"
"Yes, I like it."
"I don't know . . . I've got a full bladder." "Please, I love it."
Snuggling close to him, I started the flow, felt it splash, warm and tingling off his pubes onto my lower belly, then trickle down my thighs and into the toilet. All the while, Don was passionately sucking at my nipples. Another strange delight, I thought. If someone had told me about such things, I should have probably turned away in disgust. Yet, here I was actually doing them, and finding them deeply thrilling and delightful.
We showered together, finding childish joy in soaping each other's sexual parts. I noted the soap had the same fragrance I had detected on Jim last night. So, he had had his indoctrination course in this same laboratory!
I fixed grilled cheese sandwiches and hot tea for a quick lunch, finding another thrill eating this snack with a man in the nude.
I was surprised to learn that it was only half past one. With so many new and fascinating experiences, I had thought it well into the late afternoon. We went back to bed and I spent the next hour giving Don a thorough tongue bath, following his minute directions as to sensitive areas, and the proper use of tongue and lips, ending up by earnestly and joyously kissing and mouthing and loving his cock, thinking, as his tremendous flow of semen spurted into my thirsting mouth, that I already matched Lydia Nelson's enjoyment of this activity, if not her ability.
We ended my first session of instruction in the artistry of off-beat sex, by Don's repetition of his dexterity in cunnilingus. All in all, this had been the most exhausting, but by far the most exciting and delightful, day of my life.
At four-ten, I passed through the reception room downstairs, nodding good-bye to the blonde Marcy. I thought her smile unusually friendly and quite knowing. Undoubtedly, she too knew the thrills awaiting for any girl who spent time in the sex-room of mirrors. I wondered if she too liked it up the ass.
I didn't get away from Milt Hubbard's plant until five-thirty. Milt drove me downtown to the suburban station on Randolph Street, and I just made the six-ten special. The day was so filled with conferences, and meeting his executive personnel, going over the company's product lines, and advertising budgets, that I had had no chance to call Jan. I had so much to tell her, that I was looking forward to a good steak dinner, having a drink or two, then home to bed for fun and frolic. On arrival home at seven, I was surprised to find the house dark. There was a light on in the bedroom. I found her already in bed, sound asleep. Leaning over, I kissed her lightly on the lips. Her eyes opened and she yawned.
"Hi, Jim."
"Hi, hon. I thought you'd be already, dressed and rarin' to go. Don't you feel well, dear?"
"I've had a headache all afternoon. Have you had dinner?"
"No. I thought we'd eat out tonight."
"You go. If you don't mind, I'd like to sleep."
"Okay." I leaned over and kissed her eyelids closed. "Good night, darling." She was snoring lightly by the time I reached the door into the hallway. Out in the kitchen, I made myself an omelet and a cup of tea. Damn it! I thought, she would have a headache tonight, the first one I could remember in two years or more. And I'd had such big plans. I knew she'd be thrilled when I told her of the possibilities in the Hubbard account. After a good dinner, a couple of drinks, we would return home in a festive mood. I had planned to give in to her request for a little variation in our sex activities tonight. I had worked it all out so carefully so as not to go too far the first time, nor let her know how much I had learned of the art and the joy of eating pussy. I put the dishes in the sink, turned out the kitchen light.
Standing beside the bed, I looked down at her, sleeping peacefully, her face so relaxed, her lips parted in a joyful smile.
She looks like an angel, I thought.
V
The salivating odor of frying bacon awakened me. Jan was not in bed. I put on slippers and a robe, and padded out to the kitchen, to find her turning bacon in the skillet.
"Good morning, honey." She turned to me with a smile. "I was just about to call you."
With my left arm around her shoulder, I slipped my right hand into the fold of her housecoat and cupped her breast. "Feeling better? " I brushed a kiss across her cheek.
"I feel fine this morning. Drink your orange juice. I'll have your eggs ready in a minute."
Seated in the breakfast nook, I studied her every graceful movement, the fresh beauty of her scrubbed skin, the smooth flow of her long blonde hair. What a joy it was going to be to initiate her into the delights of cunnilingus.
"You look lovelier than I can remember, darling," I said as she placed a plate of bacon and eggs before me, "so ... so rested."
"How nice," she replied, seating herself opposite me. "Thank you, honey. I feel wonderful."
"This is Wednesday, isn't it? How about a steak dinner out tonight? " "Fine. I'll be dressed and ready when you get home."
As soon as I reached the office at a little after nine, I had a short meeting with two of the senior partners on the prospective Hubbard account, and received an okay to go all out in the preparation of a complete presentation. For the next hour. I was busy going over catalogs of Hubbard's products with Bill Alton, head of market research, and Joe Phillips, chief of the copy department.
Don Ashby called at eleven. He wanted to know if Jan and I could attend a special meeting at his studio at seven o'clock tonight. He had contacted all other members of the group, and they had all agreed to be there. The purpose of the meeting was to discuss a replacement for Fred and Lydia Nelson, who were moving out to the west coast. I told him I was quite sure Jan and I could make it.
Not sure of Jan's reaction to continuance in the group -after her experience that first night, I phoned her immediately, prepared to do a selling job in case of a negation. I was surprised at her immediate acceptance, and suggested she meet me in the lobby downstairs at five-thirty. For a minute or two after hanging up, I wondered about Jan's reason for wanting to continue in the group. Unlike me, with a satisfying and delightful experience of bedding down with Helen and a raging desire to repeat it, she'd had nothing from the group but Freddie. She must be hopeful that the next pairing would bring her together with someone more interesting, I decided. I was too busy the rest of the day to give it more thought.
At five-thirty, I stepped off the elevator to find Jan waiting. My God! How lovely, I thought, as I approached her. She wore a dress she'd bought last week, a nubbed silk ensemble in pale yellow, with a sapphire brooch that matched the sparkle in her blue eyes.
"Heh!" I said, brushing a kiss on her cheek, "you look like a young girl I met four years ago. You're lovely."
"What time are we due at Don's?" "Seven. We'll have dinner first. I don't know how long these meetings last."
"Where are we going to eat?"
I took her arm and we started for the cab stand outside. "To a little restaurant I know. I'm sure you'll like it. Every lovely blonde I take to dinner, I always go there." Outside, I put her in a cab, then gave the driver an address on Rush Street before I got in.
As I paid the driver and helped her out of the cab in front of the small cafe, she glanced at the entrance, then chirped out a gay little laugh. "I remember this place."
"I thought you would. How come we never came back here? As I remember, the last time I was here, the evening turned out to be a delightful one." I held the door open for her.
She grinned. "The last time I was here was four years ago. I'll never forget it. I was raped that night by a tall blond with the biggest prick in town."
Throughout dinner, her gaiety was light and infectious. Maybe it was the two martinis, maybe the remembrance of our first date-whatever it was, I had never seen her so happy and light-hearted.
In the cab, on the way to Don's studio, I told her about the job of remodeling he had done, omitting to mention the mirrored bedroom. She said she'd be delighted to see it, and was glad he was having the meeting there.
Don met us in the reception room. "You're a little late, you two. Everybody else is here. Anyway, welcome to my den of iniquity."
They were all gathered in the living room, the men in business suits, the women in short, summery dresses. Joe Hagen had a drink in his hand, which he offered to Jan. "You look stunning, honey." She moved away from the hand he placed on her buttock.
"No, thanks. No more to drink tonight."
Greg Orr I wondered why the group tolerated this crude little bastard. The Hubbards and the Leflers greeted us warmly. Helen Conrad was friendly but distant.
"All right everybody, let's get down to business. Does anybody have a couple they wish to nominate for admittance to the group?" He waited. No one spoke up. "I have a couple I wish to recommend for your consideration. They are very dear friends of mine. They're not married, but they've been going together for over a year. She's a very beautiful girl with a magnificent figure. I've used her as a model a number of times. The man has been a close friend of mine for the past six years. He was a star athlete in college and is now a successful insurance man. I first met him when he was a junior. He also has posed for ads for a number of my accounts." "They sound like a very desirable addition to the group, Don," Milt broke in. "When can we meet them?"
"Well," Don replied, "I have some large color shots of both of them. I thought you could look them over and then decide."
As Don walked over to the fireplace and took down two batches of photographs, I knew he was building up to something, but I couldn't figure out what it was.
'I'm going to give each man here a picture of the woman, and each woman a picture of the man. I'll hand them to you face down, and I ask that you wait to turn them over until I have completed the distribution."
Tension built in the room as Don passed among the men and women. Each of them dutifully laid the eight by ten photograph face down, awaiting Don's signal.
Standing before the fireplace, Don raised both hands. "Friends, the photos you hold are pictures of two of my dearest and closest friends. I earnestly urge that you welcome them into our little group. Okay, turn them over."
There were startled gasps from several of the women, and complete silence from the men.
"My God! He's a nigger!" Rose Hubbard blurted aloud. She quickly raised the palm of her hand to her mouth.
In the shocked silence, Don's voice was calm and cold with controlled rage. "Rose, your choice of both expletive and descriptive term was most unfortunate. If you knew this man as I have known him, you would have said instead, Thank God! He's a gentleman.' " "Don, I'm sorry. I apologize."
He ignored her remark. "When I joined this group a year ago, you all told me of your dedication to the destruction of the old shibboleths, the acceptance of the new morality. Well, ladies and gentlemen, the new morality means nothing to me, unless it is founded on the principle of the acceptance of the individual for his worth and his human dignity, and to hell with his color or his creed. I'll leave you alone to make your decision. I feel very strongly about this."
"Don! Wait!" Jan called out. Everybody turned toward her.
"Don's right." She held up the photograph. "I've never met him, but he looks like a gentleman, and on Don's recommendation, I should very much like to meet him. You told Jim and me on our first night with you, that it was all important that a new couple in the group spend their first night in the same room with their partners whom chance assigned to them. This is supposed to show that the new couple has accepted a complete break with the old code. Much more meaningful, I think, would be acceptance of this couple into the group."
"Jan's right," I said, looking up from the photograph in my hand. "This woman must be one of the most charming and warm personalities one could expect to meet. What's her name, Don?"
"Marie Dulong. The man's name is Gossard Jenkins."
"I remember him," Paul said. "Goss, the hoss. All-conference halfback a few years ago."
Joe Hagen held the photograph above his head. "I don't give a damn what anybody else says, I vote yes, yes, yes."
"How about you women? " Don asked.
"I'm willing, if Joe thinks it's all right," Alicia Hagen said.
"You know you have my vote," Helen broke in, then added, "I've known them both for over a year. They're delightful people."
"I take it you vote yes, Jan?"
Jan nodded.
Marge Lefler spoke up. "Paul and I have had several black friends ever since our college years. I'm sure it's all right with Paul, and certainly with me."
There was silence for a moment as all turned to look at Rose. But Milt spoke. "She's a very charming person, I'm sure. I agree with Jim. Rose and I vote yes. When are we going to meet them? " "Everyone's agreed then?" Don's glance passed slowly over everyone in the room. "Thank you, my friends. I felt so certain of your affirmative vote that I asked them to wait downstairs. I'll bring them right up."
In Don's brief absence, Rose sat stiff and silent, her head lowered, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I overheard Alicia's whispered question of Marg, "Have you ever been in bed with one?" Marg's reply was drowned out by Joe's loud laugh and loud remark, "Goddamn! I could really go for a piece of that tonight!"
The door opened and Don ushered his two friends into the room. "Folks, these are my two very dear friends, Marie Dulong and Goss Jenkins. Will you please introduce yourselves as they walk by you?"
I had taken a quick glance at the man, tall, brown-skinned, with an athlete's grace of posture and movement, but I concentrated on the woman. I had to. Her dark eyes and warm smile radiated an irresistible charm that not only fascinated the men, but enchanted the women as well. As I took her hand in friendly clasp, I was intrigued by the alluring cleft of her breasts, her light, toffee-colored skin, and her coral aureoles barely visible beneath a white, crocheted-eyelet dress. I thought, how I wish you and I were playing games tonight! Milt was standing next to me. As I shook hands with Gossard, I noted with a sideways glance that Milt took her hand in both of his, running his left hand up her arm while he kissed her cheek and whispered something in her ear.
Don was standing in front of the fireplace, and called for attention. "This isn't one of our regular nights for games so perhaps some of the ladies present aren't prepared. But, now that we know each other, maybe we might want to indulge in some extracurricular fun. How about it? " "Not tonight," Rose said sharply. "Milt has to get up early."
"Nonsense. I have nothing important in the morning. Let's play tonight," Milt answered.
"You'll have to excuse us," Marg said. "We'd love to stay, but this is one of those days."
"We'll have to go too," Alicia added, "and for the same reason, damn it. You all have fun. Come on, Joe."
"Shit!" Joe muttered in a hoarse whisper.
After showing the Leflers and Hagens out, Don returned, and picked up a deck of cards. He shuffled them five or six times, then handed them to Milt to cut. "Tonight, the high and the low cards match up. The holder of the high card uses the mirrored bedroom, the next two higher cards win the bedrooms on the second floor, and the holder of the lowest card uses the studio. Okay?"
"How about ties? " Milt asked.
"They draw a second time."
As Don spread the pack, offering a choice to each one, I glanced at Rose. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and her hand trembled as she reached out to choose a card.
"And I'll take one. Now, who has an ace? Nobody? A king?"
"I have," Jan called, holding the card above her head. "Any man have a deuce?"
After a short pause, Gossard held his card up. "I have."
I glanced quickly at Jan and noted her face pale. "My God!" I whispered, then looked about. Apparently, no one had heard me. Could she go through with it? Could I let her go through with it? I tried to catch her eye, but she was looking down at her card.
"Jan and Gossard win the big bedroom. Okay, kids."
I watched them disappear behind the bedroom door, listening to the click as it closed. My palms were wet and large beads of perspiration stood out on my forehead. I looked up to see a vicious smile part Rose Hagen's lips.
"A queen anybody? No? A Jack?"
"Here." Milt held his card up.
"Any woman have a deuce? No, excuse me, a trey?"
"That's me," Marie called out.
"Heh!" Milt cried exultantly, "my lucky night."
Rose Hagen s mouth twisted with quiet rage.
"Okay, Milt and Marie, off with you downstairs."
Rose trembled as she watched them leave. I feared she was about to scream.
"Jim, do you have a ten?" I shook my head 'no'.
"A nine? No? I have a nine."
Helen held up a four, Rose a six, and I displayed a six.
"Helen and I take the other bedroom downstairs. Jim, you and Rose have the studio all to yourselves."
"How about bath facilities?" I asked.
"There's a shower back of the kitchen. I forgot to show it to you the other day. Helen, why don't you go downstairs? I'll be with you shortly. Come on, you two." He led the way into the studio. A clean white sheet covered the studio couch; a pillow lay at one end, and a folded blanket at the other. Don opened a door just beyond the refrigerator, and turned on the wall switch. The small room Swapper's Rights 83 contained a toilet, wash stand, and a shower. On the mirror of the medicine chest over the washbowl was a small lettered sign: All games over at 11 p.m. Assemble in living room for sandwiches.
"You had this all planned," I commented.
"Yes." He opened the medicine chest door. "Even to basic necessities." His finger pointed to a jar of Vaseline on the shelf. "Have fun."
VI
"Light me a cigarette, will you, Jim? " I found an ash tray on the sink, lit a cigarette and brought it over to her. She was seated on a straight-backed chair in the middle of the room. Sitting on the bed facing her, I watched her puff shallowly, blowing out the smoke quickly. I doubted she had smoked more than two or three cigarettes in her life. Oblivious of the fact that her blue print dress was well above her knees, she sat with her legs spread, the white of the inside of her thighs showing up to her crotch. I looked away from the sight of black hairs sprouting from beneath her panties; despite our presence in this room as a couple paired for sex activities, it seemed indecent, somehow. I studied the lines in her face, pale and tense, as she sat staring down at her hands.
"Oh God! What would I have done if I'd been paired with him?" She was thinking aloud, not asking a question of me. "Goddamn him! How could he do this to me?"
I sat silent. I had my own black thoughts about the way the evening had turned out. Good God! My Jan in bed with a....
"I'm sorry, Jim." She rose, walked over to the bed, and turned her back. "My zipper."
Standing up, I turned her around and held my hands on her shoulders. "Look, Rose. You're in no mood for games. Let's just sit here and talk."
Raising her head, she looked at me with anguish in her eyes. The torment in her mind had deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and added age lines to her face. Her lips parted in an attempted smile. "The name of the game is swap. We both have something to regret in this tonight, but that doesn't change the rules. My zipper, please."
I stood aside as she went through the mechanical motions of undressing. She had become so lost in thought that she failed to notice that I had as yet made no move to take off my clothes. Not until she lay naked in the bed did she glance at me.
"Well," she sighed, "don't you want me either?"
"Of course, Rose. I'm sorry. I'll be right with you."
How different this is from last Monday's session with the lovely Helen Conrad. I kept my glance fastened on the oil painting on the wall above the couch, contrasting the painted curves so lush, the firm full breasts and hips, with the slender figure before me, the breasts small, but baggy nonetheless, the skeletal rib cage and hip bones unfleshed, and the eyes-a lively emerald green in the painting, a dull, lifeless blue in Rose's pale face . .. lifeless blue until I slipped out of my shorts. Then they opened wide with shock.
"My God! You're enormous!" She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. "Oh, I can never take that."
I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her brow. "Come now, Rose. You're a big girl. I'm not that big."
"Hasn't anyone told you about me?"
"I hope it isn't the custom in the group for members to discuss anything that goes on in these private sessions."
"No, but... I... I only have anal intercourse."
"Don't you have a son about fifteen ... isn't he at some military school? " "Yes. The doctor cautioned me then that if I ever got pregnant again, I'd die. Milt and I started anal intercourse then. I wouldn't dare try the other."
"But the pill ... " "I still wouldn't trust it. Besides, I ... well, I've gotten used to the other ..."
"I've never tried it up the ass . . . pardon me, I mean, I've never tried it that way." I lay down beside her, and, as my cock touched her thigh, it started to harden. "We can just lie here for a while, Rose." I kissed her breasts, not trying to rouse her, rather, just because they were there, they were breasts, and it seemed that I had nothing else to do. I wondered what my Jan was doing at the moment. I had tried to keep her out of my mind. Damn this swapping, I thought. But the image of Marie and of Helen popped into my mind-a fair swap for my Jan, I had to admit.
I became aware of Rose's hand on my cock. "Gee! It's big when it swells up! That would really fill me up inside. Do you suppose we could get it in?"
"I doubt it."
"Could we try? Please, Jim?"
"I'll get the Vaseline. Just a minute." She scrambled over me, hurried into the bathroom and was out in a minute. "Let's see, where's a good place?" She glanced about the room. "The sink's too high, the couch too low. This chair. The back's the right height."
"How the hell you going to do it in that chair? " "Jim!" She laughed with a real note of merriment. "Not in the chair. I'll bend over the chair. Here, let me grease this up." She spread a layer of Vaseline around the head of my cock and down the shaft. Then she squatted and spread Vaseline around her anus. Bending forward over the back of the chair, she rested both hands on the seat and spread her feet. "Now, Jim, let's try it. Be very careful. Don't get the head of it near my pussy. And don't push too hard."
Looking at the greased crack of her ass and my thick stiff prick glistening like a channel swimmer ready for takeoff, I felt like a naughty little boy caught with his pants down and playing with himself. I found her asshole with my middle finger. It felt loose and large, well-used. Her hands came around her hips to pull her ass-cheeks apart. I pressed the slippery head of my cock up to it and pushed gently.
"Easy, please. Oh, that feels good. Maybe it'll go in. Wait. Let me relax. Now push, a little harder. Oh, wait. Now, try again."
I felt a good part of the head go in. "Is it all right?" I asked anxiously. "I don't want to hurt you."
She grunted. "Almost that time. Now, try again. Push. Harder."
I rammed at it and felt the head of it slide in as she cried out I remained motionless, fearful I'd hurt her.
'It's in. Oh, what a big one!" Her right hand reached back to pat my hip affectionately. "Oh, Jim, that feels wonderful. Push it all in."
"Are you sure it's all right?"
"Yes. I love it. Give it to me in slow easy strokes. Ooh!" she sighed as my belly came up to mash against her ass, "ooh! I've never had a cock this big in me. Wonderful!"
Her ass was working with me now, pushing back against my belly as I shoved it in to her, pulling away as I backed off. Her sphincter was like the hand of an expert, clamping around the head and the base of my prick alternately. Reaching under her belly, I worked my fingers into her pubic hair, found the parting of her cuntal lips and massaged the base of her clitoris. In a matter of minutes, I felt her tense, then thrust her pubes forward, and her sphincter clamp around my cock as she moaned and thrashed in orgasmic release.
"I'm sorry, Jim. It came on me all of a sudden." She thrust her ass-cheeks back against me. I'm glad you haven't come yet. Ooh! I cant tell you how much I'm enjoying this."
"I am too, Rose. I never thought I would. But it's real great" She came again and once again, before I finally felt the fires rage out of control in me and burst through my balls and my cock in great eruptions of hot semen somewhere within her.
Swapping had its good points too, I decided, quite pleased with my first experience in buggery. But then, where the devil would I find another anal aperture equally capable of receiving this oversized appendage of mine the next time it sought the back road?
VII
When Gossard held up his card and said he had a deuce, I very nearly fainted. I didn't dare look at Jim. My little speech in support of Don's plea for admittance of two Negroes in our swap group had blurted out of me on the spur of the moment, fired mostly by Rose's contemptuous remark about another human being. I have always had a profound respect for the human dignity of man, regardless of the color of his skin. And I had been intrigued by the warmth of personality and the handsome appearance of the man in the photograph, had even wondered what it would be like to go to bed with him. I had no idea we were to play sex games tonight; I was looking forward to discussing the matter with Jim on the way home-how would he feel if I were to draw Gossard at our next regular meeting? When Don dismissed us to the mirrored bedroom, I didn't think my wobbly legs would get me as far as the door.
Inside the room, with the door clicked shut behind me, I felt trapped. To give myself a few minutes to recover, I excused myself and entered the bathroom, closing the door. Sitting on the toilet, I stared at myself in the wall mirror opposite. My God! Can I go through with it? I looked at the smooth white skin of my arms and legs and imagined them entwined around his brown body. And I'd be seeing myself in mirrors everywhere I looked. How could I gracefully get out of this? His lips on mine? His dark cock buried in me? Five minutes must have gone by while I sat hopelessly muddling this over. All I could do, I decided, was to go out and talk to him frankly and explain my mixed feelings. Flushing the toilet to explain my delay, I went into the bedroom. Gossard was standing by the door to the living room. He smiled shyly as I approached him.
"Jan, I can understand how you feel. Please believe me, I shall not feel hurt if you tell me you'd rather not go through with this. I'd be delighted just to sit here and talk to you for a couple of hours." His lips parted in a very warm smile. "It isn't often I get the opportunity to enjoy a long conversation with a lovely, bright young lady."
There was a magnetism in his smile and his deep voice that pierced the foggy indecision of my mind. "What do your friends call you? " "Goss. Rhymes with hoss."
"Kiss me, Goss." His arms embraced me and his lips closed over mine, gently, without trace of passion. I waited, expecting his tongue to probe into my mouth, but his lips remained closed. Surprisingly too, his right hand didn't stray from the small of my back. Stepping back, I looked up into his eyes with gratefulness and tenderness. "Would you undress me, please? " He seemed to know where all the concealed zippers, hooks and fasteners were and the working of each. He hung each garment up as he removed it. I stood before him naked and he lifted me easily and deposited me on the bed. I watched him undress. The musculature of his arms, back and chest rippled with his every movement, sending riffles of pleasure through me. Finally, his back turned toward me, he dropped his shorts to reveal muscular thighs and buttocks. He was a magnificent man physically and, as he faced me, I saw he had the full manly complement to complete, the picture. His cock and balls were a match for my Jim's. I hoped Jim had been paired with Marie.
Goss lay down beside me, sliding his left arm under my boulders as our lips met in a warm loving kiss. The tip of my tongue ventured out to trace the outline of his lips and met the tip of his in a delicate thrust and parry. My left hand worked up his back to the nape of his neck and I pulled his face closer as my tongue thrust stiffly into his mouth. He answered my loving tongue with a throb of his huge, thick hard-on into my thigh, and I clung to him, working my titty up against his chest. The man had set very nerve tingling an answer to his warm love. Ooh! I could love this man. OOH! I do love him, OOh! I want to love him all over . . . want him to love me all over.
How much time do we have? I thought of the lettered sign on to be mirror of the cabinet in the bathroom: All games over at 11 p.m. Assemble in living room for sandwiches. "Goss, darling, what time is it? " Cocking his head to the left of my face, he glanced at his wrist watch. "Quarter to nine. You in a hurry, honey?" "Goodness no. There's a sign in the bathroom-we have to be in the living room for sandwiches at eleven." He brushed a kiss across my breast. "To hell with sandwiches. I have the most delicious meat in the world to at right here." His lips brushed down my breast and belly quickly to my pubic mound, then nibbled lightly over my clitoris, sending waves of rippling delights up to my breasts.
"Lie down up here, darling. Just lie still. I want to look us." We both looked up in the mirror, regarding the contrast in our pale and brown stretch of nakedness, my blonde hair spread on the white sheet, my pink aureoles and nipples centering the firm globes of my pale breasts, and the patch of pale gold of my pubic mound; and his nipples, dark pink, in his muscled chest, his dimpled navel in the middle of the flat plane of his belly, his huge thick prick, stiff and pink-capped, a teardrop glistening at the end of it. An hour and forty-five minutes-we'd need four or five hours to get in all the loving I wanted from him, and all I wanted to give him.
"You're thinking," he whispered, smiling up at me.
"Yes. I'm thinking we'll never get it all in tonight."
"No. That's hardly time enough to get started."
My brow furrowed as an idea came to mind.
"You're thinking again," he said with a laugh.
"Are you busy tomorrow, Goss?"
"I'm in business for myself, honey. I'll take the whole day off if you want me to."
"I want you to. Now, darling, love the hell out of me." As he raised up on his elbow to kiss my ears and eyebrows, I thought I'd worry about it later as to a place for a rendezvous. While his lips nibbled behind my ear, and his tongue followed by an exciting invasion into my ear, his fingertips trailed lightly across my eyebrows. Already I could feel the juices flowing in my slit. His tongue brushes down my carotid artery, timed to its pulse, down into my neck, and then his fingers nudging my arm, urging me to turn over.
I lie face down, feel the warmth of his buttocks on my thighs, and the wet slick of the head of his cock on my back as he bends over, his mouth a joy-producing instrument as it works on the soft skin of my back, gently nuzzling up and down in small circles that seem to touch every nerve, down to the small of my back and into the sacral dimples, stiff-tonguing, bringing to life sensory areas hitherto unknown. Down to my buttocks, nibbling, nuzzling, tonguing down into my crack, spreading my cheeks, goes his loving face, warm in my wet perineum, his tongue alive at my anus, and I find myself flipped over on my back, and his tongue is lapping at the lips of my cunt, up and around and around the hood of my clitoris, up over my mound, circling tightly over the outer edge of my belly, up and across and down the outer edge of the other side, back to my clitoris for a maddening minute, then up the center line to my navel.
All the while spasms of delight ripple through me. His lips make love to the tender skin there, then move up across my stomach, to the undersides of my breasts, trace the outer edges up to my armpits and back down and up in the cleft, nibbling and nuzzling my breasts like prized and precious sweets. On to the aureoles, tenderly tracing their outlines with soft tongue that climbs the small mounds of hardened nipples, suckling them lovingly, drawing them up to peaks in his lips, then mouthing down to gorge breast flesh. I hear myself moaning my joy, crying my love, as I feel his knees creeping up on either side, and I look down and his thick cock is in the cleft of my breasts and I press the sides of my breasts to lock his throbbing warmth between them.
Forcing my chin down, I can just see the swollen crown of his cock, dripping with glistening dew, and I open my mouth to tongue its sweetness. With my biceps pressuring against my breast to hold his throbbing cock a captive, I reach around his hips to clasp his buttocks and pull them forward. My lips enfold the coronal ridge, my tongue stiffly working at the sensitive underside.
"Careful, darling, you'll make me come."
I nod my head and suck it in deeper, suckling the warm, wet, throbbing flesh of him, feeling his pulsing manly hardness in my breasts and cleft, the tenseness gathering in his gluteal muscles, in the small of his back, as my hands caress his warm skin. His cock is working in the cleft of my breasts with a slow pulsing rhythm of short strokes because my mouth has swallowed half of this swollen flesh.
"You want me to come like this, darling? " I nod, unwilling to release his cock so my lips may speak. I feel him tense for a moment and I suckle to encourage his coming. I hear his soft inarticulate cry, coincident with the explosive throb in his balls on my chest. I feel the pulsing flow of his semen up his cock and the geyser spurts into my sucking, greedy mouth. I hold him there until I have taken the last drop and his cock falls limply onto my breast. He collapses beside me, and his lips seek mine, his tongue enters my mouth and my tongue laves his and loves it, sharing the viscid vestige of his juices.
"Ooh! You're really something." He is loving me through my skin, his nose and his lips and his tongue speaking a language into the acute nerve-ends in my cheeks. The knowledge of his love spreads instantly through every fibre of my being.
"Oh, lover, darling!" I whisper in his ear. "Where have you been all my life? Just the touch of your flesh on mine sets me afire. Kiss me, kiss me, love me, oh! love me!"
His lips are busy with my nipples, my breasts, my belly, leaving a trail of quivering nerves, down in my pubic hair, his nose spreading the cover from my clitoris. He lies between my outspread legs and I look up into the mirror to see his head moving up and down the inside of my thighs, trembling as his lips and mouth work at them with loving zeal, down into my crotch. His hands under my ass-cheeks raise my pubes, and, overhead, the reflection of my legs upraised, my blonde hair pale above his black curly hair as I feel his lips lapping the dew from cuntal lips, his nose pressed on my clitoris. His hands are brown against the pale white of my calves as he holds them up, bringing my ass up off the sheet. I feel his mouth in the warm wetness of my perineum, and his lips and tongue at my anus bringing it to twitching life, then back up to my cunt, suckling, sucking, all the while keeping pressure on my clitoris ooh! darling, darling ... I talk to him with my lips, making sounds of joyful love while my cunt flows with my love for him .. . from all over my body, his lingual call summons the flow of my love for him, in currents of ever-increasing strength to funnel at last in a great rushing torrent of impetuous delight emptying into the suction of his mouth.
I close my eyes, love-spent, at peace. I feel my love lying beside me, gentling me back to reality with light touch of fingertips.
He kisses me and I lave the lips and chin filmed with my juices his love has drawn from me.
We look up at our reflections, pleased with each other and ourselves, smiling our love, our joy and our satisfaction. With my fingertips, I trace the line of his jaw, and my lips brush my thankfulness on his eyelids, his lips. My breasts feel the ripple of his chest muscles as I lean over him, looking into the pools of his dark eyes, seeing the warm glow. "My darling, my darling," I whisper, "I love you. Ooh! I want more of you. I want you inside of me, that big fat cock of yours loving, spreading, throbbing up in me."
His lips enclose mine, his hands fondle the skin of my back and my buttocks with a magic touch that spreads warmth all through me. He rolls me over and I kiss his ear while I watch our reflection in the mirror, see my white thighs spread out from under his dark brown legs, his hand reach under his belly. I feel the head of his cock probing in the soaking slit of my crotch, then pressing in between the lips of my cunt, demanding entry, throbbing at the threshold. My knees raise up, spreading wider as the pressure of his cock increases. Suddenly, my cuntal lips enclose the coronal ridge and levator muscles close around it in loving welcome. "Kiss me, love," he says softly, holding it there. I open my mouth to his tongue as I release his cock and it pushes slowly into me, filling my vaginal barrel, swelling against the walls, sinking into my depths. My anus twitches a greeting to his balls. Nibbling at his ear, I can see our reflection again and I lift my legs up over the small of his back, pulling his cock into me. I thrill to the sight of his brown ass-cheeks as his gluteal muscles work rhythmically in slow thrust and withdrawal, my white legs meshed with his movements.
We hum a low joyous duet of tuneless sound as my ass rises to meet his loving thrust, clamps a ring of inner muscle around the base of his cock, my heels holding it deep within me while it throbs a kiss up beyond my uterus, then releasing to thrill to his bulging withdrawal until muscles clasp around the pulsing ridge ... ah! what delight! To enfold this happy, hardy lover, stirring from the depths of me waves of delirious joy in my breasts, my back, my belly, even down in my toes, calves, thighs. I feel the waves beginning to crest and roll and my legs over his back drag him into me in increasing tempo as I sense the fullness of my delight rushing through me and his answering thrusts pounding into me. My mouth opens to suck in his tongue and we come as one, his semen spurting into me as I thrash and roll and buck, releasing all tension in successive paroxysms of delirious joy.
"Oh, you precious, lovely thing, you!" He is kissing my nipples lightly, his fingers stroking my belly, while I trail idle fingers in a light caress down his back.
"What time is it, darling?"
"Ten-twenty, my sweet."
"Would you run water in the tub, please?"
"Certainly." He kissed me and was gone.
Where can I meet him tomorrow? A motel would be too dangerous. At his place? I didn't want to go into a colored neighborhood. Why not have him come out to the house?
"Okay, honey." He was back beside the bed. Stooping over, he lifted me as easily as I would a broom and carried me into the bathroom. The tub was a third full.
"That's enough water. I don't want to get my hair wet." While he turned off the taps, I sat on the toilet.
When he turned around and saw me, he grinned sheepishly. "Just a minute, honey, I'll leave."
"No. Come over here, please." I pulled him down, straddling my knees, and kissed his chest.
"I have to pee too."
"Go ahead, darling, I want to learn what it feels like." We kissed as our flow started together. His urine spread widely and warm over my pubic hair, down the sides of my crotch, trickling into my crack and dribbling into the bowl.
"Save some of yours for me," he said, standing up. When we had reversed positions, he put his arms around me. "I'll be damned. I never thought I'd find another person who enjoys this. Where did you learn it, honey? No," he chuckled, "don't answer that. Just pee." He nibbled at my nipples while I released the last of my urine. "Damn, I love the feel of that. Freud holds that it's a throwback to infantile joys. Whatever it is, I love it, and I'm glad to see that you do."
We had trouble getting into the tub together, with his long legs to accommodate, but we had as much fun as two kids splashing in the flow from a fire hydrant. We were dressed by ten to eleven.
"About tomorrow, can you come to my house, say at eight-thirty or nine? " "Jan, honey, do you think that's wise?"
"Yes. There will be nobody to bother us. We live on a secluded street on a corner lot. No one can see the driveway from next door or across the street. Drive up slowly. If the garage door is up, drive right in. I'll be watching for you, and close the door as soon as your car is in the garage. If the garage door is closed, it will mean that Jim hasn't left yet. Drive past for a mile or so, and come back in half an hour. Can you be there at nine?"
"Honey, right on the dot."
"Do you have a card and pen? Good. I'll write down the address. And here's the phone number. Be sure to call if you can't make it."
"I'll be there, darling." He kissed me on the cheek.
There was no one in the living room at eleven, but within minutes, Don entered, followed by a white-coated waiter, carrying a large tray of coffee pots and sandwiches. Helen came in a few minutes later. We were all hungry and Don urged us to help ourselves.
In about fifteen minutes, Jim and Rose entered from the studio. I was disappointed to learn that Jim had not paired up with Marie. He appeared solemn and Rose looked as though she had been crying. Good Lord! I thought, I hope that big prick of his hadn't hurt her. Jim came over to the coffee table, smiled a greeting to me, rather sickly, I thought, and shrugged his shoulders slightly. He helped himself to a sandwich and coffee and sat down on the sofa beside me. Rose seated herself in a chair in the corner, but she refused Don's offer to bring her a sandwich.
I leaned close to Jim. "You didn't hurt her, did you, dear? " I whispered.
"No. I'll explain later."
With Rose watching the door in glum silence, the atmosphere became tense and explosive. Finally, at ten to twelve, Milt and Marie made their appearance.
"Sorry, folks, I guess we're late. My watch must have stopped. Anybody got the right time?" Milt's voice and manner were overly casual.
"Help yourselves to sandwiches and. coffee on the table,"Don suggested.
"Thanks," Milt replied, "but Rose and I have to run. Don, this was a lovely evening, an extra dividend, so to speak. Why don't you all come out to our house Saturday night? Are you all agreed? " No one objected.
"Fine, then, our place, eight o'clock, Saturday. Come on, Rose. Good night, everybody." Nodding her head slightly, she followed him out.
Helen Conrad sat down in the lounge chair to my right and as we started on the subject of women's clothes, Jim excused himself, filled his coffee cup, then walked over to chat with Marie. I was glad to note his face light up with pleasure as they talked. He must have had a rough time with Rose.
Don had shown the Hubbards out, and on his return, asked if anyone wanted a brandy nightcap.
"We have to run, Don," Jim told him. "We'll just make the last train home as it is. Good night, everybody. Enjoyed meeting you, Goss, Marie. See you all Saturday night."
On the train ride home, Jim explained that Rose had been frightfully upset with a Negro couple's admission to the group. "She was born in Alabama. There's bound to be trouble."
At home, as we undressed for bed, Jim was silent and deeply thoughtful. Knowing what was on his mind, I too was silent. Let him bring it up. When I finally slipped into bed beside him, I was ready for his question. He sat up and turned toward me, his large gray eyes studying me for a minute or two.
"Darling, I'm sorry. I should have done something. I tried to catch your eye. I.. . " "What are you talking about?"
"That must have been a horrible experience for you . . . going to bed with a Negro."
"Oh my God!" I laughed. "Have you ever been in that room: He looked at me quizzically, but didn't answer. "We didn't go to bed. We sat on the bed." "You mean you didn't..."
"No, we didn't. Goss Jenkins is one of the most understanding, one of the most thoughtful gentlemen I have ever met."
"He never laid a hand on you? " "When we entered that room, I was so nervous and upset, he told me he knew exactly how I felt. I told him I hadn't expected they would play games, that I had expected to talk such a situation over with you before . . . " He shook his head. "Goddamn! He is a gentleman. I must remember to thank him. So you just sat and talked for two hours."
"Exactly. I've never met a finer gentleman."
He leaned over and kissed me good night. "Thank God! I was so worried about you all evening. Good night, darling." He turned off the light.
I lay quiet in the dark for a few minutes, waiting a decent interval for my lie to fade away. "Jim, after my long talk with Goss, I think I have a much better understanding of the problem of the black man."
"Yes, quite a problem," he mumbled.
"I think it's up to individuals to do what we can toward bringing the races closer together ... people like you and me."
"Yes, darling," he muttered sleepily. "I'm ready to do my part."
VIII
Jan had breakfast ready again this morning by the time I arose. She seemed unusually cheerful when I kissed her good morning. "You're going to spoil me, honey, with all this super service."
"Have to take good care of the breadwinner in this family,"she replied lightly.
As I looked up at her over my coffee cup, I thought I'd never seen her so completely rested and relaxed. "You must have had a good night's sleep."
"Never better. I may go shopping this afternoon, Jim. I'd like to find another dress for the party at Hubbard's."
"Fine. I want my wife to be the choice of the evening. I have to shower. Thanks, honey."
Having showered and shaved, I was packing a one-suiter bag when Jan came in from the kitchen.
"You're going out of town?"
Startled, I looked up into her questioning eyes. Goddamn it! I'd meant to mention this last night. "Just a possibility," I replied. "Didn't I tell you last night?"
"No."
From the frown on her brow, I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but apparently she was teed off that I had failed to tell her. "I'm sorry. I've been so damned involved with this Hubbard account presentation, I don't know my ear from a hole in the ground. We've been having some trouble with the Qaussen account in Milwaukee and the boss decided I'd better get up there for a day. It's not a possibility that I'm going... it's a definite probability." The frown disappeared from her brow and she smiled happily.
"Jim, honey, I'm so glad the boss chose you to straighten things out. I'm proud of my man. Can I help you pack? " "I've got everything, thanks."
She accompanied me to the garage. "Are you going to drive?"
"Yes. Much more convenient when I get there." "Be careful, darling. And good luck. Call me from Milwaukee."
As I drove away, I thought, what a lucky guy I am to have a wonderful wife like Jan . . . and what a sonofabitch I am to lie about a business trip to Milwaukee as an alibi for spending a day and a night with Marie Dulong.
I spent less than an hour at the office, telling my secretary that I had to spend the day with a potential customer, and couldn't be reached, but that I would call in late in the afternoon.
Marie was waiting for line in front of her apartment in Evanston. I opened the car door for her and set her overnight bag on the rear seat, then walked around the back of the car to get in the driver's side.
I sat looking at her lovely figure in a sleeveless dress of marine blue. She carried a coat of matching color. "Damn! You look gorgeous."
"Thanks, Jim, you look real sharp yourself. Where are we going? " "That's up to you, honey. I was thinking we could run up to Milwaukee, if you'd like. That would take several hours going, and several hours returning-maybe six hours we could put to better use."
"Right! Any other ideas?"
"We could check into the Palmer House. That's right handy, and no time wasted."
"Good. I've never stayed there."
"Okay. I'd better stop in a gas station and call in for a reservation."
I had trouble keeping my mind on my driving, with this fresh and toothsome beauty beside me. The Palmer House had a one-bedroom suite on the top floor.. . yes, with a double bed . .. yes, for one night, thank you.
It was a quarter to eleven when the porter showed us into our suite. I locked the door as soon as he left. Marie was already out of her dress by the time I reached the bedroom. I clumsily assisted with the rest of the unveiling and took her in my arms. We kissed in an exploratory way, our tongues thrusting, my hands busy at her back and shapely buttocks. "Give me a minute, darling, to get out of these clothes. My cock feels like it's in prison."
While I undressed, she laid back the counterpane and top sheet. I stood bedside, naked, looking down at her toffee-colored loveliness, gorging my eyes on her firm upthrust breasts, centered by small pink buds rising out of rose-velvet circles. My glance traveled hungrily over the flow of smooth satiny flesh across the flat plane of her belly, down to the glowing furriness of her pubes. After my learning session with Helen last Monday, I could really appreciate the descriptive phrase that came to mind: real eating pussy!
"I hope I can do justice to this," I said, with no mock humility.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "With that man-sized prick! Honey, I hope I can take it."
She held out her arms and I lay down beside her. "I'm so glad you asked me last night to meet you. I'm going to enjoy these next twenty-four hours with you, Jim. I want to get that experience with Milt Hagen out of my mind."
"Didn't you two get along?"
"I've made it a firm rule never to talk about one man to another, but I just can't stand him. I'm still black, despite the color of my skin. I felt like he was trying to use me, like some nigger upstairs maid. I insist on being treated like a human being . . . and I don't like it up the ass!"
"Whoa! Baby! Don't get yourself upset. That's all over with. Let's concentrate on this business." My right hand palmed her breast, then moved quickly down to her mound. "Oh, I can't tell you how lovely you are. Let me try to show you."
My mouth sought her lips, and I crushed her to me, feeling the sharp points of her nipples in my chest. Her mouth opened and our tongues laved and loved and thrust at each other. Her left hand moved up and down my back, setting off little circles of spasms while the sole of her left foot caressed my calf. My feeling of inadequacy in love-making that had first reared up in my hours with Helen was again thrusting up in my mind like a sharp thorn.
I had always thought that shoving my over-sized prick into a hole it was meant to fill should completely satisfy any woman. Yet, since joining up with this swap group, even Jan had seemed to need more from her sexual experience than a pussy filled with cock. This woman was undoubtedly a connoisseur in the variations on the theme of sex, and up until last Monday, I had known, and been able to play, only the lead melody. I had determined to be no longer the yokel with the big prick and the delayed fuse, but to become a master in the stimulation and the satisfaction of the full range of erotic delights-excluding, of course, the kooky offshoots.
"Marie, honey, I need your help."
She raised up on her elbow, and stared at me, wide-eyed. "In what way?"
I hesitated for a moment in embarrassment. "This may sound silly to you, but I want to learn to eat pussy."
She smiled. "No, it's not silly, Jim. There's a lot more to it than just sticking your nose into it. And a woman really appreciates a man who is good at it. I'll be glad to help. Besides," she added with a chuckle, "I'll enjoy every move of yours while you're learning."
"How do I start? " Sitting up, she put a pillow behind her back. "At the beginning. Have you ever tried it? " "Yes. Once." "Did you like it?"
"I was very much surprised . . . yes, I did."
"Why do you want to do it again? Because you like it?"
"Well, partly. Mostly though, because I found out that the woman was very much thrilled."
"Good. The woman's pleasure is primary. That's the basic point. The same principle holds true in every aspect of our lives, Jim, if you think of it. The most pleasure any of us gets in life, is by making someone else happy. It's too bad that in love-making, damn few men realize this." Yes.
"I'm not going to give you an hour's lecture. I just wanted to make sure you grasped the basis of this. A woman, when she loves, wants more than anything else, to feel that she is loved, and in cunnilingus, a man does this best by actually making love to her flesh, to every nerve of her body. He is speaking his love with his tongue and his lips directly into the flesh of her body, searching out the areas that respond, the most sensitive parts, that he might establish a flow of sensual delight-it becomes, really, a wordless, two-way communication of their mutual love."
"That's exactly how I felt my first time."
"The rest of it is mechanical, Jim. If you are really making love to her flesh, you won't be monotonously licking her skin as a horse tongues at a salt block-you'll be nibbling and nuzzling and tongue-brushing your affection of her every sentient part that goes to make her the woman you love." Stretching out on her back, she smiled up at me. "Now, come, love me."
"You lovely thing, you," I whispered, crushing her to me. My lips found her mouth alive and responsive, and my tongue tip traced the outline of her lips, lapping at the underside, slipping between her teeth, meeting her stiff tongue, poised and ready to touch and play. My lips nibble up her cheek, kissing each eyelid, brushing lightly across her eyebrows, back and forth, sensing their delicate response. Now, my mouth over her ear, my tongue traces the outer edges, plunges into her ear. Lips nibble at her lobe, take the pulse of her carotid artery as they nibble down into her shoulder. At the urging of my fingers, she rolls over to lie on her belly and I kneel astride her, my buttocks resting lightly on her thighs.
As I lean forward, my genitals rest in the crack of her ass, and I sense the shudder of delight at their touch. My tongue is a stiff, wet brush on the smooth skin of her shoulders, making small circles over her scapulas, then my mouth nuzzles up and down her spine, into her sacral dimples. My lips sense the small ripples of pleasure twitching in response. Her buttocks are mounds of sensitive flesh and muscle that spasm with reflexive twinges as I gently bite and nuzzle all over them, down into the crack between, up from her coccyx, along her spine to her neck. At fingertip direction, she rolls over on her back, lying between my knees.
My cock, thick and stiff, is centered over the cleft of her breasts. She licks her lips, reaches up to take my prick and draws it down into her cleft, then presses her breasts together to enfold it in warm flesh. Her hand on my ass-cheeks urges me forward and she tongues the dripping dew as her lips close around the glans. Feeling her tongue working around the underside of the ridge, I push forward, thrilled to the warm, wet oral reception. Does she want me to come like this? But she draws her head back, releasing my cock.
"I love that, honey," she whispers. "We'll do it that way later."
I kiss her lips, nuzzle down into the clavicle hollow below her chin. Her finger traces a line across her shoulder and my lips follow it, out to the edge of her armpit, down the outer edge of her breast and underneath, up into her cleft, out under the other breast and up the outer edge to the armpit. Without further guidance, I retrace the route, nibbling, nuzzling, tonguing the sweet smooth flesh, loving the taste of it, savoring the floral scent of her perfume wafting up from the warmth of her cleft. I mouth with loving gentleness the tender flesh of her breasts, tonguing around the dark pink aureoles, mounding the hardened nipples up to my lips, suckling them, sucking, then opening my mouth wide to draw up as much of her breast as I can hold, feeling one hand on the back of my neck as the other cups the breast up, her fingers feeding my greedy and loving suckling.
As my lips move off her breast mounds, down the slope of her stomach to the expanse of her belly, she slides a pillow under her ass. My mouth moves over her belly, around her dimpled navel and I thrill to the ripples of pleasure my gorging lips set in motion. Into the mound of fuzzy black goes my tongue, the tip of it stalking through the matted brush as stealthily as a cat, finding the edges of her sweetmeat, moist and unfurred. My nose hovers above it, nostrils flaring to catch the exciting scent. As my tongue dips into the tender crevice, her hips rise, her legs spread and I slither around to settle my body between them. She lifts her feet straight up, and I look, close-up, into her furry crack, see the swollen outer lips of her cunt, red and glistening.
My tongue laps gently into them, blotting up the sweet dew, moving up to circle around her hardened joybud that triggers cries of ecstatic delight. My mouth moves over to her thigh, and I nose into the tender flesh, loving the scent of her, nuzzling up the inside of her leg, mouthing, loving, kissing up to her knee and back down again, brushing across through moist hair to the other side, up, up to the knee, and back down, slowly, more slowly, now, teasing the cuntal lips that twitch impatiently to welcome my loving mouth. Into her wet slot I burrow, feeling her hands and fingers caressing my ears, pulling my face closer. Her legs drop over my shoulders, imprisoning my head, her hips thrusting up, rotating, bucking. "Ooh!" From far off, her joyous moans, dimly heard through the confines of her clasping thighs, incite my tongue and lips to deeper probing while my nose presses into her clitoris.
"Ooh! I love it, honey. Love it! Eat me up!" My hands are in the small of her back, fingers working up and around to sense the tremors in her belly muscles as her ass gyrates, rolls and bucks, faster now, faster.. . "Oh! Baby mine, I'm ... OOH!"... I feel the tenseness build as she ceases all movement momentarily and my mouth opens wide, my lips spread in an unseen smile of joy against her cuntal lips as her cries of delight and her wild, bucking ass pounds into my face and I feel the flow of her passion's juices into my sucking mouth and down my chin, suckling every drop I can catch, still tonguing, tickling her tissues for the last of her love-dew, until her violent movements cease, and her legs slide off my shoulders. I slide up in the bed, lie on my back, and with my hands, direct her into a squatting position over my face. Then I lave the last drippings from her.
She settles down beside me, lapping the viscid film from my lips, chin, nose and cheeks. Then she closes her lips over mine, thrusting her tongue into my mouth, murmuring Mmm! Mmm! Raising up on an elbow, she grins down at me. "You liar, you!"
I smiled at her happily. "You liked it!"
"I blew my mind, man. That's as fine a loving as I've ever had." She kissed the tip of my nose. "What a phony you are . . . Marie, teach me how to eat it! Excuse me, lover. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
As she disappeared into the bathroom, I glanced at my watch, astonished to find it was half past twelve. I had promised to call Jan when I got to Milwaukee. Waiting, through the flushing of the toilet and the running of water in the washbowl, I picked up the receiver and asked the operator to dial my home phone. Marie came into the room and I put my finger to my lips. She knelt on the floor, leaning over to kiss and nibble down my belly, into my pubic hair, rousing my cock into instant stiffness. Her lips nibbled up the shaft to close over the swollen crown, when Jan answered.
"Hi, honey. I just arrived up here. Thought I'd call and tell you I arrived safely." As I listened to Jan, I glanced down to see my ass thrusting up off the bed, forcing my cock deeper into Marie's suckling mouth.
"No, Jan. I'm sure I can't make it home tonight. I won't be able to get away from here until noon tomorrow. What's that? Oh, sure. You know I'll do a good job. I'll call you tonight. Exactly at ten. Good-bye, dear."
Marie moved up beside me. "I like your wife, Jim. She seems like a very sweet, sensitive person."
"She liked you too. Say, honey, it's going on one. Would you like some lunch? " "Let's have a quick one." She giggled. "Come on, baby, get up here and lay it between my tits. That'll be my cocktail before lunch."
Kneeling astride her, my thick stiff cock buried in the folds of her breasts pressed together by her biceps, I thought what an idiot I'd been about sex-compulsively ignorant of even the different positions of intercourse, to say nothing of the infinite possibilities for erotic delights in the use of oral and anal cavities. Hell, I'd even resented the one time Jan had climbed on top of me and wanted to lay me in that position. What a surprise I had in store for her when I started to practice my newly gained techniques on her. I'd have to be careful to introduce them gradually, though.
My mind was tickled back to my present position by the tip of Marie's tongue at the head of my prick, lapping the dew from the meat. Her eyes were alight with joy as she opened her mouth to engorge the head of my prick. There was no question about her delight in sex. She tongued the underside and sensitive foreskin with obvious relish, and I pushed it forward deeper into her mouth, feeling the strong sucking take hold of it. Damn! This was enjoyable, the warmth of her breasts enfolding the thick shaft, the wet warmth of her mouth laving the head of it. I wondered how Jan would like this-wondered how long it would take her to master the art of sucking it-wondered if she would like it when she did try it. . . oh, Jan, honey, what thrills you have in store for you! And then I remembered! My God! This was Thursday already. I hadn't laid her since last Sunday night! Oh, Jan, baby! I'll make it up to you. Ooh! Baby! Take it, suck it, baby, take it! Take it!
IX
I was upset for a moment or two this morning when I saw Jim packing a bag. He seldom went out of town on business and whenever he did, he always told me about it a day or two in advance. In that first instant, my mind intuitively connected his brief chat with Marie last night with his unexpected trip this morning. With a flash of resentment, I thought, he's lying to me, he's spending the night with her. Then, of course, I had to laugh at myself-and at him. Less than an hour after he left, I would welcome Goss into his bed for an entire day of nothing but sex.
Jim was gone by eight o'clock. Checking the garage door to make sure Jim hadn't closed it with the electronic control in his car, I spent a half hour in the bathroom, thoroughly scrubbing myself in the shower, brushing my teeth over the washbowl, douching my pussy over the toilet. I smiled into the mirror as I dried myself, thinking that, in view of the size of Goss' cock, an enema wouldn't be necessary. Looking at the rumpled sheets on the bed, I was about to change the linen, then decided fresh sheets would look worse than these an hour after his arrival. I spread them back over the foot of the bed. Since I had done the breakfast dishes while Jim was showering, I had nothing to do but spend the next ten minutes in an agony of waiting. For a minute or two, I debated the advisability of standing in the kitchen doorway leading into the garage to greet him in the nude. I was itchy all over to feel his hands and his lips caressing me, but I slipped into a lightweight robe with zipper-front. Try to be a lady this morning, I told myself. Let him take the lead.
At eighteen minutes to nine by the electric clock on the kitchen wall, I opened the kitchen door, shifting nervously from one foot to the other as I watched the minute hand creep around to the numeral nine. Give him a minute or two, I thought-I did say a quarter to nine, didn't I? The hand crept around once, then twice-or did I say nine? Suppose he didn't come? Suppose he thought I was just another sex-crazy white woman seeking cheap thrills? I had certainly been wild enough in bed with him last night to give him that idea. But he couldn't think that of me! He must have realized how deeply he had stirred me as a man, not a negro, that I had given myself to him wholly and completely. I must remember to tell him that, lest there be the slightest doubt in his mind.
One minute to nine! Oh, please, Goss, please!
The front end of a gray Chevy appeared in the driveway at exactly nine. As the rear of the car cleared the doorway, I pressed the door closing switch. I checked the urge to fly out to meet him, watched his tall figure straighten up as he got out of the car. His white teeth gleamed in his brown face as he approached me with open arms.
"I was so worried," I said, as his arms encircled me. "I couldn't remember whether I'd told you a quarter to nine, or ... " He nodded his head at the wall clock. "Nine on the dot. I wish I'd known. I could have been here fifteen minutes ago. That's time with you I'll never recapture." He pulled me close and our lips met. "Mmm!" he murmured in my ear. "It's true. I've been awake all night trying to convince myself that I hadn't dreamed you up. .. that our short hours together last night were for real."
"Better than real," I said, "they were pure delight." I stepped out of his arms. "Darling, would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Sure would." He sat in the breakfast nook while I poured two cups. "Cream and sugar? " "Neither."
Setting the cups on the table, I sat down opposite him. "You look beautiful this morning, honey, so freshly scrubbed."
I said nothing, studying the strong lines of his jaw, the broad shoulders that the narrow lines of his blue sport jacket couldn't mask, the warmth of his smile, his poise-God, what a man!
"You're thinking again," he chuckled.
Reaching over to touch his hand lying on the table, I said, "Yes. Goss, I was so worried when you didn't arrive at a quarter to nine, I was afraid ..."
"Of what?"
"Did you think I was awful last night, the way I... " "Darling, I say this truthfully. Never in my life have I ever loved a woman more passionately, more lovingly, more delightfully than I loved you."
"They say . . . some people say white women chase after black men because they want a cheap thrill."
He clasped my hand and shook his head.
"You didn't think that of me, did you?"
He raised my hand to his lips. "I've met a few white women like that. If I thought you were one of them, I would not have come this morning."
"I had to get that straight, darling. I was a bit shaky last night, those first few minutes after we entered the bedroom. But the moment I stepped into your arms and you kissed me I forgot all about the color of your skin. I loved you for the man you are." I kissed his hand. "I do love you. Come, let me show you the house."
As we walked through the den and the two guest bedrooms, he made no move to touch me. I thought of Joe Hagen and his offensive familiarity. Black, red, white, or yellow, I thought, my lover was a perfect gentleman. I took his hand as I led him out into the patio. Sunlight gleamed from the glassy surface of the pool. "We'll have a swim later."
"The neighbors? " "The street side's on the left. There's a six foot brick wall behind those lilac bushes. The bushes on the far wall, and on the property line to the right shield the yard from view. Besides, the neighbors in back of us are in Europe, and the ones on our right are in California."
He put an arm around my shoulder, and snugged me to him. "I love to swim. Is the water ..."
"It's heated."
"How late can I stay today?"
I reached up to clasp his hand. "How much do you love me: He lifted me in his arms with his left hand under my knees. "Where's the bedroom? I'll show you, darling." "Enough to stay all night? " "No, really. May I?"
I laughed. "Try to get away, lover. The bedroom is that way.
It took him a moment to remove my robe. I lay in bed watching him strip to his dark bare skin, then walk with graceful rhythm to the side of the bed. Looking up into his eyes, eagerly alight, I said, "Goss, darling, you're so damned beautiful I could come just lying here looking at you."
He dropped into bed beside me. "Don't waste anything so precious."
I don't know how long our first kiss lasted. His lips were like honey to my tongue. Just lying in his arms sent shivers of delight all through me. His hands hadn't even started to caress me, yet moisture oozing down my crack dribbled like urine.
"Mmm! You lover, you." Murmured terms of endearment purred from our lips. His mouth scaled up my cheek, his upper lip taking new purchase with each gradation, up into my eyelids, lips fluttering over them light as moth wings, his tongue brushing over my eyebrows, down into my ears, down my neck, his nose nudging my shoulder gently. I turned over on my belly, his mouth gliding in contact with my skin. I felt his precious cock and balls settling into the crack of my ass as he kneeled over me, his lips working his fiery love into my shoulders, my spine, down into the small of my back, enflaming every nerve, then onto my ass cheeks, nibbling, biting with the gentleness of an infant child, down the slope of one buttock into the coccyx and down-no part of me escaped his loving tongue. My anus twitched a joyous response-his mouth worked down the outside of my hip and I turned again to catch the liveliness of his tongue lapping the flow of my juices from my cuntal lips up under the hood of my joybud, circling, slowly, maddeningly, eliciting cries of my joy.
His mouth worked in the soft flesh of my belly, up one side, down the other, back up to my navel, kissing, loving, making its way up to the underside of my breasts, tracing the outer edges of each up to the armpit, back down to the cleft, and up over one breast, then the other, teasing my upthrust nipples eagerly awaiting his loving lips, and finally, around the aureole of one breast, circling in tighter and tighter rings until I clasped the fleshy globe forcing the teat up into his mouth. I sighed with the joy of passion as I felt his tongue mounding the stiff budded pap up to his lips, suckling it gently, then his mouth opened wide and sucked up as much of the tender breast as I could feed him.
I wanted the feel of his warm wet mouth enclosing the whole of it-ooh! I moaned, never before was a woman loved like this-then his mouth was on the other breast, repeating every loving move as I fed that one to him, treasuring every stroke of his tongue, the strong suction of his sucking mouth. He straightened up, his knees inching forward, and I stared in delighted fascination at the satin-pink crown of his huge cock, the small slitted opening glistening with a crystal-clear drop, trailing a kite of shimmering liquid like spider silk down into my cleft. I pressed my breasts together to enfold this throbbing dark brown club between them. My chin lowered into my chest, I awaited with tongue extended to lap the dew from the tip as he slid it slowly forward between my parted lips and into my welcoming mouth. Ah! Sweet nectar of love!
The telephone suddenly rang and we both stiffened.
"Stay here, darling," I begged, pressing my breasts to hold his cock entrapped. "Hand me the phone, please."
I put the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"
"Jan?"
"Yes." I saw another drop of his juice bubbling out of the narrow slit and I lap it up, while I listen. "Jan, this is Joe Hagen."
"What do you want? " I catch another precious drop.
"I'd like to get together with you some afternoon. How about today?"
"Where did you get the idea ..."
"Honey, you don't know what I could do for you. I'd . . . " "You can do something for me. Right now."
"Anything, Jan. You name it."
"Drop dead." I handed the receiver to Goss.
Not until he had cradled it did he guffaw. "Oh, God! That was funny. Do you mind, who was it?"
"You remember that cocky little guy at the meeting last night? Joe Hagen? " "Yes." He wiped tears from his eyes.
"That was the second time I met him. I can't stand him." I glanced down at the crown of his cock. "Damn him! Give that to me again."
"Oh baby, you're the most." His cock thrust forward in the fleshy cylinder of my breasts and I opened my mouth to it again.
"You want me to come this way, darling?"
I nodded. My hands went around his hips, palms on his buttocks, thrilling to the play of his muscles as he pushed forward. My fingers sank into the crack of his ass, massaging it gently, feeling for his anus. The tip of my middle finger touched its twitching ring and I toyed with it while I drew his cock deeper into my mouth. The tightening of his ass-cheeks alerted me to the imminent breaking of the storm within him and I worked my fingertip into his anus, his sphincter grasping it tightly. "Ooh! my darling," he mutters hoarsely, "are you ready?"
I nodded, licking the foreskin, then sucking with tightened lips. I felt his sphincter spasm around my fingertip and the throbbing flow of his semen start, slamming its way through his balls, up into the shaft of his cock, the tender skin of my cleft sensing its pulsing rush to spurt into my mouth. I sucked it out of him, draining him, drinking the salt of his manhood, suckling the softening pulp as it slipped away from me. I could have held it for hours, stiff and manly, continuously spurting its happy joyous juices into my thirsty mouth until I had drunk my fill.
I welcome him with open arms and open lips as he stretches out beside me. Never again, I think, will I be satisfied with Jim's insistence on the orthodox method of sexual gratification. My initiation into the many erotic delights of sex by Don last Tuesday had opened new horizons in so many directions that I had a growing resentment toward Jim for having so narrowly limited my previous experience. And, as joyous as my session with Don had been, it was, I'm now sure, nothing but a prelude to the masterly love-making of my handsome, precious, beloved Goss, whose moist lips are now suckling my paps. I kiss the top of his head and press his face into my breast. His lips are moving down over my belly, searching out and finding every area that tingles to his electric touch, nuzzling down into my crinkly blond mat, his tongue tip working on the tender skin, thrusting through the tangled brush to touch the unfurred crack.
And now he is settled between my spread legs, motioning for a pillow which he shoves under the small of my back. His mouth nibbles up the inside of one thigh, his tongue brushes wetly back down and across my hooded clitoris, loving it lightly, moving up the other thigh, and down into the sensitive skin of my groin, his nose sniffing, and at last, his tongue moves onto the outer edges of my cuntal lips that have been twitching with impatience.
His nose spreads them and I feel his tongue dipping into the soaking slit, loving, lapping, while the bridge of his nose rides the hardened bud of my joy . . . ooh! the ecstasy that surges through me, fiery currents of sheer delight... I drape my legs around his neck, pulling my cunt up into his face and I run my fingers through his hair . . . "Ooh! darling, I love it, I love it. .. eat me up, love it, my darling .. . LOVE IT," I cry, my thighs clamping his head while my ass bucks wildly, still holding his sucking mouth which vacuums up the pulsing flow of liquid delight... I sigh as the tempest subsides. My legs slide off his back and I close my eyes as his mouth makes love to my cuntal lips. With the palms of his hands on my buttocks, he pushes my ass up straight, separates my legs with his head and mouths my crack, lapping up the overflow of my juices. The telephone rings.
"Don't stop, darling, please. I love it." I lift the receiver, "Hello?"
"Hi, honey. I just arrived up here. Thought I'd call and tell you I arrived safely." "Glad you called, dear. Will you be home tonight? " As I listened, I blew a kiss to Goss, still busily suckling in my slit, his face, as he looked up, shiny with glistening wet film.
"Sorry you can't make it home tonight, but I'm sure you're doing a good job up there." I smiled at Goss. "You take care of your end. I'm keeping my end up here at home." I looked up into Goss' amused face, his chin resting on my pubic mound. "I'll expect your call tonight, dear. Good-bye." I hung up.
"Wonderful news," Goss chuckled. Framing his face between my thighs, I giggled. "You've at some long hours ahead of you honey. Can you do the job?"
"Can you think of a better man for it?"
My lips pursed in a kiss. "No."
X
Fortunately I had packed a lightweight robe this morning. When the waiter from Room Service brought our lunch, Marie remained in the bedroom while I had him set the tray on the coffee table in the living room of the suite. After he had gone, Marie joined me, nude and lovely, and I slipped out of the robe. Seated beside her on the sofa, our bare thighs in cozy touch, and her breasts and furry pussy more appetizing than any food on the tray, I firmly resolved that Jan and I would spend at least one day each week at home, enjoying each other's nakedness. I had ordered two double martinis, tomato and clam juice, hamburgers and coffee. We toasted our affection and mutual joy with the martinis. I sniffed at my glass of clam juice, thinking, if I dared to ask, how lovely it would taste if I could drink it out of her pussy.
After lunch, we returned to bed, kissing and fondling each other. Her touch was as moving as an electric cattle prod, my prick jerking erect on contact with her fingertip. I regarded it with manly pride, a thing of beauty, and a joy (I hoped) forever.
"Now, baby, what are we going to do with this thing?" "Put it where it belongs."
I stretched my six feet of pulsing urgency on top of her, spreading her thighs with my knees.
"Do you always use this position, honey?"
"I never tried any other. Any suggestions? " She laughed. "Ten or twelve. Ever tried it sitting on a chair?"
"Show me."
"There's a straight chair in the living room. Come on."
I sat down, keeping my knees together. Bending over, she first nibbled at the head of my cock. "Have to keep him straight." Spreading her legs, she sat astride me, taking my cock and wetting it in her slit. She squatted down on the head of it, moving her ass a bit until the crown entered. "Ah, he's big and stiff and satisfying, honey," she said, sliding down on it. Her heels must have been hooked around the back chair legs, because I could feel her pull herself even closer after I thought she had settled onto the base of my prick. With one hand at her back, I snugged her to me, sensing her hardened nipples point into my chest. With the other hand on her ass, I worked with her rhythmic motions, as she slid up and down on my greased pole.
"Didn't you ever try this with Jan?"
"No."
"Do you always do it the same way with her? " "Yes."
"Oh, the poor girl." She put her lips over mine, thrusting her tongue stiffly into my mouth while her ass slid up and down with increasing tempo like a jazz trombonist taking off on a wild solo. I wasn't ready yet. Except for my stiff cock impaling her, I was not even part of the act-so intrigued had I become in the artistry of her performance. She came with racking spasms and gibbering cries, sinking at last onto my still-stiff prick, her head resting on my shoulder. For a minute or so, she remained limp and inert, then she leaned back to stare into my eyes. "You haven't come yet." Wiggling her ass to confirm her statement, she added, "It's still hard."
"Honey, you didn't give me a chance. You went off like a sky rocket."
She crinkled her nose. "It's your fault. You make me so hot.. . Baby, carry me into the bathroom. Let's finish this on the toilet."
Placing my hands under her buttocks, I managed to get to my feet and strode stiff-legged into the bedroom.
"You sit on the John, baby, and we'll work this stiffness out of that bulky pecker of yours."
Sitting down carefully, with her astride me, I started my own sliding thrusts, assisted by her enthusiastic cooperation.
"You're going to love this, honey, when you come. Goss taught it to me. It's one of our favorites."
Clutching her working ass-cheeks, pulling her to me, releasing her for withdrawal, then forcing her down again onto my throbbing cock, I felt the juice start pumping, rushing up in maddening spurts of joy-and felt as well the flow of warm liquid over my pulsing prick, and balls. "Heh! You're pissing on me."
She jerked my face into her breasts, laughing gaily. "Yes, darling, I'm pissing all over you. Doesn't it feel warm and delightful?"
As the last drops of semen spurted up in her, I felt her warm urine dribbling over my balls, down into the crack of my ass, and heard the tinkle of its gentle flow falling into the bowl.
"I'll be damned. Whoever thought of that?"
"You like it?"
"It's crazy -but it's good!"
"Come on, lover boy, bathe me. Then we'll rest for a while. You got a long way to go yet. I'm going to teach you several other positions."
Oh boy! I thought, will I have some new things to teach Jan!
"Goss, darling," I said, leaning over him as he lay relaxed on his back, "you get yourself so messy." I kissed his lip and tongued the viscid film around his mouth.
"I'm sorry, mama, but you see, I got a girl who come and comes ..."
"And who's going to come some more, but later. How about some bacon and eggs? " "Yeah, man, now you're talking."
We showered quickly, soaping and scrubbing each other's parts and then drying each other.
Goss sat in the breakfast nook, nude and beautiful watching me prepare lunch. It was my first time trying bacon and eggs in the nude. Each time a drop of grease splattered, whether it touched my skin or not, I stepped up to him, pointing to the imagined spot for him to kiss away the hurt. My nipples seemed to catch most of the splatter How delightful it was to stride about naked in front of my lover to watch him covertly eyeing my breasts and ass with such obvious enjoyment. And to drop a utensil purpose! in order to Catch a glimpse of his cock, lying limp and formidable between his legs. As I set the plates on one side of the table, he stood up.
"Do you have any sherry, honey?"
"Certainly, just a minute." I brought a bottle of Spanish sherry from the portable bar in the living room. "I should have asked you if you wanted a drink."
"Never mind the glass. I just want a sip." Pulling the cork, he said, "Honey, I can't drink this straight. Would you lie down on the table, on your back?"
I stretched out. The formica top was cold on my back What was he planning to do?
"Slide this way. Your hips right at the edge. That's fine."
With his left hand under my ass, he lifted my hips up in the air, brought his face up into my crack. "I love sherry, honey, when I can drink it this way." Holding the neck of the bottle over my clitoris, he let the wine trickle down into my cunt, then lapped and sucked it dry. Setting the bottle on the table, he helped me up.
"Let me taste it." I licked at his lips. "Hm! Tastes different. I'll try serving that at my next cocktail party." And breaking into uncontrollable giggles, I finally managed to add, "Only it'll be a cunttail party." Everything I did with this man was a delight. "Goss, darling, can you arrange to meet me at least once each week? I'll never be able to live without knowing I can count on spending a day with you.
"Thursdays are best for me. Little doing at the office. It's a date, darling." He nibbled at my shoulder. "Every Thursday, at my place. I have a nice apartment on the north side. It's a white neighborhood, so you won't be embarrassed. Every Thursday, without exception, even if you're, you know ... we'll spend the day listening to music. I love being with you."
"Me too." I placed my hand on his cock. "I wish I had a picture of you, and of this ..."
He laughed. "Are you serious?"
"If I had a Polaroid, I'd snap a dozen shots of you from all angles."
"It just so happens... honey, I was hoping you'd suggest it. I have a color camera in the car, and three dozen packs of film. I'd love to have some snapshots of you."
"Wonderful. Go get them while I pile these dishes in the sink."
The first picture Goss took of me, I was posed, sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands on the sheet on either side of me, my long blonde hair brushed down to frame my face. We tolled off the sixty seconds of waiting together, and he removed the film from the camera. "Honey! You're beautiful."
"Let me see." Taken from a slight angle, my left breast stood out firm, the pink nipple seeming to kiss my left arm. The strands of my hair curled up to meet above the slope of my breasts. Below my navel, peeping up above the line of my right thigh, were the first straggly hairs of my blonde bush. "I am pretty, don't you think?"
"I want one just like it. Take the same pose, honey."
He took another shot of me from that angle, then had me lie on my side, my elbow on the pillow, my chin supported by the palm of my left hand.
"Oh, I like that. It shows my pussy. Honey, I've never seen what I look like down there-the way I look to you when you're loving it. Could you take a close-up?"
"Sure. I want one of that myself."
Moving down to the middle of the bed, I raised my legs.
"Wait. Put a pillow under your ass, baby. There. Now, raise your legs. Hold it."
Over the hair of my mound, the lens appeared like a large glassy eye staring at me.
"So that's what I look like!" For the first time I saw my pussy, the pinkish lips peeking through wispy blond hairs, the brownish skin of my perineum, the small puckered ring of my anus. I shuddered, remembering Don's man-sized cock thrusting itself into so tiny a hole. Above the fuzzy blond brush, the white skin of my belly stretched up to the slight depression of my navel, my breasts rising to pink-capped hillocks.
Goss repeated the shot. "Now you can see why I enjoy making love to your lovely pussy, darling. Damn, it makes me hungry just looking at it."
"Not yet, you don't. I want to take some pictures of you.
With Goss explaining the operation of the camera, I was able to take several good shots of him, including close-ups of his genitals. "But I want one shot of him when he's stiff and straight as a palace guard."
With a chuckle, he said, "Later, honey. Right now, I'd like a glass of water."
Hand in hand, we walked to the kitchen, my breasts jiggling, his genitals swinging, both of us happy with the sight. He drank but a mouthful of water, then sat me on the edge of the kitchen table. "I think you'll enjoy it this way." My legs spread to bring him close and my arms drew him to me. A long kiss roused his cock to life and set the juices flowing in me. The corner edge of the table touched my anus as he wet the head of his prick in my slit. I wiggled onto it as he pressed upward. "How do you like that?"
"Mmm!" I whispered, feeling the huge thick head pressing up into me. "Oh, darling, it's so big and long and filling. Mmm! I love it." I surprised myself in the sudden onset of my climax, my ass wriggling on the table edge, thrusting down on his fat, thick cock while I moaned and kissed and bit at his ears. Not until my buttocks came to rest did I realize he hadn't come too. "You're still stiff, darling," I said, working my levator muscles around the base of his shaft.
"Are you sure no one can see us if we go out in the backyard?"
"It's perfectly safe. Why?"
"Let's go." Sliding his hands under my ass, he lifted me up off the table. "Put your legs around my hips, honey, I don't want this to break off in you."
Carrying me out to the back yard into the bright sunshine, his long thick cock seemed to touch new areas of my vagina with each step he took. If it were possible for any neighbors to see us, they would have had something to talk about the rest of their lives, the tall, muscular black man moving easily about on the lawn while he carried a white woman, laughing merrily as she slid up and down on his huge cock. Finally he stood, his lips working at mine, his muscles tensing.
MO "Can you pee, honey? " "I think so."
"I'm coming. Piss on me, piss on me."
His mouth pressed to mine with passion, as I felt his cock begin to spurt up into me, and I started to piss, the urine splashing up on our bellies, warm and delightful.
"Ah! Wonderful, darling, wonderful. How about a swim now: "Good." His cock was still buried in me, beginning to shrink, when he carried me to the edge of the pool and jumped in. He was still holding my buttocks as we surfaced, but his cock had slipped out.
"Oh Goss, you think of the strangest things."
"You like?"
"Mmm! Love! Everything you do delights me." My breasts, buoyant in the water, bobbed against his chest. Gray, filmy strands floated up between us. Cupping them up in my palm, I said, "Look! That's all that remains of your love for me."
"Oh no! I still have the rest of the afternoon and all night to prove different." Snugging me close, he kissed me, pulling me to the bottom of the pool. As we rose slowly to surface, he released me. "I'll race you, honey. Two lengths. Go ahead, I'll give you a head start."
"You swim. I'll get towels." I climbed out of the pool and stood at the edge, watching his muscular shoulders roll slightly as he did a fast crawl. God, what a man, I thought, he does everything to perfection. How lucky I'd been to win him in the draw last night. Was it only last night I'd met him? I grinned happily, wondering how long a string I'd have already if I had roped a bead for every orgasm he'd given me.
In the bedroom, I suggested he lie down and rest while I drove up to the grocery store for steaks for dinner. Slipping into brief panties, and a pair of pale yellow slacks, I found the matching pullover.
"What a lovely ass you have, honey. Don't get raped."
I leaned over and kissed his lips, then the pink crown of his cock. "Not today. Not as long as I have this lovable mutt to take care of." At the bedroom door, I turned. "Does that camera of yours have a self-timing mechanism?"
"Yes."
"Could you take a close-up of us while we're coupled?" "I think so."
"Good. You keep that thing quiet till I get back."
"If you're gone more than fifteen minutes, honey, I'll have to masturbate."
"Don't you dare waste a drop of that."
The same butcher who had waited on me for the past two years was behind the counter. A tall, thin man, about forty, with curly black hair, and a dimpled chin. He smiled warmly. "Hello, Mrs. Ryden. What'll it be today?"
"Two filets, please. Cut them at least two inches thick." I was amused at his glance, fixed on the mounds of my unfettered breasts, bulging under my sweater. He licked his lips.
"Coming up. The best."
Waiting while he cut and weighed the meat, I remembered how many times in the past I had looked at him with interest, intrigued by the light in his eyes, and the pink tip of his tongue sliding over his lips, and I realized that the urge for sexual experiments had even then begun to bother me.
"Here you are," he said, holding out the package and managing to touch my hand. "You live on Walden Drive, don't you? " "Yes."
"On the corner. I've driven by a number of times." "Oh? " Was this a proposition? "I'd sure like to see your place."
I smiled, thinking today would be a good day for him. What would he think if he knew I had a tall, handsome negro lying naked in my bed waiting for me? "You're welcome to drop in any Saturday. Bring your wife. My husband's always home then." His smile vanished as I turned away.
Goss was sleeping soundly when I returned. Placing the steaks in the refrigerator, I returned to the bedroom, got out of my clothes and pulled a chair over to the bed. My poor, tired lover, I thought, rest and recuperate. Not wanting to wake him, I sat in the chair and dozed.
Half an hour later, I felt his hand on my knee. "Come to bed, Jan, honey. Why didn't you wake me?"
"You looked so tired, darling. I thought I'd pooped you out."
Enfolding me in his arms, he chuckled, the vibrations from his throat tingling my breasts. "Not a chance. I've been saving up all my life for this."
"And you're going to tell me you never made love to another woman in your life? " "No, but damn my hide if I ever made love to a woman as lovely and as delightfully responsive as you."
"Turn over, darling, I want to kiss you all over. The camera is on the floor beside the bed. When I get that lovely cock in my mouth, I want you to take a picture of me." For more than an hour, I kissed and nuzzled and tongued every inch of him, then settled between his legs, laving his balls, loving his swollen throbbing cock, up and down, until I took it in my mouth. I looked up as he focused the camera. "Wait." I wanted the big, bulging head of it to show, with my tongue caressing it. "Now." The picture was beautiful. In the long, lonely hours until the next time we got together, I'd have something to remind me of him and our joyous hours of love. He came with f,reat surging thrusts, rocket-like spurts of semen that pulsed through his cock past my thumb, delicately touching the underside of it. I was astonished at the volume of his flow.
We rested a while in each other's arms and then he returned my love in kind. Every nerve-end came alive under his expert tongue, lips and nuzzling mouth. His lips moved over every square inch of me in loving communion with my flesh; into every crevice, over every mound and plane of me. Three times I shivered in light orgasmic delight, until at last, he settled between my legs, his eyes barely visible over the fuzz of my pubic hair. His tongue lapped into my cunt, keeping time to my count of sixty seconds, until I tore the picture from the camera and removed the film strip. "Love it, lover, eat me up." I came in seismic bursts of joy, bucking, rocking, thrusting my slit up to his sucking mouth, emptying myself of the liquid delight his love had distilled.
Goss carried me out to the kitchen, and stretched me on the table. "I want another sip of wine, darling. It tastes better out of a brimming cup of love."
With his lips and open mouth in my cunt, and the warm wine pouring into my slit, I glanced down at his brown face, smiling with joy. "I don't know how it tastes, love, but OH! It feels wonderful."
The day was gone. We showered again. Goss went out to the pool to swim while I prepared the steak dinner. Seated in the breakfast nook, our thighs kissing when our lips weren't, we ate leisurely. I stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. "That should restore your strength," I said.
"Let's go to bed, sugar, and we'll see." He carried me back to the bedroom.
"My God! I've never had so much sex in my life."
"Somebody's been neglecting you, sweetheart."
"Would you believe, Goss, that up until the other day, I'd never known what it was like to have someone love my pussy, or for me to make love to a man's cock?"
"You sure are a quick study in the part, honey."
"Not only that, but I never had intercourse in any position but flat on my back."
"I'll show you a few new ones tonight."
We made love for hours, Goss managing to hold his load through three changes of position, my orgasms signaling the shift each time. With pillows under the small of his back and shoulders, I was riding astride him, his legs hooked above my buttocks, when the phone rang. "It's ten o'clock. That must be Jim." We didn't lose a stroke as I picked up the receiver.
"Jan?"
I nodded to Goss. "Hi, dear. How's everything up in Milwaukee? " "Fine. I'm in bed. Just called to say good night. What are you doing? " "I'm in bed too, relaxing in a very comfortable position."
"Good. I've been thinking a lot about you, Jan."
"Me too." I felt Goss' legs tighten, and my breasts lying on his belly sensed the approach of his long-delayed orgasm. "Will you be home tomorrow afternoon?"
"No. I'll stop off at the office." Goss had clasped his hands around my back, pulling me closer. "I'll see you around six, dear. We'll have a steak dinner out."
"Lovely," I whispered, smiling down at Goss, and forcing his cock deeper into me. Spasms of delight were surging all through me. I blew a kiss into Goss' grinning face. I love you, darling." I just managed to find the slot for the receiver when we both cried out. "Oh, baby, lover, lover. OOH!"
XI
Goss didn't leave until early Friday afternoon. We had dozed only a few hours in the night, one or the other of us waking to nuzzle and kiss cock or pussy awake. Kissing him good-bye at the kitchen door, I could see the lines of exhaustion in his face and could imagine what I must look like.
"Be careful driving, darling. Don't fall asleep at the wheel. I'll see you at the Hubbard's tomorrow night."
"I'm pooped, honey, but it was worth it. I love you. Bye."
Closing the garage door as his car backed out, I began to fear it would take me a week to recover. Tired as I was, I changed the linen on the bed, the towels in the bathroom, and tidied up the house, then flopped atop the counterpane and slept for four hours.
Somewhat refreshed, I showered again and was dressed when Jim arrived. I thought he looked as pooped as Goss had when he left.
We returned home at eight-thirty. Neither of us had spoken much at dinner. Jim had spoken briefly about the job he'd done in Milwaukee. I was silent about what I'd done at home in his absence. We undressed for bed, both of us weary. He took me in his arms and hugged me with little strength.
"Jan, honey, I've been neglecting you. Poor baby, I just happened to think this afternoon that I haven't made love to you since last Sunday."
My God! Not tonight, I thought, as he kissed my breasts, then tongued down to my sore clitoris. As his tongue licked its way into my cunt, I grew a little panicky. It's a dry hole he's working in. I had to stop him. I couldn't have come again even for Goss.
"Heh! I thought you didn't believe in cunt-lapping. Isn't that what you called it? " His head returned to the pillow.
"Yeah. That's right."
We were both asleep in less than fifteen seconds.
XII
I was sleeping soundly when Jan awakened me.
"Honey, it's noon. You going to sleep all day?"
Yawning and stretching, I sat up. "God! I'm tired."
"You must have had a rough time in Milwaukee. Breakfast is ready."
Did she suspect anything? I looked up quickly, but she had already turned toward the door. I slipped on a pair of sandals, donned a robe and went out to the kitchen.
"Another lovely day," I said. "What the hell is that?"
"What?"
"This sticky stuff on the floor. I just stepped in it."
Jan tore off several paper towels from the roll, wet them, and knelt at the edge of the table. "I spilled some syrup the other day. I thought I'd wiped it all up. Here, dear, let me have your slipper." She wiped the sole, sniffed at it. "Syrup."
Neither of us could find any light topics for idle chatter. I watched her munching on toast across the table from me, her right hand lying on the corner edge. She's thinking . . . got something on her mind, I thought, noting her fingers working a light caress on the surface. "Why don't you take a swim, honey?" "Maybe I will."
"I took a dip yesterday. The water's warm."
She looked so lovely, her blonde hair, brushed and shiny, framing her face, the warm light in her blue eyes matching the allure of her smile. I thought of my long sex sessions with Helen last Monday, and the day and night I spent in bed with Marie Thursday, and a pang of remorse cut deep. Poor baby! A week without any tail! A noonie now would make partial amends. I reached over to take her hand, but she rose.
"Why don't you swim, dear, while I finish up these dishes? " The water was refreshing. I swam two pool lengths, then stretched out on a redwood lounge. Drowsing in the warm sunlight, I glanced down at my swim trunks. I should have invited Jan to swim in the nude! Hours later, she awakened me, by removing a light cotton blanket.
"I kept an eye on you, dear. Fortunately, the shade of that oak protected you after an hour out here. I put a blanket over you later."
She was already bathed, coiffed and dressed for the evening in a marine-blue knit.
"What time is it?"
"A few minutes after five. Better dress. We're due at the Hubbards' at eight." "Oh, shit!" I muttered. "Don't you want to go?"
"Well. .. okay. We can stop for dinner on the way up there."
After dinner driving north on the Edens Expressway, I cast occasional glances at her, seated near the door, staring ahead, uncommunicative. Slowing down at the Lake Forest turnoff, I said, without looking at her, "Honey, I don't know about this swap business. It seems to be forcing us apart."
"Yes. I've been wondering ..." In the brief silence, I felt her hand on my thigh. "Maybe we should drop out. Who needs somebody like Freddie Pimple Something, or that crude, arrogant Joe Hagen? " "Shall we try it once more tonight? We can stay for breakfast and let them know then. Okay? " "All right."
At a few minutes after eight, we turned into the Hubbard estate. The headlights of two cars that followed a minute after us glared in my rearview mirror. Milt and Rose Hubbard stood on the front porch waiting to greet us. The Hagens and the Lefiers pulled up right behind us.
"Hi!" Milt called out. "Everybody on time." He was very cordial, shaking hands with everyone. Rose was icily aloof, nodding an unsmiling greeting. "What's this?" Milt was staring down the long driveway. Two cars were driving slowly toward the house, the second one obviously a police cruiser with red rooflight flashing. They stopped in front of the steps, Marie and Goss emerging from the Chevy, and a helmeted policeman from the other.
"What's wrong, Sam?" Milt called down.
"Mr. Hubbard, suh, you know the Village has rules about vagrants. I spotted these niggahs coming this way, and I stopped 'em. This big one says his name's Jenkins. Says he's a friend o' yourn, and comin' to a party. I told him we'd see if Mr. Hubbard had any niggah friends."
Rose's voice was shrill as a whistle. "The Hubbards have no nigger friends."
"Shall I lock 'em up, suh? " In the silence, everybody turned toward Milt. His swarthy face had paled to dead-white.
"Damn you, you ignorant boob," Jan cried, stepping forward and confronting the policeman. "These are two of my dearest friends. I don't know about the Hubbards, but you lock these people up, you'll have to lock me up with them."
Another car pulled up, and Don and Helen stepped out.
I glanced at Milt, expecting him to resolve the situation, but he had lost any ability to speak. I thought of the Hubbard advertising account, looked down into the distraught face of Marie, the composed features of Goss, and at my wife, Jan, standing beside him, holding his arm defiantly. I knew where I had to take my stand.
"Goddamn you, officer, you'll take me and my wife along. These are two of our dearest friends. I'll have a federal court warrant out for your arrest within two hours."
"What's going on? " Don asked.
"This jackass is going to arrest Goss and Marie on vagrancy charges," I replied.
"I jus' asked Mr. Hubbard... " "Like hell, he wants trouble, I'll give it to him." Don looked at the group, the Leflers and Hagens standing in the background, Jan and I beside Marie and Goss, and Milt at the top of the steps. Rose had disappeared.
"Come on, Jan, Jim. Helen, get in the car." He strode up to the policeman. "Well, make up your mind."
Sam glanced up at Milt, who hung his head, shaking it in negation.
"No trouble, mister." Sam stepped aside.
"Goss, Marie. Let's go. My place everybody."
None of us glanced up at the others on the porch as we entered our cars and drove away.
We had just driven past the gates when Jan snuggled up to me, and kissed my cheek. "Oh, darling, I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, baby. How could I do anything else?"
"The man I married couldn't." She squeezed a handful of the flesh of my thigh. "I love you, darling."
"Damn! I sure got my tit in the wringer on the Hubbard advertising account. Oh, I don't mind losing the account,"!
added quickly. "It's going to be one hell of a job explaining to the boss why we won't even be allowed to make the presentation that's already cost us thousands ..."
"Don't worry about it now, honey. It'll work out some way."
As we turned onto the expressway, Jan said thoughtfully, "I just had to say what I did. Goss is such a fine gentleman."
"Marie's a very wonderful, sweet person," I added.
"She seemed to be."
I glanced at Jan quickly. "Yes, she certainly does. When we get to know her ... By the way, Jan, if we play games tonight, how would you feel if you happened to draw Goss's number again? " "Well..."
"I mean, could you go to bed with him this time?"
"Yes." Putting her arm around my shoulder, she leaned over to kiss my cheek. "You know, darling, I saw it all clearly tonight. That damned policeman was a southerner. If we're ever going to eliminate all this bigotry, it's up to individuals like you and me. The principle's the same in or out of bed."
I didn't reply right away, pretending to think it over carefully. "You're right, Jan, honey. I wont object if I draw Marie's number tonight."
"I'm sure you'll find her very charming and very satisfying. Not too much so, I hope."
In Don's apartment, we had several drinks to take the edge off.
"Jan. Jim," Goss said quietly, "I can't tell you how much I appreciate the way you both jumped in. I had the devil of a time trying to control my temper."
"I couldn't have done anything else. Jan and I are so glad we've had the privilege of knowing the two of you. And we do consider you very close friends."
"The trouble with this group is too many lunkheads," Helen said.
"I thought the same thing the night we first met as a group," Jan commented. "Don, why don't we start over with just us three couples? We'd have quality, not quantity. Why do we need anyone else? " "She's right," Marie added. "We have all the talent we need right here."
"I vote for that. Any objections? No? Do we play games tonight?"
"Yes, let's play," Jan said with a broad smile. "Only instead of that silly pairing off, why don't we rotate each time." She took my hand. "And tonight, let's start off with our own mates. We can swap next time."
Her suggestion met with unanimous approval.
"And Don, please, may Jim and I use the mirrored bedroom? I've never seen more than one of him in bed with me." "Sure," Don agreed. "We'll take turns at the bedroom too from now on. Come on, Helen, get that lovely little bottom wiggling down the stairs." He turned at the door. "No time limit tonight, folks. Enjoy yourselves. We'll meet for breakfast at eleven." Goss and Marie followed him out the door, waving good night.
I closed the bedroom door behind me, and Jan turned into my arms. Our lips met in a passionate, working kiss, when the phone rang. We let it ring several times.
"It may be important. There's probably no phone in the bedroom Don's in."
"I'll answer it, honey. Why don't you get undressed?" I sat on the bed and picked up the receiver. "Jim Ryden speaking."
"Jim, this is Milt. Is Don handy?"
"He's downstairs, Milt. I can get him for you if it's important."
"No, don't bother him. I just called to apologize to all of you. I was so damned upset by Rose and the . . . Goddamn it! I had forgotten about the local situation. I never dreamed . . . Look, Rose is leaving tomorrow for the West Coast to visit her sister. I don't think she's coming back. I hope not. Jim!"
"Yes?"
"Please convey my apologies to Marie and Goss. I wouldn't..."
"You'd better call them yourself, Milt."
He paused for half a minute. "I have a girl friend, Jim, she's only twenty-five, young ... I hope you folks will give me a chance ..."
"I think that's up to Don and the others."
"Okay, thanks. I'll get in touch with them. And, Jim, one more thing. Tonight's events have nothing to do with your company's presentation on our advertising. I want you to go ahead with that."
"Thanks, Milt. I appreciate that."
"Let me say again, I'm goddamned sorry about everything tonight."
Replacing the receiver on the phone, I stood up, looking into the mirror for the first time. Jan was lying naked on the bed, her legs spread, the fingers of her right hand in her pubic hair, and her left hand under her breast. "Come, lover, make me scream with delight tonight."
I undressed where I stood, dropping my clothes on the floor, never taking my eyes off her naked loveliness. I thought of Helen and Marie-hell, they were tune-up fiddles compared to this, my own, personal Stradivarius.
Stripped finally, standing bedside with a huge, stiff hard-on that seemed to reach half-way across the bed, I smiled down at her. Baby, I thought, you've been wanting some variation in sex technique. Tonight I'm going to show you things you've never even dreamed of.
I leaned over and kissed her right breast, then ran my lips up to her ear. "Darling, I'll make you scream tonight. Baby, they'll hear you as far away as ... as Milwaukee."
