Don was trying to do the right thing, but boredom and frustration were against him.
He thought with irritation of his wife, Brenda. She'd been so cold lately and refused even to talk about it, much less try any of the remedies he suggested. If she'd shown the slightest interest in anything from sex manuals to swap parties ... any of the things he wanted to try ... he wouldn't have been in this position.
And the position was a mighty tempting one.
He was alone in his own home with one of the prettiest and sexiest young women he'd ever seen, and all the signs were in his favor. Just the way she walked across the room told him she knew what it was all about. Her hips undulated in a most provocative fashion, each round globe of her ass rolling separately and straining against the tight, clinging knit of her short skirt. Her legs were demurely clad in white silk tights but they too seemed stretched almost to the breaking point. Even her knee-high boots of soft calfskin, dark green to match the skirt, looked sleek and glossy and good to the touch.
I sure as hell would like to get my hands on those swinging buttocks! he thought.
He drifted into a daydream in which he was holding them while he pulled her closer to him, and the palms of his hands tingled with the imagined feel. Unthinkingly he licked his lips, and his fingers curled up as if they were cupped around that firm, sweet flesh.
"Here's a photograph of the orphanage," Lita said. "It's supported solely by donations and ..."
His dream faded as she talked. She'd walked across the room to get more promotional material from her purse, and as she returned he had a devastating front view. It was every bit as luscious and tantalizing as the rear, if not more so.
This was a housewife, a married woman canvassing the neighborhood for a charity? he wondered. Good God, if she dressed this way to solicit money from other wives, how the hell would she looked dressed for an evening out with her husband?
She was a small girl, maybe five feet three. Don had always preferred big women like Brenda, but now he realized how unfair that prejudice had been. Her long, lustrous hair fell in a dark red curtain around her attractive little face. Don didn't especially admire the amount of make-up she wore, although it did add glamour. Lita's startlingly blue eyes were framed by spiky lashes that ... even if false ... did make her look alluring, as did the deep blue shadow above them and the glossy pink of her lips. Her mouth was full, the lower lip extending in a permanent but attractive pout, and her figure was so sensational he had to keep his eyes firmly fixed on her fsyge to restrain himself from grabbing her.
Because, difficult as it was, he knew he had to keep his hands to himself. If he'd met her somewhere else, in a bar for instance, he'd have known she was there for the same purpose as he ... namely, to get better acquainted with each other for a possible sexual adventure.
But ... she was collecting for charity. She was a neighbor, and somebody else's wife.
That knowledge made his regret for having missed the swap parties even more acute. If Brenda had only agreed, he might have met and coupled with a girl like Lita.
He tried to tell himself he was lucky simply to have met her, and that only because he had decided to work at home for a few days, so he could concentrate without continual distractions. Since he ran his own business, he could makes decisions like that. The end of the fiscal year inventory was nearing and he'd fallen behind in his control of the books. The auditor did it all, of course, but Don liked to go over everything himself and make sure it was okay.
Since Brenda had taken a part-time job, his own home was the quietest and most peaceful place he knew. His employees could always reach him by phone if need be.
He almost hadn't answered the doorbell that morning, assuming the caller was a brush salesman or something of the sort. But some impulse had led him to open the door. For this he was grateful, even though his heart was pounding and his knees felt weak.
"Any amount you can contribute would be much appreciated," Lita was saying.
With a jerk he returned to the moment. "I'll have to write you a check," he said. "My wife usually takes care of these things. I bet you were surprised to find a husband at home instead of a wife."
"Not really," she answered coolly. "I sometimes play bridge with Brenda, you know, so I knew she was working. But I saw your car in the drive and figured you were here. And since I have the card for this house ... " She held up the prospect card prepared by the charity.
What was it again? he mused. It really didn't matter.
"So you know Brenda?"
"Sure, I do. I live around the corner, on the next block. Brenda and I have talked about getting our husbands together some time, but I guess you've been too busy."
"Listen, I've just fixed a fresh pot of coffee, Lita. How about sitting down and getting better acquainted right now?"
"Well, all right. Just for a minute."
She sounded reluctant. On the other hand, she chose to sit on the sofa, so close her silky knee brushed against him.
She was surprisingly easy to talk to and the minutes fled quickly.
"You really should meet your new neighbors," Lita said, leaning toward him, her hair brushing his shoulder. She giggled. "All of us think you're terrific-looking ... all of us wives, I mean."
His chest swelled a little and he watched her as if hypnotized. Her tight-fitting white sweater rose and fell with every breath. Underneath it, the swelling breasts seemed to be struggling for freedom.
"Now that I know you, I like you very much," she added, laying her hand on his thigh.
That did it.
Hardly aware of what he was doing, Don leaned forward and pressed his mouth on those soft, glossy lips. They tasted like ripe strawberries. His arms encircled the firm, slender body and his weight carried her backward until she was half reclining on the sofa.
He knew he was making a fool of himself. She'd struggle and scream, and he'd have to let her go. And then in no time, all the new neighbors would know that he'd tried to rape Lita Graham. Eventually Brenda would hear about it. His marriage would be in jeopardy and so would his business, dependent as it was on good will.
But she didn't scream or struggle.
He couldn't believe the evidence of his senses because, even as he frightened himself with those thoughts, he felt the unmistakable pressure of a hand on his thigh. His arms filled with her luscious warmth, his mind numbed with disbelief, he felt the heat of her fingers burning through the cloth of his trousers. Stroking. Caressing. Kneading the flesh and coming perilously close to his crotch and the sudden bulge of his penis lying along the inside of his thigh. Unless he had lost his mind completely and was having an insanely exciting daydream, Lita was not only letting him but encouraging him to continue his ill-considered pass at her.
He looked down and saw the long, slender fingers with their coral-tinted nails. He also saw the embarrassing swelling as his body responded to the erotic situation.
The blood pounded in his head, clouding his vision and darkening his face. He felt a wild, irresistible urge to reach and hold those fingers, to plant them firmly on his lustfully swelling cock.
At the same time, he was almost paralyzed by the near-certainty that she couldn't mean what he hoped she meant. Sheer surprise made him pull his head back and look at her, then down at her hand, still rolling the loose flesh of his thigh.
"Don't look so surprised," Lita giggled.
So many thoughts flashed through his mind that he couldn't sort them out. If he could only say something really suave at this moment, something smooth and sophisticated!
"Urn," he said, "uh, well, I am surprised. Happily so, I have to say. I never expected such a, um, happy surprise."
He knew he sounded like an idiot. He turned his head painfully and looked at her, seeing the sensuous mouth smile while the small white teeth caught at the edge of her full, pouting lip.
"You must think I'm terrible," she said, still giggling. "A real whore."
"Oh no, not at all." Nymphomaniac was more like it. But who the hell cared?
He grabbed her again, shoving forward until her back lay on the sofa cushions and her hips were twisted, still dangling toward the floor. He leaned over her, drowning in the blue depths of her eyes. His hands felt their way blindly across her satiny cheeks, and his mouth met hers as if they were magnetized.
Her lips parted under his kiss, just enough to encourage him. His tongue shot out and explored her warm mouth. Don felt a choking sensation as if he couldn't swallow or breathe properly. He felt like a sailor with his first girl after six months at sea. His cock throbbed inside his trousers and he was afraid he couldn't hold it back ... that he'd come in his pants like a kid.
Her pointed breasts poked into his chest, through the layers of cloth that separated them. His hand slid down to caress the outside curve of one of those full, enticing beauties. Cupping his hand around it, even from the side, even through the cloth barriers, sent a thrill through each fingertip and into his erratically pounding heart.
Encouraged by her lack of resistance, his hand ventured further, inching down to the full curve of her hip. A scent like lilacs filled his nostrils. He knew it wouldn't be more than another two minutes before his body went out of control and he began ripping her clothes off and raping her ... unless she was willing to go along with his desire.
"Hey, wait!" She finally began to struggle under him, as if she sensed his loosening of control. "Let me up, Don, please. Please!"
It took all of his will power but he slowly pulled back and let her sit up. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face, trying to convince himself that he'd been lucky, that it was a narrow escape.
"Damn you!" he said hoarsely. "What kind of game are you playing, anyway?"
Lita looked a little unsteady too, as she combed her fingers through her hair and adjusted her white sweater. "Hey," she said, "I didn't think a little friendly kiss would get out of control so fast."
"If you play with fire ..." he answered grimly.
"Yes, well, I wouldn't mind getting burned later on. Honest, Don, I didn't mean to get you upset."
Upset, she called it! Despite the painful ache in his groin, he reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "You'd better get out of here fast, young lady, unless you really want to get raped!"
"Listen, Don, I was just ... I have to think this through. I don't understand what happened. Unless you're some sort of sex maniac ..."
"Me? What about you?"
"I'd say we should finish what we started, if you'd just let me explain ... "
"Explain later," he said grimly. "Write me a letter, or else be prepared to take what comes."
He could almost see the wheels going around in her head, although he had no idea what she was thinking. She was some kind of kook, he was sure, but he'd had all he could take from women and he was ready to dish it out.
"Okay, okay," she said. "Just one thing first. Promise you and Brenda will come to a party at my house Saturday night. Then I won't. . . well, I won't feel bad about what we're doing now."
She was getting kookier and kookier, but he didn't care. "That's a date!"
He undressed quickly, not caring a thing about finesse. He did remember to shoot a glance at the living room draperies. It was all right; they were closed.
He moved toward her, naked and hard-cocked. She'd already pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it on the coffee table. He lunged toward her, pulling the straps at her bra off her shoulders. When she protested, he let her unhook it and then he gasped as her creamy, rose-tipped breasts spilled out. Jesus, what a body she had! he thought. High, pointy breasts topped a taut sheath of flesh over her ribs which tapered to a tiny waist. He wanted to devour those breasts with kisses and pull the rest of her clothes off at the same time. His hands reached out to cup and stroke the luscious tits. - He watched while she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. She was wearing only the thin white tights and her green leather boots. He reached out and grasped her hungrily, his hands sliding across her smooth flesh, pulling her close. With trembling but insistent hands, he rolled the tights down and revealed the slight bulge of her belly, which sloped down to a bush of carefully trimmed dark hair. Somehow the effect of the boots and loosely rolled tights was more erotic than if she had been naked.
He wanted to take his time and play with her; to enjoy all the pleasures of her warm, wonderful body. But regretfully he knew he didn't have the time; he simply couldn't wait. His dick had become one big throbbing pain and nothing would ease it except shoving it into the slit between those shapely legs.
His mouth fastened on hers. He remembered suddenly how cold and unresponsive Brenda had been lately, and a surge of angry masculine vanity made him encircle her slender body with his arms and pull her crushingly close against his chest while his tongue forced its way between her pouting lips. Damn all women, anyway! he raged silently. She had also tried to play with him, to toy with his aroused sexuality. He'd show her! Roughly he ran his strong hands up and down her back, feeling the give of her waist while her high, round breasts flattened against him. He was hurting her and he knew it, and he gloried in it! He rubbed his stubby chin over the smooth, delicate skin of her face and pushed his tongue in farther, making her gasp for breath.
His hostility was mixed with lust for her exciting, tantalizing body. He felt as if he were taking revenge on Brenda ... and in a way, he was ... for her remoteness and her calm, maddening superiority. He loved his wife but her attitude lately had given her an unfair advantage over him; he had to beg and plead for what should have been his by right.
But there was no use thinking about Brenda. The mystery would be solved one day, and meanwhile he had more than adequate means for revenge as well as satisfaction for his deep physical need.
He'd better think of this one, this kooky Lita instead, he decided. He wondered briefly if she was in the same position as he was, although he found that hard to believe. What man could have resisted the temptations of this vibrant body? Yet her desire seemed as strong as his. If that was the case, they could find relief in each other's arms. If she needed it, she was sure as hell going to get it! I'll give her a fuck like she's never had before, he thought happily, pushing her down on the sofa.
His hands slid under her to cup those round buns, just as he'd dreamed of doing. He groaned at the fantastic thrill he felt just holding her this way.
In spite of his big ideas he knew he couldn't take the time to make love to her slowly and get her ready properly. But he slipped a hand around and ran it over the hair-lined slit of her cunt. Moisture had gathered there already and he was grateful that he didn't need to worry about her readiness. Her eyes were glazed with passion and her pouting mouth whimpered softly. She moved under him with constant little wrigglings that told him her body wast as hot as his. His finger trailed along the narrow opening, picking up lubricating fluid along the way. She was the kind of woman most men dreamed about ... her beauty and her readiness ... and he still couldn't quite believe it.
"Ummmm, don't wait," she whispered softly. "Put it in me, you darling. Let's go!"
With an invitation like that, his excitement increased. He parted her labia, not neglecting to stroke her erect clitoris in spite of his haste. She shuddered and bit her lip and he smiled, knowing she was as lascivious and avid as he was. Lifting her buttocks in the air, he slid his huge, hard rod slowly into her wet, pulsating vagina. Her pelvis tilted up to meet him, bucking and shoving greedily to take it all. He sank into her with silky smoothness, feeling the warmth of her sheath enclose him and hearing the wet smacking noise as their bodies merged. She got it all, up to the hilt!
He hesitated a moment, looking down at her lovely, ecstatic face. God, what a thrill it was to have some novelty, some strange pussy. And she wanted him! He exulted in the tribute to his �asculinity.
"Do it. Fuck me!" she said fiercely. "Screwme good and hard!"
"You bitch!" The words were torn from his throat. He wanted her and despised her all at the same moment, but desire had to win. He raised his buttocks and smashed down hard, hearing the smack of his balls on her upturned ass. Roughly he took hold of her leather-clad legs and thrust them farther apart.
Then frenzy gripped him and he plunged into her again and again, as fiercely as his strong muscles could manage. It wasn't Brenda, it wasn't his wife, he realized. Yet he was revenging himself on Brenda and on the arrogance of women in general. His wild delight came partly from that and partly from his great sexual need.
"Take that, you bitch!"
Her body writhed and he rode her harder, faster, his straining hips bucking up and down, his swollen cock riding in and out of the smooth slickness of her pussy. Her cunt lips seemed to grasp it as if to hold it there forever.
His blood pounded in his ears so he could hardly hear his own sighing voice, much less hers. But something she repeated in a gasping breath slowly penetrated. He slowed his stroke and tried to listen. It was something about Brenda, he was sure of that. He heard his wife's name over and over as Lita tossed her head from side to side and mouthed little whimpering cries.
"That liar .. . Brenda . .. goddamn liar ..." Those were the words she forced out in her frenzy of erotic desperation.
Chapter 2
Don's curiosity was lost in a sudden resurgence of lust. Lita stopped uttering her strange words and began to moan in earnest, panting harder and flinging her arms from side to side. She was going to come ... even before he did! That knowledge erased his last lingering fear and he used all his strength in an agonizing attempt to reach his own orgasm. He'd told himself that he didn't care if lita came or not, that he was simply using her to satisfy his own need. But the truth was that he would have felt exposed as an inadequate lover if he hadn't been able to bring her to climax.
She screamed softly as she raked her nails through his straight, brown hair and over his shoulders as the spasms swept through her. But he couldn't let her go yet and he pumped furiously into her suddenly limp body.
Lita pulled herself together and pushed up at him, twisting her pelvis, trying to help him.
He felt the tightening of his testicles as they swelled to their fullest, ready to discharge their hot load. The gripping, heart-stopping tumult of his orgasm sent his breath rasping harshly through his lips. He groaned and sighed and clutched her, and she went limp in complete surrender. They lay like that for long moments, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing as their hearts slowed and their languorous bodies recovered.
His mind began to work again. He thought first of the danger, but he assured himself that Lita would have to keep the secret too. She wouldn't dare tell anyone because, after all, he hadn't raped her. She had been more than willing; in fact, she'd started it all.
Pushing back her mop of auburn hair, he looked down into her piquant face. She lay as if asleep, her blue-shadowed eyes closed and the long dark lashes resting on her pale cheeks. He tried to think the whole thing through. What the hell had she been whimpering? Something about Brenda ... about her lying. He puzzled over that but couldn't find an answer.
Don shifted his shoulders, easing the muscle strain. The whole thing was too much for him at the moment, but he did know one thing for sure: this was only a beginning. He wanted this gorgeous, uninhibited body again and he meant to have it. If Brenda didn't like that, she had only herself to blame. Not that Brenda needed to know, as long as Lita was as clever as he suspected.
Eventually they had to move, to get up and wash and dress and share a cigarette. Don asked her about meeting again, and she reminded him of the Saturday night party. He said that was not at all what he had in mind, but she only laughed and told him to wait and see.
It was maddening. He told her what she'd said about Brenda and she blushed and apologized, but that was all. She refused to explain her statement.
After she was gone, he showered and picked up the living room, guiltily plumping the sofa cushions and opening windows to get rid of her perfume and the odors of their lovemaking. He tried to settle down again at the dining room table, where his books were spread out. But he couldn't concentrate, couldn't work.
The thoughts he had been avoiding insisted on creeping into his brain. like it or not, the whole scene pointed to one inescapable conclusion. For some unexplained reason, Brenda must have hinted that he, her husband, was either not interested in sex or was inept.
That was the only explanation that made sense. He reviewed it all again and again, but it always came back to the same thing. First, Lita would not, could not, have made a habit of seducing her neighbors' husbands. She'd have been in bad trouble long before. Besides, she was not that stupid. Yet she had very definitely flirted with Don and tried to arouse him.
She must have felt safe.
Later, when it had been too late to back out, all she'd had to say was that Brenda was a liar.
The only way it made sense was if Lita happened to be one of those females who simply couldn't resist a challenge, if her curiosity was so strong she had to find out for herself. She had to have a fling at succeeding where another woman had failed. That was why she'd flirted so outrageously, fondling his leg and letting him tongue-kiss her. She was no real nympho, he'd have sworn to it.
He had to laugh. Instead of the capon she'd expected, she'd got the horniest and most frustrated husband in town! And of course, as things progressed, she must have found her own passion aroused so strongly that she'd gone ahead and completed the act, in spite of her original intentions.
So much for Lita. That left the problem of
Brenda.
Don thought of his wife the way she used to be, and even the memory made his hands tingle and his breath come quickly. She had been a virgin when they met, and he'd seduced her and married her all in the space of a few months. Don was sure she'd never had another man besides himself.
For a virginal, well-brought-up girl, Brenda had shown an amazing amount of sexual passion. In the early years of their marriage, all he had to do was pat her on the fanny while she was washing dishes and she'd turn to him, stripping the soap suds off her arms, ready to get fucked right there on the kitchen floor.
They'd been poor but happy, trite as it seemed. Don had been working for a plumbing contractor and they had little money for amusements, but they could be happy with a six-pack of beer and each other. Her big, full-breasted body seemed made for love. Not that she was heavy, he thought defensively, but rather voluptuously well built. Her waist was small, her tummy flat. But her curved hips and firm ass were excitingly feminine, to say nothing of her bouncing breasts.
He remembered one weekend in particular, when they'd spent an entire two days in bed. Time after time, when he thought he was completely exhausted and fucked out, Brenda had brought him back to throbbing, vigorous life with her mouth and tongue. All she knew about sex was what he'd taught her, and naturally he'd taught her all the ways he liked best.
When she went down on him, Don thought it was as near to perfect happiness as he'd get in this life. Her warm lips circling his cock, her busy tongue licking, her dexterous fingers cupping and tickling his balls ... it was enough to rouse a corpse, much less a lustful bridegroom.
Somehow they'd lost that happiness even though he had become successful in business, with his own plumbing supply business. They had bought this house only three months ago and they admired it intensely, filled with pride because it was theirs. Everything in it was brand new and the best they could find.
Brenda had more money to spend on clothes and enough to afford a cleaning woman if she wanted one, but she preferred to do her own work. She said that even then, she didn't have enough to keep her busy.
At least that had been her excuse for taking a part-time job as a receptionist at the hospital. He felt a little bit hurt by it but he had reasons for letting her please herself. She never said it was because they didn't have children, but he understood.
Don felt somewhat bored himself. His business was so well organized that it almost ran itself.
The proof of that was his having to bring the books home to go over them. Only two years ago, he would have known by heart every painfully collected payment and worrisome debit. But his office staff and salesmen were so good that he was left with too little to do.
Although he understood, he wished she'd try a different solution. Even though she might find satisfaction in a job, it didn't help solve their sexual problems, which had begun about a year ago and had gradually grown worse. She had headaches, she was tired and snappish. She was cold.
Don had done some reading and some talking with other men, and he thought he knew what the problem was with their marriage.
"Marriages can't help going sour after a while," one of the guys had told him. "It's like having apple pie every day. Hell, I love apple pie; it's my favorite dessert. But a year or two of it and I'd sure be glad to switch to lemon or cherry."
Swapping. That's what he'd been getting at. Or swinging, as Don understood a lot of the people preferred to call it. It was going on all over the country. Openly in places like California, hidden here in the Midwest, where they lived. Scrambling for the house keys thrown in the middle of the living room floor, on a drunken Saturday night. Writing ads and answering them. Meeting strangers at restaurants and motels, and looking them over.
Don read a lot and thought a lot before he ever mentioned it to Brenda. When he did, her reaction puzzled him. She wasn't the least bit shocked at the idea.
"Why shouldn't they?" she asked. "It's not as if you could wear it out. And if the couples love each other, it's certainly better than having affairs oh the side. More power to them, I'd say."
But it was always "them" and never "us".
Don showed her some of the advertisements. "Look, honey, these people sound nice and they're only fifty miles away. We could meet them somewhere in between, maybe for a nice dinner. And if either of us didn't like them, that would be it."
"Don, you've got to be kidding!" She was so alarmed, she got up and paced around the room. "What, us go to bed with strangers?"
He could kind of see her point, at that. It was a bit cold-blooded, meeting for the express purpose of swapping sexual partners. So he tried something else.
"I had lunch with George today, honey. We had a couple drinks and a long talk. Guess what?" Don had always suspected that Brenda had a secret yen for his old friend George. And his wife, Penny, was a real doll. He wouldn't have minded getting into that one's pants.
"Penny and ol' George have been doing what we were talking about. Swapping. How about that?"
"Don, you didn't ... "
"No, no, honey. I didn't suggest anything. But why not? It wouldn't be like doing it with strangers."
But she didn't go for that, either.
It was along about that time that Brenda began to have those bedtime headaches and all the other things. She stayed up late watching television, obviously hoping he'd be asleep when she came to bed. She seemed to have her period every other week, and he never had the nerve to challenge her. She had more excuses than a cheating husband. The truth was that she just didn't like sex any more.
And the worst part of it came when she did let him make love to her. She lay there like a lump and let him screw her, and she refused to try any of those variations she'd once seemed to love. He wished he'd asked Lita to go down on him, but that might have scared her off. Maybe next time, because he'd sure love to get some head ... and to give a little, too.
Don gave up trying to work. He said the hell with it and headed for the liquor cupboard in the kitchen. Neither he nor Brenda drank much but this time he broke loose the ice cubes and poured himself a hefty slug of Scotch, with the tiniest sprinkle of water.
He was getting horny again, just thinking about it. Brenda and Lita. Lita and Brenda. Did Brenda really believe he was having some kind of sex problem? He ran his mind back over the past year and could find absolutely no justification for that. It was Brenda who had the problem!
He discovered his glass was empty and filled it again. By the time Brenda's key pushed into the lock, Don was not only drunk but very, very angry.
"Hello, darling," she said. "Get much done today?"
She was a beautiful woman, no getting around it. Hungrily he eyed her full breasts and swelling hips. No man could possibly live with that and stay cold! he told himself.
"You'd be surprised," he said darkly. "C'mere and talk to me. Here, I've got a drink for you."
"A drink? Oh, Don, that's much too strong."
"Drink it, damn it! I want to ask you some questions."
But when she sipped from the glass he discovered he didn't really want to talk at all. He wanted something, all right, but not talking.
"Wassa matter, honey? You keep puttin' me off?" He reached out, his hands clamping on her breasts. "Drink up. We're gonna' fuck."
He could see she was getting excited. Pink flooded her cheeks and her eyes got that glossy, swimmy look he used to know so well. But she backed away, shaking her head.
"Wassa matter, honey? Don'cha wanna fuck any more? How come you told that Lita your old man's no good in the sack?"
Brenda stared at him, the color draining from her face. "What are you talking about?"
She began shaking her head as he started to tell her. He tried to hide the fact that he had fucked Lita, but his brain wasn't too clear. Brenda watched him and listened, looking frightened.
"You must have misunderstood," she said faintly. "You know I love you, Don."
As if to prove it, she stood up and began to undress. "You'd better not be too drunk," she warned him. "You've gone this far; you better get it up."
He looked down as he stripped off his pants and discovered, to his gratification, that he had a partial erection. That was great, better than if he'd planned it.
"You c'n do it," he said craftily.
They fell back together on the sofa and he fondled her huge breasts. "So long .. . it's been so long," he whimpered.
He lowered his head and, holding one breast in his hands, began to lick and suck it. He covered it with kisses and ran his tongue over its yielding weight.
Brenda reached between their bodies and got hold of his cock. It was harder but still not fully erect. She slowly ran her hand over it. Don trembled as her touch made it throb from base to head.
He had her going, he knew. He nibbled one of her tits and she began to moan softly as her fingers clutched the swelling rod. The head, like a swollen purple fist, oozed juices and she dipped her little finger into the tiny slit, rubbing the moisture around. He got on top of her, straddling her so his pulsing rod lay between her breasts.
"Kiss it," he begged her. "C'mon, honey, do me like you used to. Kiss and suck it for me, honey, please."
Chapter 3
Even through his lustful and drink-fogged mind, Don felt a pang of regret. This was the first time Brenda had ever used sex to accomplish a purpose other than their own pleasure. He knew she had been trying to put off his questions, hoping he'd forget them once his physical needs were satisfied. In some way he couldn't define, her actions were chipping away at the foundation of their love.
But those vagrant thoughts fled when he looked down at his flat, muscular torso and felt a flash of pride at the thickness and hardness of his swollen penis. Even after the earlier encounter with Lita, he mused, he still had plenty to give a woman. He wanted to be sure Brenda knew it, too. He stroked the pulsing, roekhard rod so the blood-engorged head swelled even more and his heavy balls swayed between his thighs.
Now that he was sure of her, he swung off her body and sat beside her. "Put it in your mouth," he said. "Can you still do it?" He was taunting, taking advantage of her need.
Instead of answering, Brenda knelt in front of him, shoving the coffee table back out of the way. She pulled gently at his hips until he was sitting at the edge of the sofa, his penis arching boldly forward and upward. He watched her bent over his cock. She was staring at it as if mesmerized ... as if totally fascinated by its purplish glistening head and the shimmering pearls of moisture that appeared on it. She licked her lips hungrily and, balanced on her ams, reached out to stroke the length of the hot organ. Her touch was light and delicate causing wave after wave of electric tingles to ripple over him. When her head moved forward and her tongue replaced her caressing fingers, he leaned back with a groan.
Whatever grudge he had been carrying in his heart against her melted away. He'd been patient ... he'd waited ... he'd given her a chance to show she loved him. Now ... even though it might not have been from love ... she surrendered herself to him, acknowledged his manhood without self-indulgence, allowed him to be the master of his own household once again. So many brief thoughts flickered through his mind that he wasn't sure if he felt revengeful, forgiving or simply lustful.
Whichever it was, it seemed as if a heavy load had rolled off his aching shoulders.
The thoughts disappeared in a hurry as her hot, rough tongue shot along the underside of his cock, finally circling the throbbing head. The only thing in the world that mattered was that exquisite thrill. His whole being was concentrated in that one organ ... every part of him involved only there. Excruciating pleasure-pain stabbed him as she closed her teeth gently on the head. He couldn't sit still; he had to twist and move his buttocks, shoving his hips forward toward her mouth.
She teased him a little longer, lifting his penis and rubbing it next to her cheek, crooning some wordless little tune. She rubbed it across her closed eyes, darting hot little kisses down the length of it.
Just when he thought he couldn't stand it one moment more, she put it back to her lips. He groaned deeply as Brenda rubbed it over her pretty lips, leaving a sticky trail behind. Her tongue slipped out, licking her own lips first and then running over the hot, swollen head and down the shaft.
"Suck it," he pleaded. "Suck it, baby."
She lowered her head and took it halfway into her mouth, her red lips closing around its white thickness. At the same time she reached underneath and squeezed his balls. More electric charges shot through him.
That was all he could stand. He seized her head ... the shiny dark hair slippery between his palms ... held her tightly and forced her up and down in a bobbing motion. The cushions of the sofa slid back and forth under him as he bounced her head rapidly. He was completely under the spell of his demanding desires and, apparently, so was she.
Don beat into her wet mouth as if it were a whore's cunt, aware of his hairy balls slapping below her chin and of the yielding warmth of her tongue and throat. He was seized by the uncontrollable rhythm that he forced her to join. Even while he fucked into her mouth he could feel the exciting pressure of her tongue flicking against the moist spongy tip of him, despite the way his bulging cock filled her mouth. He knew he was being too rough, that he was probably hurting her, but she didn't complain or try to pull away.
Slowly he realized that, whatever Brenda's motives in the beginning, what she was doing was more than an apology or a distraction. In her own way ... a way he loved ... she was expressing her deep love for her husband.
His loins ached with their need. He fucked harder into the warm softness and, only seconds later, felt the momentary rigidity come over his extended legs and moving arms. With one last burst of energy, he pumped into her and felt the frothy, steaming liquid shoot into her mouth and down her swallowing throat. Tiny trickles crept, out of the corners of her mouth and down her chin.
Don released his cruel hold. She was the best, the greatest, he thought.
The trouble was that only moments later, he began to think again.
He felt completely relaxed, suddenly sober, and yet knew that the distress in his mind would grow and grow until he had some answers. Might as well get it over with, he thought, let it all hang out.
They sat back on the sofa, still naked, and he lit cigarettes for both of them. Exhausted and languorous as he was, Don was determined to get some answers.
He patted her knee and said, "Your friend Lita invited us to a party Saturday night, and I said we'd go. Okay?" She nodded reluctantly. "Okay, on to the next subject. We've got to get some things straightened out between us, baby, you know that? We're going to have a little truth session, starting right now."
He paused, and dragged on his cigarette. "Either you've lost your marbles," he said, "or you're hiding things from me. Things that I've got a right to know."
Brenda had to admit defeat, she thought. At least up to a point.
She was sure that Don hadn't told her everything that happened earlier in the day, but he had said enough that she got the point.
"Your friend and neighbor, Lita, laid the make on me," he said bluntly. "God knows I don't want trouble, no woman but you is that important to me. Not worth a scandal in the neighborhood. But baby, I've been pretty hard up. Only you know the reason for that, but you know it's true."
She had to admit she did.
"Well, then. When I responded like any normal, red-blooded, sex-starved husband, it nearly blew her mind. She seemed to think I had something missing in the sex department. Now how about that?"
Brenda blushed deeply. Damn that Lita! she thought. She just couldn't resist finding out for herself!
"Darling," she said humbly, "it's all my fault. Please forgive me."
"Sure," he said, "just as soon as you tell me what's going on. And why you said that."
Her mind raced furiously. She could tell part of the truth and still keep her nasty little secret to herself. Don might think she was crazy but he wouldn't hate her.
"Oh, Don. It was stupid of me but it was the only thing I could think of at the moment. I could have bitten my tongue off the minute I said it, but by then it was too late ..." Her voice trailed off. One look at his face told her she'd have to do better.
"You know all you've told me about swappers and swingers, Don?" When he nodded she swallowed hard and continued. "You know I was ... afraid to try it. But, well, we hadn't lived here three weeks before I discovered the neighborhood was full of them. Not just Lita and Bill but lots and lots of others. They wanted us to join their parties ..."
"And you didn't want to."
"That's right. Not so much that I didn't want to, but I was scared. So I said the first thing that came into my head."
Don was angry but at least this got his mind off her coldness of the past ten or eleven months. Brenda didn't blame him for being insulted ... half the neighbors were gossiping about his impotence. She should have thought of a better story.
But she was out of excuses, and almost at the end of her rope.
"Then this party we're invited to is for swingers?" Don asked.
"Yes. And I'm sorry about everything, Don. I'd like to try it, honest. Let's go to it."
He kept shaking his head as if he couldn't believe it, but Brenda sensed that he had accepted her story. They talked a while longer and he made her call Lita and tell her the truth. It was embarrassing, but nothing compared to Don's embarrassment; she knew that.
"In that case," Lita said, laughing, "why don't you bring your husband over this evening to meet Bill? Come around nine-thirty. The kids will be asleep by then."
Don thought of his double session that day, and suppressed a laugh. "See if they can make it tomorrow night, honey."
Lita seemed to think they were putting her off, so there was no graceful way out of it. Brenda told her they'd be there.
Don took a nap while Brenda fixed supper. She noticed when he came to dinner he was wearing a new sport shirt. She couldn't blame him for trying to look his best. She'd been a dud as a wife ... not only in bed but in every way. She resolved to make it up to him, including swinging if that's what he wanted.
It really shouldn't make any difference to her, after what she'd already done. She knew she was making Don pay for her mistake. It wasn't fair, die thought. Even if she had to force herself, she would go along with the program.
Brenda had nothing against swapping. If people liked it, that was great. She knew they must all think her a prude; the truth was something else. She was ashamed.
Boredom had affected her just as much as it had Don ... in fact, more ... at least he had his business to think about. But instead of coming out with it honestly, as he did, she'd found another path. So by the time he mentioned swinging, it was too late for her. She had already had an affair and ... most shameful of all ... an abortion.
It was something she and Don never talked about any more. They'd hoped to have children, but as the years of marriage slipped by and nothing happened, they had seen doctors.
Brenda was fertile, the doctors told them, but Don was not.
She couldn't remember the medical reason ... something to do with having mumps in his late teens. He never suspected it, of course. He was completely normal in every other way, but he'd never be a father.
So it wasn't just being unfaithful. That, she believed, he would have understood and forgiven.
Nor could Brenda bring herself to regret the whole thing as she felt she should. She never saw Guy any more but she still remembered the thrill and excitement of those days. Her heart would pound and her palms grow wet just thinking about him.
That made her feel even more guilty. She realized that she had been trying to suppress the entire sexual side of her nature because of that guilt, and the only person it hurt was Don.
In any case, it was over. And, if she was not mistaken, this evening would see the start of a whole new scene.
"You ready, honey?" Don's voice brought her out of her daydream. "Yes, let's go."
They walked through the warm summer night. Lita met them at the door and introduced her husband, Bill. He was a stocky man of middle height, smiling and friendly. His hair was blond and cut short. Brenda couldn't help appraising him as a prospective lover. He wasn't Guy, but he was attractive. She began to feel a tiny bit of excitement at the thought.
"What are you drinking?" Bill asked, opening a bar in the corner of the family room.
They all settled on beer. Brenda knew that Don must be feeling a bit hungover from his unusual daytime drinking.
The conversation inevitably settled on the events of that day, and Brenda had to take some teasing about her thoughtless lie. While neither Don nor Lita said so, the implication was clear that they'd enjoyed each other's bodies. Bill didn't seem to mind in the least.
Lita and Don settled on one sofa and she and Bill, across the big room, on another. She was acutely conscious of his nearness, his size and warmth, the masculinity of his wide shoulders and powerful hands.
Brenda thought it was no wonder she was excited; if Don had planned to prepare her for swapping, he couldn't have done better than he did that afternoon. She didn't believe he'd figured it out, but the result was there.
Bill's nearness was intoxicating, simply because she had gotten pretty aroused in her love play with Don ... but he was the only one who got any satisfaction. He'd never done that to her before and her guilt had kept her from reminding him. But she was hot and excited, lust causing her stomach to churn. All the innate sexuality she'd been repressing since the affair with Guy had been activated, so that she felt as if her crotch was on fire. She had to keep moving, squirming, in spite of herself.
The ironic part was, Lita and Bill would be sure it was from embarrassment. They would probably label her as shy, Brenda thought.
Bill's hand rested lightly on her knee. She could feel its heat through her skirt. She hardly dared look at him for fear her desperate longing and need would be revealed.
"What do you say, you pretty thing?" Bill teased. "Still afraid of me?"
"No, not really." She smiled up at him, trying to control her twitching body.
"Then let's you and I take a walk over to your house," he suggested.
She looked over at her husband and Lita, sitting there holding hands and obviously waiting for her decision.
"Let's go," she said.
Chapter 4
"You're not sorry we're here, are you?" he whispered.
"No, no." Brenda's throat felt tight. She was dazed and could hardly remember getting home and undressed and into her ... and Don's ... king-sized bed.
"You want me to stop now?"
"Oh, God, no!" She was lying on her back with her knees spread wide, a pillow under her buttocks. Bill lay half on top of her, his mouth moving around from one tit to the other while his hand explored her trembling body.
"Such beautiful tits," he said. "I could kiss them forever."
His fingers roamed lightly over her skin, barely touching it and yet sending tantalizing messages to all her nerve endings. She realized that he was taking his time with her, making sweet and gentle love until she was aroused enough to enjoy it. And he was good at it; he understood a woman's body and its many erogenous zones. His kisses on her mouth and on her nipples were equally skillful and thrilling. As a lover she'd rate him A-plus so far, and she expected the rest to be as marvelous as the foreplay.
There was only one thing wrong with it, Brenda thought ... it was completely unnecessary.
Her experiences earlier with Don had left her in a lewd and lascivious mood, ready to be taken and to give as quickly and roughly as any man could. She wanted, oh, she needed, a man's meat inside her quickly! she thought. Her body was a mass of molten desire. All the long months she'd been denying not only Don, but herself, in her shame and guilt. Now the unused passion inside her was like floodwater about to burst over the dam, inundating everything in its way.
Yet, what would he think if she suddenly said, "Hey, come on, let's fuck!"
Brenda simply didn't have the courage to do that. She'd gotten herself into this position, where Bill believed she was shy and a little slow to warm up. And if she ruined that image now, heaven only knew what he would think of her.
At last he reached down to her curly-haired mound and carefully slipped his hand between her thighs, parting the hairs and exposing the moist, pink flanges of her cunt. She waited breathlessly. Surely the dampness of her pussy would give him a clue.
In one way, she was truly shy. Except for her husband and Guy, her lover, no man had touched her until this moment. So far she didn't feel free to act and react naturally ... not until she got over this paralyzing fear. After all, this was exactly what she'd told Don she didn't want to do ... meet a stranger and go to bed with him immediately.
"I want you so much," he said softly. "And you want me too, don't you? Look, you're all warm and wet and ready. You do want me, don't you?"
"Oh yes, yes! Put it in me now!"
Want it? Brenda thought. She was near to exploding with needing the feel of his swollen cock in her avid cunt. She forgot all her fears and worries in the warmth of his arms and the exciting closeness of his body. She had already seen that his penis was fully as long as Don's and somewhat thicker. It throbbed against her leg, sending goose bumps over her skin. .
He lifted himself and she felt the heavy head of his cock slide over her leg and rest on the mound of her crotch. That was all it took to make her pussy quiver and clamp together, as if to cage his swollen sex inside it. She smiled and licked her lips, eagerly awaiting his next move.
Bill raised himself to his knees and held his thick rod in his hand, brushing it gently across her slit, as he held the lips apart with his other hand and gently teased her. She felt as if her cunt lips would move up to swallow it of their own accord.
No matter how hard she tried to wait and be passive, her hips continued to roll back and forth.
"You won't be shy next time, will you?" Bill smiled. "You'll let me make love to you anywhere ... even at the party."
"No, no ... I mean yes!" She was both pleased and frustrated by his long teasing, and the temptation to tell the truth arose again in her throat but she choked back the words. There was no denying that the longer he delayed, the hotter and more avid she became, panting in her eagerness to get that hunk of male meat inside her quaking pussy. And of course, the greater the pleasure when he did.
He slipped a hand beneath her buttocks, separating them and rubbing his fingers against the puckered ring of her asshole. That pressure sent sweet tingles through her. Her pelvis writhed as he continued the dual assault on her cunt lips and her anus.
"Please, please!" She gasped and moistened her dry lips. "Put it in me now!"
He laughed softly and triumphantly as he spread her labia wider so he could aim his throbbing dark knob and bury it in her dripping slit. Brenda looked down the valley between her huge breasts and saw the length of his rod poised at her cunt, the head barely inside. Bill was smiling down at the same sight, his face a mask of lascivious pleasure. She wanted to push upward and take it all, but again she restrained herself.
Shoving in a little farther, he looked up and caught her glance. "Isn't that something?" he said, marveling as if this were the first time he'd ever seen such a sight.
He leaned forward and grasped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs running over the erect, rosy pies. "And such pretty titties, too," he sighed.
Bill's movement sent his rod in a little farther. Brenda couldn't wait, delightfully thrilling as it was. Her pelvis bobbed upward, away from the supporting pillow, and her gaping maw swallowed the length of his dick. She heard him laugh again as he pushed harder and entered her all the way. It felt as if it were coming out her throat! Brenda thought. But her elastic vagina expanded with the pressure and took it all, slickly, warmly and receptively.
He had delayed just long enough to put her in a lazy mood, and even when a sudden thrust sent a pain shooting through her, it was more happiness than hurt.
"You sweet thing," he said huskily as he raised his buttocks and slammed down on her.
Brenda closed her eyes and almost at once her mind floated free. It was Guy's dark curly head that dipped to suck briefly on a nipple; it was Guy's clever hands that stroked her body. And it was, it must be ... Guy's hard, demanding prick that sent such delightful ecstasy through her willing body.
One level of her brain knew the truth and was horrified. This was what she feared would happen with Don, and the reason she deliberately forced herself to stay cold and ungiving. She was lost in a swirling mist, living the past and the present at the same time, unable or unwilling to let go of her memories. It wasn't love; it couldn't be love; Don was the only one she loved, and Guy meant no more to her than this stranger who was pillaging her body. But she had to force her lips together to keep from murmuring Guy's name out loud.
The moment passed and she was back with Bill, her friend's husband, thoroughly aware of him. He was as vigorous as an eighteen-year-old but she realized that he had the skill of an adult, an experienced lover. His movements changed from time to time, almost driving her over the brink into the orgasm that waited, hovering just beyond reach. His hands caressed her as he murmured soft, loving words. Her passion rose and she answered his every stroke and change of rhythm.
The sound of a panting voice echoed in her ears. At times she wasn't sure whose voice she heard ... hers or Bill's. There was no separation, no distinction between them; he was she and she was he.
He arched his back and shoved her knees up until they were cramped against her breasts. His hands went to her ankles and he held them wide and balanced himself against them, as he pumped long, steady strokes into her.
She wanted desperately to come. At the same time, she wanted it to last forever, never to end.
His punishing dick, deep in her vagina, seemed to communicate with her wordlessly so she knew just when to push against him, when to break the rhythm and go slower, when to spread her legs and pussy wide and accept the insistent pounding of his cock. They'd gone beyond the point where she met his stroke, where they played out a kind of game, a dance together. Now he was pure male, slamming in to his female, taking her with animal-like force.
Every pounding hammer blow brushed against her clit, or the sensitive skin around it so that sweet friction was always with her. She knew she was gasping and crying and begging for help. But the help she wanted was only more of the same soul-shaking, heart-pounding fucking.
He lifted his hips high in the air and she knew instinctively that this was it; he was going to climax. Whimpering and mewling, she made herself an open slippery receptacle for his cock and when he slammed home the last time, she came too. The fragile bubble of her emotions burst and she screamed, throwing her head from side to side as the tremendous waves rippled through her.
He pumped on slowly, milking the last sensation from his fluttering loins as the hot, sticky sperm emptied into her.
He collapsed at last with a long, shuddering sigh. She wrapped her arms around his sweating body and held him close against her.
"You are really something!" he gasped. "My God, I've never had anything so great in my life," Bill was asleep before his heart stopped its heavy thudding and returned to normal.
Brenda lay holding him, her mind whirling with unfinished ideas and thoughts. Of course he didn't mean that, she thought. Every time it was good, it seemed as if that were the best time of all.
What she worried about was that her relationship with Guy had uncorked some reservoir of emotion and that she really was different than before. If that were so, then Don would surely know it the first time he fucked her. She couldn't keep up the cold attitude she'd shown him lately; sooner or later her sexuality would burst over the dam again, just as it had a few minutes ago. And then what would her husband say?
Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about it. She loved Don; she knew she did. Guy had been a passing thing, an amusing affair. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.
And yet, she could remember every moment they'd spent together, and every word, almost, they'd ever exchanged. She met him so innocently.
She'd been driving just outside of the city when a flat tire caused her to pull over to the side of the road. Guy came along and changed the tire for her. They felt an instant attraction to each other.
She knew she was foolish to follow him to the tavern for a drink, but at the time it was hard to refuse, since he'd just helped her. From then on, one thing led to another until they were lovers and thoroughly involved. It had only lasted a few months but those months were seared on her brain forever.
She'd been an idiot not to take precautions against pregnancy. The safe years with Don had made her almost forget the urgent necessity of protecting herself. Now she took the Pill. Don had urged her to get started on them when he first tried to talk her into swapping.
But she hadn't had the Pill then, and the inevitable happened.
Brenda never blamed Guy for panicking. He was happily married, just as she was. She wouldn't even have told him she was pregnant, except she didn't know what to do or where to go.
He arranged the whole thing. He even took the afternoon off and waited at the clinic while she had the D&C. There had been nothing to it, just as Guy had said. She even felt cheated about that. She thought she deserved to suffer and there was no suffering to endure.
Guy paid the bill, but that was the last time she ever saw him.
Don had been absolutely right, Brenda thought. This was the way to do it. If she'd listened to him, they could have been enjoying these delightful experiences right along, with no guilt or hang-ups. It wasn't being unfaithful, not when you both agreed to do it.
She wondered how Don was doing. If what she suspected was right, this was the third time around for him in one day. Poor guy, she mused, he went from famine to feast!
As she held Bill's body close to her, Brenda resolved that she'd go along with everything Don wanted after this. And if he noticed a change in her, she could blame it on the swapping. That was a perfect out.
Having made the decision, there was only one thing to do. She turned her head and blew gently into Bill's ear, at the same time running her hands up and down his back. He stirred sleepily but didn't wake so she shoved her tongue into his ear and curled it around.
That did it.
Bill woke and began to kiss her, at first gently and tenderly, then with increasing passion. His hot tongue separated her lips and gouged deeply, so that they were breathing into each other's mouths.
Yes, Brenda thought happily, swapping wasn't bad at all!
Chapter 5
Lita and Don lay side by side on the bed, his arm around her. He wondered what she was thinking about, if she was disappointed because he wasn't more aggressive.
Damn, it was Brenda who put him in this spot! Don thought. They couldn't just meet another couple and swing, like he wanted to. Her and her bright ideas. First he had to prove his manhood this morning with Lita and that had led to the drinking and the blow job with Brenda. The result was that here he was ... lying naked next to this desirable, willing woman ... with as much energy as a wet noodle.
It was either nothing or too much!
Suddenly he had a twinge of fear. He thought he knew what Lita must believe. She probably thought that his wife hadn't been wrong after all; that he did have a sex hang-up! First he was angry and then he began to laugh.
"Well!" Lita was offended. "I've had a lot of reactions from men but I never had one laugh at me before."
He apologized and then looked at her measuringly. He'd like to tell her the whole story ... not only so she'd understand why he wasn't up to any more balling tonight ... but in the hope that she could throw some light on Brenda's strange behavior. Maybe another woman would know. And maybe it would keep Lita from feeling the way she did now, slighted and hurt.
"Listen, Lita, I really do owe you an apology. If I'd been thinking, if I'd had my head on straight, I'd have put this little party off for a day. Actually I wanted to, but it was too hard to explain. I thought we should take advantage of Brenda's being in the mood."
He stroked her smooth flank absent-mindedly, seeing the little trail of goose bumps that followed his hand. Her body was so enticing and he ached with wanting her, but his fatigue had killed the excitement he ordinarily would have felt.
Lita raised herself on one elbow and looked at him. "Yes, I understand that part of it. But why put this evening off?"
Don laughed. "I'm thirty-two, Lita, not sixteen. And in the course of this one day I've screwed you, gotten drunk and sobered up, and had Brenda blow me. To tell the truth, I'm worn out."
He looked to see if she understood and she was laughing.
"I have an idea," she said, mischief twinkling in her bright blue eyes. "Just you wait here a minute."
"I saw this in a movie, believe it or not," she said when she returned from downstairs with a loaded tray. "First of all, here's a drink to relax us. A good stiff one."
Don leaned against the headboard and took a sip. Stiff indeed, he thought; it was practically straight Scotch. But it tasted good and he felt its effects almost immediately.
Lita stood by the bed, her naked body erect and her boobs standing out and heaving with each breath. So many small girls are too skinny or too plump, but she was a perfect miniature Venus. In spite of his weariness, he couldn't keep his eyes off those perfect breasts with their rosy nipples and deeper rose aureoles. His glance drifted down to her slightly rounded belly and below it, to the triangular muff of auburn hair. Whatever she was cooking up, he hoped it would do something to him ... arouse his sexuality so he could take advantage of the situation.
Of course, he consoled himself, they were going to keep on swapping, so it wasn't as if this were his last chance.
"Finished with your drink?" The light of lewd imagination shone in her eyes and he sucked his breath in at the incandescent glow. Whatever Lita was up to, it had turned her on already, Don thought.
"Lie down now but keep your head on the pillow so you can watch."
She bent over him with an aerosol can in her hand. By God, he thought, it was whipped cream! A shiver of anticipation ran over him as he guessed what she was up to.
She tipped the can over his crotch and pushed the button. Don jerked as the thick white spiral of whipped cream shot out, cold and soft on his penis. It was a weird sensation!
Lita giggled as she sprayed the thick creamy stuff on his cock. Then she lifted it to coat the underside and his balls. There was something excitingly lewd about the way she handled his limp equipment, leaning over the bed with her tits dangling, her hands quick and expert. He felt the cold foam, and it was queer and thrilling. Don grinned and squirmed, as he felt a stirring in his lazy organ.
"I've heard about this," he admitted, "but I never did it before."
He knew she was going to lick it off and he was suddenly impatient. "But what about the sheets?" he asked doubtfully.
"They'll wash... now hold still! I can't eat a sundae without the chocolate sauce!"
His crotch was white with whipped cream, and now she spooned out the thick liquid fudge on top of it. He had to laugh because it was so odd and incongruous, but even as he laughed he felt his heart begin to hammer and his breath come harsh.
"Now ... the final touch!"
And with that she plopped a round, red maraschino cherry just above where the head of his cock was buried in the creamy confection.
Lita bounced onto the bed, her hands separating his thighs and holding them apart. Don folded his arms behind his head and watched her, filled with the lascivious novelty of the moment.
Her small, even teeth closed around the cherry and she chewed it solemnly, a tiny trickle of juice running down her perfect chin.
"Ummmm, delicious!"
Her tongue lapped at the chocolate as he lay still, enjoying the unique sensations. But he began to think she'd never get through the layers of dessert and to the meat of the matter!
"Best sundae I ever had," she muttered between mouthfuls.
The crazy stunt was working! Don laughed to himself. As her tongue swept up the foamy, white sweetness, it rasped softly against his swelling cock. The combination of cool cream and warm tongue sent shivers through him and made him clench his hands into fists and groan from deep within. It was a wild sensation, Don thought.
Slowly and carefully, she licked his cockhead clean, exposing the throbbing dark red ball of the head.
"I can taste you right along with the sundae," she whispered, "and you're going to be the best dessert of all!"
Her breath was warm on his cock and balls and the inside of his thighs. She licked carefully all along the length, so the blue veins in the underside throbbed and sent electric tingles through him.
Don itched to get his hands on her now. He loved to get head but he'd already had that today. Now he wanted to shove his meat into her cunt, and get his hands on that vibrant body bent so lewdly over his crotch.
"Come here," he said thickly. "Come here to me."
Smiling at him, Lita moved up along his body.
"Don't you want a sundae, too?"
"Yes!"
She handed him the chocolate and the whipped cream and he decorated her breasts with swirls that spiraled in toward the rosy nipples. He filled the spaces with dabs of thick chocolate and crowned it all with cherries that oozed their red juice in little trickles.
"Your own cherries taste even better," he said, gobbling up the sweet delicacy.
Lita's back arched in ecstasy as she felt his tongue circle her trembling breasts. When they were completely clean and still damp from his tongue, he sucked on one tit until it turned as scarlet as the maraschino cherries, then turned to the other one. She moaned and gasped under his touch, her body wriggling uncontrollably. "Spread your legs," Don commanded. Obediently she lay flat and pulled her ankles up under her thighs, so her crotch lay open to him. With the can of whipped cream in hand, he maneuvered down the bed. She could feel his hands on her pussy, opening the cunt lips and then using the fingers and thumb of one hand to keep them spread. She jerked as if an electric current had shot through her, but that was nothing compared to the feeling that followed as the cold, airy cream shot into her.
"Ooooh, Don," she whimpered, her hips and buttocks jerking almost out of control.
Don put his mouth between her legs and licked the cream from all the little crevices, tasting her lubricating juices mixed with the sweetness. It was entangled in her cunt hairs and he sucked every tiny bit into his avid mouth.
When his tongue hit her clitoris she stiffened, knowing she was already on the thin edge of orgasm. The whole day had affected her so strongly in so many ways. First, the unexpected conclusion to her morning flirtation. Then the mixed emotions from Brenda's phoned confession.
In spite of all that, she'd thought, an hour ago, that she'd discovered the secret; Don really did have a sex problem. But obviously she'd been wrong.
When he lay there earlier, naked and near but unavailable, Lita had gotten hotter than ever. She never could resist a challenge.
But now that he was obviously hard and ready, the pendulum of her emotions swung again almost to the point of instant orgasm. Even as she thought it her mind went blank and her muscles stiffened for a long second. Then the spasms shot through her, intensified by his constant lapping at her slit.
"Ho, ho, ho!" Don laughed softly. "Look who's going bang-bang all by herself."
"That's okay," Lita answered, grinning happily. "There's lots more where that came from."
Don couldn't wait any longer. His hot, swollen cock demanded the feel of her slick sheath around it. But since they'd been so inventive and fanciful, he didn't want to simply fuck her the same way he had this morning.
"Turn over and get on your hands and knees."
"Bow-wow," she said, smiling, as she followed his instructions obediently.
There, waving in his face, was the smooth, round, firm ass he'd eyed so hungrily earlier. Could that have been only this morning? Don wondered.
But then it had been covered in layers of clothing ... in the short skirt and the white tights. He remembered how they'd made love with the silky tights draped around her boots. Now he had all of her, all naked, all his. He leaned forward and kissed each gleaming oval lustfully.
Lita had played this game before. She put her head down on her folded arms and spread her legs.
He got on top of her and slid his thick cock between the cheeks of her ass, lingering there a moment. Some day, he thought, I'm going to try that. I'm going to fuck some doll in the ass before I'm done. But this wasn't the time. He was too close to coming; he couldn't stay hard long enough to penetrate that puckered, tight brown opening.
Instead he found the slit of her cunt and pushed forward, sliding easily into the well-greased passage. Holding her by the tops of her thighs, he began to pump slowly, then faster and more confidently. She bucked back against him, her ass slamming into his belly.
Don flicked his hips in a tantalizing movement that drove his pulsating rod deep into the hot, clutching channel. He smiled when he heard the fleshy smack of their damp flesh. Rightly or wrongly, his masculine pride had been deeply offended twice today ... first at Brenda's degrading lie, and then earlier tonight at his inability to perform. He knew that happened to all men at times, and particularly in the unusual circum- stances he'd faced. But that had nothing to do with it, really.
Because this was one game where no excuses were accepted.
For a time he'd felt as if his wife had castrated him in actuality, not only in her unfair accusations. Now I can prove her wrong! Don thought triumphantly.
Then all conscious thoughts faded as pure sensation took over. He battered his heavy cock again and again into the velvet depths of her moist cunt. His hands held her in place, clutching so that they left deep red imprints where he'd grapsed her flesh.
Under his wild assault Lita writhed in thrilling agony. In spite of the awkward position, she gloried in sensation as the rubbery head of his cock pummeled the chasm of her soft, yielding body. She followed his movements back and forth, side to side, aware of the pain from his strong hands but not caring in the slightest as long as this delicious battering continued. Shoving her crotch up to meet him, she vaguely sensed that she was contorting her body into an impossible position. But that too was part of the thrilling moment.
"It's good, so good," she panted. The insatiable, gluttonous passion made her words come out in little puffs of sound.
He felt his orgasm building and his hips pumped spasmodically, driving his powerful weapon into her bucking body. Suddenly his sperm-filled balls spewed their white, hot, frothing load deep into her. He heard her groans and sighs at the same time and as his limp body fell over onto the sheets, lita fell away from him. Her breath was coming harshly and he knew they'd reached that high peak together.
When they could breathe and talk again, they lit cigarettes and sat companionably talking, leaning against the headboard.
For the first time that evening, he felt a pang of sympathy for his wife. No matter how annoyed he might get, he loved her and wanted her to be happy. He remembered thinking that he might talk to lita about the problems, in the hope that one female might understand another female mind. But now he felt that might seem disloyal.
"What a day," he sighed contentedly. "And that's just the beginning, remember?" Lita smiled, then frowned. "At least I hope it is. I hope Brenda doesn't change her mind."
"She won't," he answered with certainty. "Tell me about the party Saturday night, Lita. How do you work the details?"
"It all depends on the hostess," she answered. "Sometimes we all get naked in the beginning and wander around until we feel like making it with somebody. Other times we match up some way, like drawing straws."
"And what will our hostess Mrs. Graham choose."
"I'm not sure yet," she confessed. "I'll probably end up doing it the easiest way, letting everybody do as they please."
The little nagging worry about Brenda came back to spoil his relaxed pleasure. He knew he hadn't solved the mystery yet and he was determined to find out what had changed his loving, carefree wife into this cold, secretive stranger.
Sleepily he got up and dressed, smiling in memory of the whipped cream sundae. "No matter what you do, Lita, you're one hell of a hostess. All I can say is, I sure hope whipped cream is on the menu Saturday night."
"And that," she said, "gives me one hell of an idea!"
Chapter 6
In spite of what Lita had told him, Don was as unprepared as Brenda for the spectacle of the party Saturday night.
Anxious to make a good impression on their new neighbors, they both spent considerable time in getting dressed. Lita had said it would be casual, so Brenda wore a new pant-suit and Don, his best sport shirt and a pair of bellbottom pants. Their fastidiousness, they discovered, had been a waste of time.
Everybody else at the party was nude.
Naturally, Brenda and Don hadn't arrived that way, and Lita showed them to a bedroom whose closet had been emptied to make room for the guests' clothes.
Even Don had to admit he felt a bit silly standing there completely naked and he looked apprehensively at Brenda to see if it bothered her. "No," she said in answer to his question, "we'd look funnier if we were dressed. Here, I mean. What does bother me is that I don't know a soul." Lita told them a few couples Brenda had met, were coming later. These were not all neighbors but swapping friends of the Grahams from all over the city.
"Here, I have something for you," Bill said, after following them into the bedroom. "Let me put it on for you, baby."
What he had was a small colored decal, the kind children get in bubble gum packages. When moistened and applied to the skin, it left a tattoo ... in this case, a number.
Brenda was Number Seven. The tattoo was placed on the inside of her thigh, right at the edge of her pubic hair. Normally it would be invisible, and could only be found by a determined search. "I think I get it," Don said, applying his on his thigh near the bulge of his testicles.
Back in the living room, they sipped cocktails and looked around at the other guests. Some were dancing already to music from the hi-fi. Others stood or sat in groups, talking and drinking, seemingly very casual and nonchalant.
Don took a quick inventory of the other males.
They came in all shapes and sizes, just like anyone else, except for one splendid specimen that made him draw in his breath and nudge Brenda.
"Will you look at that guy? Is he ever hung!"
The stranger was a handsome young man with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. Brenda couldn't take her eyes off the massive hunk of meat that hung between his legs. She noticed that he did not seem in the least self-conscious but that the other women glanced at him again and again, some lustfully and others apparently in fear.
Lita was trying to get the attention of the group. She struck a fork against a glass and the high piercing sound brought down the level of the conversation, as heads turned her way.
"Listen, everybody!" Her rather high but pleasant voice carried above the music. "I have a little surprise for you tonight ... unless you've already guessed it!" There was laughter and heads nodded. "Yes, the first time around ... but don't rush, we've got all night ... the first time around we're going to be matched by numbers. All you guys and gals, all you have to do is look around or under until you find the partner with the same number as yours. Okay?"
They all agreed.
"I wanted to have a whipped cream party," she went on, "but Bill reminded me of the cost of upholstery cleaning these days. But I think this will be fun, and I hope everybody cooperates!"
Nobody rushed. In fact, for all the effect Lita's announcement made, she might have been speaking Greek, except that a noticeable tension crept over the room. Laughter was pitched a bit higher, voices sounded louder, and the dancing couples seemed to cling a bit more sensuously. But the guests were friendly, and both Brenda and Don found themselves absorbed in different conversation groups.
Brenda was in no hurry, either. She needed a little time to absorb the shock of all these nude bodies and their casual acceptance. She was tall enough that she could look men almost in the eye, but she wondered about the effect it must have on Lita, gazing point blank at bare hairy chest or other women's uncovered breasts.
A tall man with a brown, well-trimmed beard seemed to have adopted her. He said his name was Mort. He kept her martini glass constantly filled and it wasn't long before her tension eased and she knew she was a little bit high, but happily so.
They heard laughter at the other end of the room, and turned to look. Some of the guests were ready to begin pairing up. It would have been possible, of course, for a man or woman simply to say what number was printed inside the thigh, but that would have spoiled the fun. Two of the men were checking every woman in turn, which meant getting her down on the floor with legs spread while they peered an unnecessarily long time. The hilarity grew as the search continued.
Mort seemed kind and attractive, with a slim, lean-hipped body. Brenda couldn't help wishing he were the male Number Seven, but she knew it wasn't likely.
"C'mon, Brenda," Bill said coming up behind her. "Join the fun! Don't you want to know who your next lover will be?"
"I'm in no hurry," she answered coolly.
"I'd have liked to cheat," he said cheerfully, "but Lita wouldn't let me. Look at your old man! He isn't wasting any time."
A third man had joined the pair of investigators, and it was Don.
"What a shame if he finds the right one and has to quit looking!"
More and more joined in and paired off. Most of them went to look for some dark corner in the bedrooms or family room, but a few of the more uninhibited simply climbed on the sofa or claimed a corner of the living room, out of the way of traffic.
Brenda began to wish the silly game had never been invented. It was one thing to receive, and accept, an invitation. In other circumstances, she and Mort would probably have stolen away to a quiet spot by now. He looked more attractive every minute, and she was completely aware of his nice masculine scent and the strength of the nude shoulder that brushed hers.
But standing here waiting to be claimed was embarrassing, although going searching for her matching number would have been worse.
Mort touched her arm.
"I don't suppose you're Number Eleven, are you?"
"No ... maybe we should cheat!"
But it was too late.
"Excuse me, I'm Terry"
It was the handsome young man with the huge cock.
"I'm Brenda Jamison and this is Mort."
"Hi! May I take a look at your number? I might get lucky!"
Her face flushed, but she raised a leg and propped her foot on a chair. Terry crawled underneath. Her leg burned where his fingers touched it, although he was quick and not vulgar about it.
"Number Seven! I am lucky, after all!"
They stood and talked and had another drink. She tried to keep her eyes on his face but it was impossible not to notice the gradual swelling of the huge instrument, rising from between his thighs. He could hardly move without its brushing against her or somebody else. Brenda didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I suppose the bedrooms are all taken," Terry said, "but let's go look. Being around you is, well, you can see for yourself."
Hand in hand they tiptoed from one dim room to another, but as he had said, all were occupied with at least one couple, and some with two or three. But they were in luck, they got "seconds" on a bed in the children's room.
Brenda thought it must take some arranging to get the kids out of here for a whole weekend.
"God, I'm going to love making love to you," Terry said.
"How do you know? You haven't tried me yet," she answered, laughing.
"I'm a tit man, that's why! And I've been watching you ever since you came in the door. Watching these big beautiful boobs."
He squeezed one of her huge breasts, fondling it as if he really meant what he'd said. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.
She'd wondered if she'd be able to get excited over something as open and unromantic as a swap party. Now she knew.
He lowered his head and took a nipple in his mouth, supporting the weight of her breasts with both hands. His tongue swirled hotly in a spiral around the outside of one and then the other, leaving a trail of fire wherever it had touched her.
His big cock was pressed against her belly.
She couldn't resist it. She reached out eagerly and stroked it, loving the feel of the smooth, thick skin that moved over the rigid core. She felt the distended blue veins against her hand as she stroked slowly from the base to the head.
He was nibbling at her tits again and she moaned in the back of her throat as she moved her hand slowly over the shaft. It filled her hand completely and throbbed with a promise of its frightening power. The head was distended and swollen now, blood-engorged and dark red. Clear moisture oozed over her fingers as she grasped it. Grunting softly, still with a nipple between his teeth, he maneuvered her toward the bed. She felt the bed against the backs of her knees and let her body fall backward, while he rolled her farther onto it. He lay beside her, one hand heavy on her buttocks, the other stroking her glossy dark hair. "You're so beautiful," he said softly. "Are you glad too? Did you feel lucky that we had the same number?"
"Yes . .. yes." What else could she say? But the truth was, she was beginning to be glad.
He wasn't kidding when he said he was a tit man. He licked and rubbed and sucked until her nipples were swollen and red. Then his hand went between her legs and found the soft hair of her crotch and entwined his fingers in it. She moaned and writhed her hips.
Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as his fingers found the narrow opening and stroked it, caressing her clitoris and covering it with her own moisture scooped up from her slit. She felt that first localized tingle that told her she was getting hot. His fingers worked persistently, and she pushed forward against his hand. One meaty forefinger slid up, met with minor resistance, and pushed through into the warm depths of her. Her cunt seemed on fire as it accepted the invader and drowned it in her lubricating fluids.
God, she thought, if he could make her feel this good this soon, she was just as happy as she'd said she was!
"I'm glad you're a big woman," he whispered. "I hope it's all right ... that you can take my peter in there."
Brenda didn't know what to say. She'd only made love to three men in her life, for one thing. But she didn't think that the size of her body had much to do with the size of her vagina.
"I'm sure I can," she said, hoping it was true.
"Sometimes girls are scared but ... it should be okay if I'm slow and careful." He panted as he spoke. "And I will be, I promise you, you darling!"
Brenda had a moment to think, ironically, that they both had their fears. She was afraid she'd be dry, unready, that the circumstances would turn her off. He was afraid he'd scare her. And of course, she supposed, men really had the bigger problem. A woman can always fake it but there's no way to fake a hard-on.
He rolled back and forth over her, moaning, his body hot as if in fever. Something about him seemed very young to her, very sweet and boyish.
This was no pretense, no sophisticated faking; he was really as excited and hungry for her body as he seemed to be.
When he pulled his finger out with a wet pop she tensed, holding her breath. Maybe she was a little scared of that huge dick, after all! she thought.
He rose up on his knees and held the heavy organ in his hand, gliding it back and forth over her damp cunt and ever so gently insinuating the head of it between her labia. She drew in a breath, knowing her pussy was quaking avidly, wanting to be filled. At the same time in her mind was a picture of his enormous organ and she wasn't at all sure what the results might be.
Dipping his fingers in, holding the lips apart, he aimed and pushed the pulsating head, burying it in the first layer of moist pink flesh.
It felt big and blunt, as if it had been stopped, but he swayed back and forth and another inch slid in. Slowly, by keeping up the pressure, he got it in. She continued to lie still under him, yielding her body up to him, almost afraid to move. Her little whimperings and moanings told him of her pleasure.
Terry paused a moment as if to give her body time to adjust to the enormous invader. It filled her so completely that she was sure it would split her belly open and she ached to feel the full length of the rigid erection. It was easier after a moment, as the wetness of the passage helped her vaginal walls gradually open to accept him.
The warm, elastic-like sheath slipped wetly over his sensitive, naked flesh and she mewled and whimpered under him as he hit bottom. His hardened balls slapped stingingly against the cheeks of her ass. For a moment she twisted as if to escape but he thrust the full strength of his body behind the pushing pelvis, screwing her with a twisting motion. And, to her agonized delight, he didn't wait for the sudden pain from his entry to subside before he partially withdrew and pounded home again, harder.
The thought of her lying skewered under him, completely subjugated yet accepting the mighty power of his organ, gave Terry a heady sense of power. All too often women chased him and then, at the final moment, rejected him out of fear of his cock or fear of their own capabilities.
He ground his pelvis into the squirming, tactile flesh beneath him and she answered him thrust for thrust, her hot cunt clutching at his member when he withdrew and opening wide to meet its returning stroke. She strained her back and arched her loins, lifting a few inches off the rumpled sheet. She groaned ceaselessly under his pounding body, opening and closing her legs around his hips as she worked up and down in her newly discovered abandon. Her mouth gaped and saliva collected in the corners. Her head flailed from side to side, sending her long, dark hair flying.
"Oooh God, it's wonderful!" she mumbled in her passion-roughened voice. "Fuck me harder, harder!"
"I'm coming," she gasped suddenly. "I'm coming," she repeated, her mouth gaping and drooling in complete abandon.
Why in the world did I ever fear this swinging life? she asked herself. But any answer was drowned in the tide of hot spasms that rippled over her naked, bucking body.
The woman lay on her back, spread-eagled, her arms maintaining her balance while her legs were lifted aloft. Eager male hands held her ankles in the air, while other sets of hands pulled back the flesh of her thighs where it curved in toward her thick muff of pubic hair. Every man who searched for a matching number had run at least a finger over the goodies spread out for him, until her cunt was dripping and wide open. She'd started out laughing but now she began to moan and twist in passion.
Don felt a small relief that the number displayed on her squirming flesh did not match his. He was hot and ready to go but something held him back; he wasn't sure what it was.
He couldn't help wondering how Brenda was doing. He'd seen her leave the room with that big-cocked man and a small snake of jealousy uncoiled itself in the pit of his stomach.
"Can't you find anybody?" a voice said behind him as a soft hand trailed over his buttocks.
It was Lita, brushing close to him. Her small high breasts rubbed against his arm and he shuddered at the heat of her body.
"The hell with your game," he said roughly. "Let's fuck!"
"Why Don," she teased him, "you've gotten so aggressive."
He looked around the room. Everybody had paired up ... even the woman whose thighs he had just explored was walking away with another man. He and his hostess seemed the only two still unattached. Light burst into his brain.
"You! You're the one!"
"Number one. That's right!"
So she had arranged it, Don grinned. The mischievous devil! He was flattered to know she'd want him again so soon, particularly with all the men here to choose from. And he realized she was probably the one woman who could keep his mind off Brenda.
"Come on, Number One," she said, leading him to a dark corner. The thick carpet was piled high with pillows. It wasn't exactly private; a couple lying next to them were doing sixty-nine. He paused a moment to watch the curly blonde head bobbing up and down on the guy's erect dick, and to appreciate the skill with which the man held her thighs apart and darted his tongue in and out.
If he'd been hot before, that made him blazing. He turned to Lita, thrilled as before with her petite yet voluptuous body. The pink spheres of her breasts were cupped in her hands, inviting him to touch and kiss and admire the rosy nipples. He bent and suck each one as his hands roamed her slender body.
He pushed her down on the pillows and immediately went to her crotch. This was no time for the niceties of love-making, Don thought. He knew instinctively that she was as hot and reckless as he and he wanted to do something to her, something different that she'd remember always.
He spread her legs and all the treasures of her secret places were wide open to his view. Even in the dim light, he could see the bright pink lips of her cunt, already moistened, shining through the trimmed triangle of hair. He'd always meant to ask her why she kept it so obviously clipped, close and neat, but this was not the time for words.
In spite of her eager sexuality, her clit was still a small, unexcited bud. Flicking it with a finger, he watched it respond while the mouthlike orifice behind it opened hungrily. The half-moons of her buttocks gleamed pearl-like in the darkness, divided by the tight crease between them. He spread them apart with his hands, seeing the tiny anus nestling mysteriously and invitingly below the swelling, rosy lips.
Don began to find the sense of power he needed, the feeling that he was controlling his own destiny. Brenda's long denial had left him marred somehow, unsure of himself in spite of the events of the week. This was the night, he thought, to prove his manhood to Lita. He would tease this woman and torment her, and fuck her until she cried for mercy.
And he realized that, glad as he was to have drawn her as his partner, she had planned it that way. He was sick of being maneuvered and outwitted by women.
His lips crept slowly down her squirming thigh, pausing now and then at sensitive spots for a quick, wet caress. Groans of delight escaped from Lita's clenched lips as he reached the moist, ready slit and covered it with bites and kisses. When he put his mouth around the upstanding bud of her clit and sucked it hotly, he felt with pleasure the involuntary grinding of her hips.
Pulling her up by her round buttocks, he buried his face in the steaming crotch! His tongue thrust like a knife of fire down through her crease where it lingered, stabbing and probing at the tight asshole.
Abruptly he shoved her aside. "Get up and turn over."
He knew what she thought. He'd taken her dog-fashion only the other night, and she assumed the same thing would happen again.
And he was right, although he didn't know Lita's moment of disappointment. She was as excited as he, thrilled gut-deep with the erotic situation and all the passionate action around her. She too wanted to do something different and daring, and hoped that he would feel the same. But she kept her thoughts to herself and obeyed him.
Looking over her shoulder, she could see the huge, fleshy instrument poised over her ass. He was rubbing it with his hands, bringing it to its full, throbbing erection. When he hunched forward over her, parting her quivering buttocks, she moved to present her gaping maw to his hard cock. With satisfaction, she felt the spongy flesh push into her slit and her vaginal walls began working to retain it. She gasped with frustration when it was quickly withdrawn.
Lita couldn't believe what he was doing. Not Don, it couldn't be! she thought.
First his strong hands opened her buttocks, drawing the cheeks wide apart. She tried to hold them tensed together but the pressure of his thumbs inserted in the moist crevice was too great. They were cruelly stretched away from each other until she could feel the cool air rushing into the hot interior.
"Don! What are you doing? Please don't!"
Her pleading cry added to his satisfaction and he had a sense of rightness, as if finally everything was falling into place for him.
He knew the tiny opening was too tight, and he'd have to open it up somewhat.
She could feel the tip of his finger at the entrance to her rectum and she clenched the sphincter muscles tight in a desperate effort to stop the cruel penetration she knew was coming.
She could have cried out if she'd really wanted to, and been spared this. But the rules of the evening, her own rules, kept her from screaming for help. Her ass was not virginal; Bill had done this to her once or twice and she knew that after the initial pain would come exquisite pleasure. But the thought of the preliminary agony was almost more than she could take.
She relaxed slightly as the pain was not so great as she'd expected. Besides, he wouldn't go through with it, she thought, he wouldn't dare. She thought she had Don figured out and that he was a nice, gentle man who would always do the right thing, regardless of circumstances.
Then she jumped as she felt the extra pressure of another finger rammed unexpectedly alongside the first. This time she had to bite the back of her hand to keep from crying out. She tried to pull herself up on the pillows, away from him.
"Stop it! You're hurting me," she hissed through clenched teeth. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks as the realization came to her that she couldn't escape him, not without making a fool of herself. She despised women who did but she didn't know if she were prepared to take this ultimate humiliation and surrender. And particularly from Don. She was the one who seduced him. She had taken the lead every time and she enjoyed that, but now he was taking over.
As suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out again. Then in again, in a fucking motion. With his palm planted firmly in the small of her back, he held her tight. The fucking fingers drove cruelly into her anal passage, expanding it mercilessly as she twisted and turned. The tight, narrow hole was being prepared for his coming assault.
The fingers slid out again, reluctantly, the elastic rim of her asshole clinging to them until they popped out with a slight sucking noise. He forced her legs wider with his knees, dropped his head to her buttocks and licked wetly at the crevice between. For one moment, to her temporary relief, he dipped his cock into her cunt, swirling it in the moist cavity and then rubbing the lubricating fluid around the anal opening. The tiny hole was slicked for the greater entry.
At this point Don was only vaguely conscious of where he was and of the panting, squirming bodies all around, him. His world had narrowed itself to the small space occupied by him and this lewd, tempting body.
"Kneel up!" he said and when she hesitated, he jerked her hips into a kneeling position. Her breasts pressed tightly against the pillows. With her ass high in the air, she was an open invitation to the cruel ravishment.
"You mustn't do this, Don! Please don't!"
No matter what she said, he was well aware that her distress could not be too great. She could have freed herself or caused a scene at any moment.
His hands grasped harshly at her hips, holding them steady in the air. She felt the head of his thick cock at the widened entry. She gritted her teeth and made up her mind not to scream, whatever happened.
His hands traveled down over her buttocks, his thumb pressing on either side of the small brown hole. She could feel the elastic muscle stretching as widely as he could pull it. Then she felt a probing between the thumbs. The touch was rubbery at first, not unpleasant until it grew into a hard, unresistable force.
"Oooohhh!" she gasped, biting on the pillow to still her cries. The tight, resisting ring was giving way before the blunt pressure and suddenly the tip popped inside with a jerk.
No matter how prepared she was, his next move caught her by surprise. She pulled away spasmodically but there was no escape as the blunt intrusion of his cock vibrated through every fiber of her being. The rigid flesh pushed her rubbery passage in waves of agony. It filled her backside as completely as if she were impaled on a wooden spit.
And then the coarse hair of his loins smacked heavily into the softness of her buttocks.
Don felt some easing of tension as he began to saw back and forth. It wasn't that different from a really tight cunt, he thought. And Lita's panting acceptance confirmed what he thought; this was not the first time she'd had her asshole reamed by some man's cock.
Her pain was lessening and she became aware of a new sensation, the slow beginning of erotic enjoyment. She was startled to realize that her body was moving backward to meet the thrust of his cock. From the shoulders down her tingling flesh was undulating with excitement. Her buttocks swung in tiny rotating circles, clasping tight to the invading rod. A tide of warmth swept up from her loins as she realized how completely he'd conquered her.
Feeling her renewal of desire, Don surged into her with greater power. He'd asserted himself, and she was loving it.
He wished he could see her face and he strained for a glimpse as she rolled her head back and forward on the pillows. Whenever he could see it, she was flushed red from the intensity of her effort, her eyes wide in concentration. She bucked and churned beneath him, trying not only to bring herself to orgasm but him too.
He rammed into her fast, hard and deep, his balls smacking wetly against her upturned ass. Feeling his muscles tense with the triumph of climax, he jogged forward with a mighty thrust that seared up her stretched anus like fire. Ignoring her shrill cry, for the first time genuinely unaware of anything but himself, he slammed in again and again, stretching the narrow hole past belief. He gasped and bent over her naked back, shivering and quaking, while his sperm shot deep into her asshole. When he reluctantly withdrew his deflated cock the thick, milky fluid spilled its warm wetness down her crease and thighs.
Remorse came over him suddenly and he pulled her into his arms. "Did you come too, honey?"
"Yes, I did, damn you!" But she chuckled as she swore at him and he knew he was forgiven for whatever hurt he had caused her.
At home alone with Brenda, he would have curled up and gone to sleep after such a strenuous workout. But although his body was depleted, at least for a time, Don's brain was far from ready to quit. The exercise had made him sober and dried out his mouth.
"Wow! How about a drink?" he muttered through dry lips.
Although most of the room was darkened, light glowed behind the bar. In the faint brightness he could see others who had, presumably, finished their "first round" and come to be revitalized by a fresh infusion of liquor.
"Martini?"
She made a face. "I'd better switch to Scotch. I still have to get the supper on the table."
"Not for my sake," he grinned. "I'd rather eat you."
They leaned against the bar, quietly satisfied.
"Did I hurt you?"
"You know you did, you bastard!"
He couldn't keep the grin of satisfaction off his face. He was no sadist but he had to admit he enjoyed dominating this girl. She'd played around with him, always leading the way, and it was his turn.
He looked through the dimness, searching for Brenda. Her height made her easy to spot as a rule, and he concluded she wasn't in the room. He was uneasy about her but after all, she wasn't exactly alone with that guy. If he gave her any trouble, all she had to do was shout.
He hoped that this evening would cure her coldness toward him and she'd be her old loving self again. On the other hand, he had to admit he hoped she didn't enjoy herself too much. He knew it was silly but the size of that guy's equipment made him jealous, and he'd be willing to bet every other man at the party felt the same way.
"I'd better go put some things in the oven," Lita said regretfully. "If everybody was as busy as we were, they'll have worked up some good appetites by now."
"Need some help?"
"No, thanks, darling. There's not much to do."
He decided to switch to Scotch himself and had just mixed a highball when Brenda appeared at his elbow. She looked sleekly beautiful and had a dreamy look on her face.
"Fix me one too, Don."
How's it going?" he asked, handing her the drink.
"Fine, fine . . . and you?"
"Okay." He knew his voice sounded surly but he didn't care.
"Something's bothering you. What happened, did you have ... well, some kind of problem?"
"Certainly not. I told you, it's okay."
She studied his face in the dim light. "Something is wrong. And I think you're angry and ... jealous. This was your own idea, you know. You wanted to bring me here."
"That's not the point." He knew he was a fool to start a quarrel here, but the sight of her canary-feathers smile irked him. "What I don't understand is how you've changed toward me. You're having a ball fucking other guys, but all I get a home is a good-night kiss."
"Oh Don, it won't be like that any more, don't you understand? I'll prove it to you . . . right now, if you want. Or we can go home and I'll show you. I love you, darling, don't you know that?"
He couldn't doubt the truth in her voice. He relaxed, satisfied now mentally as well as physically. Maybe the swapping had done it after all, loosened her up, gotten rid of Whatever devils were riding her.
He blinked and turned as another light came on and voices sounded at the doorway. Late arrivals. He looked with interest at the couple who, daringly, wore only coats over their nudity. Wow! he thought. If they had a flat tire on the way home, they'd be in the soup!
But he dug it, it was kicky. He dug it even more when the wife dropped her coat on the floor and he saw her fully. It wasn't the pretty face that caught his eye, though, or the luscious figure. She had painted herself with an artist's skill, her naked body gleaming white against the soft colors of the body-paint. Two long stalks of green stem grew from her pubic hair, twined around her body and burst into full bloom on each breast. Man, that was something else! Don thought.
Grinning, he turned to Brenda to share his appreciation. But she was blank-eyed and rapt, staring beyond the painted girl. He followed her gaze to the muscular, lean man in the doorway.
"Guy," Brenda murmured, her eyes glistening and her sharp tongue wetting her lips. "It's Guy."
Chapter 8
How long had this been going on? Don wondered. With narrowed eyes, he watched the tall, slim man with the crop of tightly curled black hair. He had to admit, grudgingly, that the stranger was handsome if you like the type. Don wasn't sure what type he was except that it wasn't his.
There was no question in his mind that Brenda knew this Guy, and had been involved with him. It was in every look they gave each other, in their shy avoidance of standing near enough to touch. And the man was as aware of Brenda as she was of him.
A lot of things suddenly became clear. His puritanical wife had been in love with Guy, Don knew now. She had slept with him, had been thoroughly involved. The part that hurt Don was her turning so cold toward him afterward. Evidently Guy had something that made her despise other lovers, until she was forced to it as she had been by this party.
And Vd been jealous of that young stud with the big cock! Don thought.
Don looked around, realizing that neither Brenda nor Guy were in sight. He'd been lost in thought for a long time. He resolved not to let it spoil the party for him. If Brenda was off screwing her boy friend, well, she might have tonight even if she'd never seen him before.
Supper had not yet been served and the party was going strong. The heavy, musky scent of sex filled the air and the room vibrated with naked, swaying, dancing flesh. The couples were moving slowly to the haunting music, sensually touching and stroking. It was too dark to make out faces and identities and the whole thing had the quality of a highly erotic dream.
He saw an attractive blonde by herself, and a second look told him it was the girl with the body paint; Guy's wife. He made his way across the room to her, determined to have fun whatever happened.
Nothing Brenda could do would disturb him now! he thought, as he looked forward to his second encounter of the evening.
"You at a swap party?" Guy asked.
Brenda and Guy sat on the steps leading up to the finished attic. The door was open ... they weren't alone because others passed the entrance now and then. But they were isolated in their emotions, as if they were the only people in the house.
"Why not?" Brenda answered coldly.
They sat quietly for a moment and then Brenda said, irrelevantly, "Your wife is beautiful."
"Thank you." His voice was even colder than hers.
"You better get circulating," she said, "before all the good women are gone. Don't waste your time sitting here, Guy. You already know what it's like to fuck me."
"You bitch!"
"Well, that's what you came for, isn't it?"
"And what did you come for," he said viciously, "a bridge game?"
Brenda took a deep breath and told herself not to be ridiculous. Sure, there was still something between her and Guy ... he was more than just a quick lay. But it was over, and a good thing too. She mustn't let him get her upset like this, she thought.
Already she knew that Don suspected something was up, and Guy's wife must, too. They had gravitated together as if pulled by magnetism, but once they reached each other, they had nothing to ay. Nor did they let their hands or bodies touch. But the way they looked in each other's eyes, only a blind man could not guess that they'd known each other before ... and known each other well.
"Listen, Guy," she said placatingly, "let's not quarrel. It's stupid, because it isn't that important. We had a thing for a while and it's over. We don't need to beat each other to death."
"You're right ... I'm being childish. I have to admit, my big problem was seeing you here naked. I mean, I guess I still felt deep inside that you belong to me."
"So does your wife, but she's here."
"Yes ... I told you I was being ridiculous."
Brenda felt suddenly reckless. "You know what would cure us? If we'd go in the living room and really have at it, fuck each other in front of the whole crowd. That would make it like all the other action here and destroy its . . . importance."
Guy laughed. "I'm not so sure I'm ready for that. But at least, let's go have a drink and then dance."
Hand in hand, they found their way back to the living room and mixed drinks at the bar. The potent liquor slid down her throat and spread a pool of warmth in her belly.
"Come on." Guy took her hand and pulled her away from the bar.
She lifted her arms to his neck and hung there a moment, swaying to the music and humming. The points of her tits brushed against his hairy chest and his shoulders felt strong and capable. But he pulled her loose and took her in his arms in the more conventional dancing position.
She didn't recognize the music but it was rock, with a heavy beat and a seductive tempo. She and Guy danced in the middle of the room, swaying with their bodies inches apart but not touching each other. Their movements were slow, sensual, and she couldn't resist rolling her hips erotically. But still, their bodies didn't quite touch. She felt beautifully primitive, caught up in the music and the flaring of their emotions.
Her eyes half closed, her head thrown back, pelvis arched so it pointed at his groin, she rolled her hips in ever-widening arcs. Guy was caught up in it too and they danced their savage sexuality in perfect rhythm.
Something brushed her leg and without looking down, she knew it was his cock. She couldn't pretend any longer. Her arms moved up again around his neck and her body clung to his, pressing the swollen dick hard against her belly. Her hands rubbed softly over the back of his neck. The burning itch in her cunt was driving her insane, and nobody could stop that itch but Guy. Her body had long ago discovered the sweet pleasures of fulfillment and now at all costs she mean to have it again.
Taken by surprise, he bent to kiss her. His surprise turned to something stronger when he felt the warmth of her clinging lips and snakelike tongue that slithered into his mouth. This couldn't be his shy Brenda! Guy thought. For a moment he was repelled, thinking of the other men who had had her this night, and the bold ways she must have learned from them.
But the insistent mouth on his sucked and moaned and in spite of himself, he felt his tongue responding, being drawn into her hot mouth and circling its moist, demanding tongue.
His hands moved on her back and pulled her close, stroking the taut skin. He trembled in excitement as her fingers crept between their bodies.
"Brenda, Brenda," he groaned. "I've missed you so much!"
"Me too, unbearably. But what can we do?"
"Think of something, like right now," he said, laughing and pulling his face away.
She smiled too. It wasn't too hard to think of a remedy for their mutual condition.
"But does it have to be in the center of the room?" He was teasing her. "We're bound to get stepped on!"
They wandered down the hall and were lucky enough to find a whole bedroom to themselves. Guy promptly locked the door. "I'm not shy," he said, "but I sure don't want to be interrupted.
Come on now, lie down and talk to me."
She could feel his tenseness and the fact that his erection had died told her that he still had mixed emotions and doubts about his feelings about her. So she pushed him onto his stomach and knelt beside him, kneading his back until the tight muscles relaxed.
"So talk," she whispered, but he was drifting, almost asleep under her soothing fingers. She pinched him playfully and he reacted at once, rolling over and grinning up at her. She flung herself on him, her full breasts pressing on his bare chest.
Her hands flew behind his head while her hips pressed him to the bed like a warm, pulsing hand. She pulled his head nearer to her seeking mouth and covered it with hot, wet kisses. The pounding of her blood demanded release.
Guy was astonished. Always before their love-making had been sweet and tender and always, always, he'd taken the lead. Brenda was cooperative but never aggressive. He could hardly believe it was the same woman yet the familiar weight of her and the large, creamy breasts on his chest were achingly familiar.
He put his arms around her and let his hands trail down her slim waist to find the quaking globes of her ass. With growing excitement and confidence, he grabbed the rounded buttocks and squeezed and kneaded them, feeling the excitement begin to build in his groin.
Vll show him, Brenda thought, what a really sexy female is! He never really knew me before! I was always so full of guilt that I didn't let myself go. But I will now!
She reached between their close-pressed bellies, found his groin and slipped her hand into the damp warmth to cup his limp penis in her hot fingers. She felt it growing under her touch as she stroked the sensitive cords underneath and pulled at the flaccid length of it.
Her other hand, too, crept down and eager fingers surrounded his balls, gently bouncing and teasing them until they too began to swell and grow firm.
Guy was lost in the sweetness of her flesh. For long moments he wasn't really sure where he was or whose were those hot hands that aroused his manhood. He spread her soft thighs apart and reached for her slit, rinding it already oozing its lust-inciting juice.
In some strange way he still felt guilty, as if he were cheating on his wife ... even though she was in the same house for the same purpose. And that guilt turned into anger at himself for being such a fool. He felt resentment and lust all at once and there was only one answer-Ho take it out on
Brenda.
With a rough motion he dislodged her from his belly and lay her spread-eagled on the sleek satin bedspread. He crouched over her, his sudden erection standing hard and firm from his flat-bellied body. The pulsating veins surged toward the swollen head, already tipped with the pearly drops of his escaping seminal fluid.
He heard her moan when she looked down at his cock and, taking it for fright, he laughed out loud. This was what happened to aggressive women, women who managed to make him lose his poise and balance. She'd asked for it, and she was going to get it! Guy thought.
He leaned forward, his mouth ajar, his eyes devouring the sight of her swollen breasts and then down to the full roundness of her thighs and her white, smooth belly. He was going to shove his dick in so hard and so far, she'd think it was coming out her throat! he thought.
He circled his arms around her trembling body, delighting in the smooth feel of her skin and the agitated breathing that made her breasts rise and fall in quick succession.
"Oooooh, Guy!" she whispered as she felt his hands probing about the opening of her vagina. She spread her thighs widely while her mind tried to cope with the reality of the moment and realize that it was indeed her lover who was about to ravish her body.
She was desperately afraid of calling him Don, or Bill, or even Terry at some climactic moment.
She jerked and bucked her hips upward toward his searching hands, groaning with pleasure when he thrust a strong finger up, past the lips of her cunt, and pushed it roughly deeper and deeper into the opening in her quaking flesh.
Once again he misunderstood her groan of pleasure. Remembering her fear and shyness from the past, he laughed as the smothered scream forced its way out of her lungs. He pushed deeper until the palm of his hand was pressed flat against the open lips of her pussy, and ground his finger round and round.
And then he forgot everything except the urgent necessity for plunging his cock deep into her liquid depths and losing himself in the sheer animal lust of the moment.
With a moist, sucking sound, he slowly withdrew his thick finger from her cunt. He reached for his erect penis and, sliding backward between her scissored legs, aimed the swollen, purple head up against her labia.
He pulled her body close to him and inched his way between the outer flanges, feeling a happy surprise at her moist state of readiness. Her cunt seemed to swallow him up with a gulp! He could feel her hips moving and her buttocks grinding as the clutching walls of her vagina closed on his cock. Every inch of him felt the slippery wetness as he moved tentatively back and forth, swinging slowly into his rhythm.
Brenda gave a deep sigh of relief when he was finally inside her. She wanted him so badly! she thought. She wanted his cock in her, not just any cock, and she'd been so afraid the past would make him avoid this.
She thought of the baby she might have had. The idea of that lost embryo never left her mind and she hungered for it with a deep, soul-wrenching need.
Don was the one she loved, but Guy had gotten her pregnant.
She began to buck and writhe and force her firm vagina against the captured cock, to ease the burning itch.
Gasping and panting with delight, Guy began to rock rhythmically and gently in and out of the soft confines of her wet, velvety cunt. His fingers gripped her soft thighs with unknowing force and little whimperings were squeezed from her throat as she struggled under him. The blood-engorged head of his cock grew even larger, meeting the challenge of her avid muscles.
He gritted his teeth and began fucking her with long, hard strokes, each time letting the swollen rod drag over her erect clitoris with tantalizing slowness.
When he had her skewered up to the hilt, he exulted at the slap of his balls against her buns. She was so open, so lustfully cooperative! he thought. He lost track of what he was doing and smacked in and out, each time aiming at a different part of that wet, clutching hole, trying to create a wilder abandon in his passionate partner. Reaching frantically around her squirming ass with both hands, he separated her buttocks so his balls could bounce directly off the sensitive rim of her asshole. Knocked here and there by the strength of his attack, Brenda's legs waved helplessly in the air as she braced her hands on the bed. She slid her hands under the small of her back to help support her pelvis in its frantic drive. Moaning deep in her throat, she felt the first quivering signals of her climax race through belly and buttocks. Using her whole body as a weapon in one concentrated motion, she drove harder again against that piston that pounded into her.
She came with a great, shuddering moan and tears ran down her face.
Guy leaned over to kiss and lick away her tears. "I love you, my darling Brenda," he whispered.
Before he could move again, his orgasm jerked and twitched him as if he were a puppet on a string, while the white-hot spurts of semen foamed out of the fleshy lips around his cock, drenching the matted, mingled hair and running over her thighs.
When his heart stopped pounding, he raised his head and looked at her, at her tear-stained cheeks and smiling lips.
"I want to tell you something, and I want you to remember it," he said. "There are orgasms and there are orgasms and I've never felt with anyone else what I've felt with you."
"Really?" Her voice was as fine as a silk thread.
"Really. I don't know if it means anything to you, but you've given me some of the most thrilling moments of my life."
"I felt it too."
Even in her relaxed happiness, she knew what he was trying to tell her. They didn't belong together, she and Guy, and they never would. But all the same they had something very precious between them.
Again she remembered the baby that never was born, and an idea began to grow in her mind. It was fantastic, it was ridiculous ... but how wonderful if it worked! Brenda thought.
Guy was off her and in the adjoining bathroom washing up, but Brenda hardly noticed. She was thinking hard. How to arrange it, how to work out the details, who would have to know the secret.
And most of all, how to talk Don into agreeing with her plan.
Chapter 9
Don and Brenda lay side by side, in the comfortable familiarity of each other's bodies. It had been a long, active night but they were both still wakeful ... too excited to sleep.
"The supper was wonderful," she said, yawning, "but I wish I hadn't drunk the coffee. I don't really feel sleepy."
Don was in the near-hypnotic state that sometimes comes with exhaustion. He was too tired to move, but his eyelids obstinately remained open.
"Have a good time?"
"Sure," she said, "did you?:
"Ummmmmm, yes."
She was propped on her pillows with the sheet barely covering her beautifully round breasts. Her dark brown hair hung loosely over her shoulders, glistening in the light from the bed lamp. Her wide brown eyes looked bright and pleased.
She was so damn gorgeous! Don mused. It was no wonder that sometimes he felt that most shameful of all emotions ... jealousy. He knew it was crazy to feel that way, completely senseless. After all, she hadn't done a thing that he hadn't suggested, and done first himself. It was old-fashioned and just plain square to give in to those possessive thoughts.
The only trouble was, he didn't mind sharing her body. It was her mind and heart that he was jealous of.
"Don, tell me . . . not that it matters. But you and Lita made it the other day, didn't you?"
What ever made her think of that at this point? "Yeah," he said defensively. "I told you she laid the make on me. And after you'd turned me down for the five hundredth time ... well, I was easy."
"It's okay, I was just curious."
"I'm curious myself." He paused, knowing he should let it go and not mention something that would be sure to stir up trouble. But he couldn't help it. "How'd you enjoy the reunion with your old boy friend, Guy?"
"Old boy friend?"
"Come on, don't kid me. It was perfectly obvious. And his wife saw it too, in case you want to know."
"You talked about us."
"Of course we did. What do you think we are, stupid? Isn't it about time you told me about it?"
It was too late at night ... or morning, rather ... and they were both tired. She knew it wasn't the time to talk about Guy, nor about her wonderful secret plan. But on the other hand, perhaps it would be a good time to drop a hint, she thought. Just say a few words and let it go until morning. Give him time to digest the whole thing.
"He isn't important," she said truthfully. "Oh darling, I know I've given you a bad time this past year. And now we both know it was because of Guy. But I still say he isn't important in himself."
"I'm too tired for riddles," he answered curtly.
"Okay." She pulled the sheet over her shoulders and turned out the bed lamp. "It's no riddle if you think about it, darling. You're the one I love and always will. Guy is ... it isn't what he is, really. It's what he can give me. The one thing in the world I can't get from you."
Don heard her heavy breathing begin almost instantly, and knew she was asleep. He was on the verge of it, himself. His heavy eyelids finally were sealing themselves across his vision, and blackness came over him. He tried to think what it was she was telling him but the answer eluded him as he drifted into sleep.
"A baby!" Don said accusingly. "You're throwing it up to me that Guy could get you pregnant and I can't."
"Not throwing it up to you darling, just mentioning a fact." Brenda went on buttering her toast, but her hands trembled.
"I still don't want to adopt a child," he said. "But that's not the point, is it? The thing I don't get is, why Guy? There's a million men around who could get you pregnant."
She chewed her toast, and waited. "I get it," he said slowly, "he already did it." "Yes ... and I had an abortion." "Without my even knowing it? That's impossible!"
She explained placidly that the foetus was hardly six weeks old, and all that had been involved was a simple scraping of the womb. "You remember when I had that D&C last year? I told you it had been for cystitis or something like that."
"And that's when you got so cold ..." His voice trailed off as he thought of the past and put everything together. He'd forgotten entirely about that simple operation. Brenda never complained, she said it didn't hurt at all. The only thing was they had had to refrain from marital relations, as the doctor had put it, for a week or so.
And, come to think of it, they never had begun again, or at least not on the old basis.
"But if you're worried about Guy, forget it,"she said evenly. "I haven't seen him since the operation, until we ran into him at the party last night."
"And a good thing, too, from what Jenny says." Jenny ... that was his wife's name, Brenda didn't think she'd known anything about the brief affair, any more than Don had.
"What was she going to do to him? Or us?" "It isn't that," Don said wearily. "It's just that he's no good. He's always running around and conning some babe into thinking he's in love. But in the end he always runs back to Jenny."
"She told you that? Some loyal wife, isn't she?
Why does she take him back if he's so rotten?"
"Because she loves him, I guess."
Brenda tried to open her mind to the truth, if that was what it was. But to her it sounded more like sour grapes. Guy had never complained about his wife, but now and then he couldn't help but let remarks drop. Jenny was the one who ran around and had affairs with other men. And Jenny was the one who didn't want children, who was spoiled and petulant, who overspent and was only interested in clothes and frivolities. That was why Brenda's pregnancy had affected Guy so strongly ... because he wanted children and Jenny refused to have a baby.
Brenda had spent a lot of time shutting out the memory of Guy but it was all there, under the surface, waiting to come out. He was so sweet, she thought, so thoughtful. When he made love to her, he had a tenderness that made it more than just sex.
And it had happened again last night. They both denied it, but they knew it was there.
"It's Guy's money," she said, the contempt clear in her voice. "Jenny has a good thing going there and she knows it. She's not about to leave him as long as the dough keeps rolling in."
Don was looking at her as if he despised her. -"How can you be so naive, Brenda? Guy is in business with Jenny's father. He's never made a dime by himself but the old man carries him because of Jenny." "Lies! All lies!"
She didn't know why she was defending Guy or why they had to quarrel over a woman neither of them really knew. But she couldn't just sit here and listen to this bunch of crap, she thought, spilled out to a susceptible man by a jealous woman. To know the truth all she had to do was think of last evening. Jenny wanted attention, obviously. She couldn't come to the party on time like everybody else. She had to arrive late and make an entrance, complete with her lousy body paint.
Don slammed his cup down and shoved back his chair. "Okay, so you know it all. I'm going down to the office for a while."
He stalked out of the room and moments later, she heard the bang of the front door.
Brenda wanted to cry because they had quarreled, but she knew she was in the right. It was Don's jealousy that caused the fight. She'd known all along it would happen, as soon as he heard that she'd gotten pregnant by someone else. Otherwise he would have been able to see Jenny's lies for what they were.
She wandered around the house unhappily, knowing instinctively that Don wasn't really at the office. He didn't have any work to do there. Besides, she'd phoned and let it ring for a long time.
By the middle of the afternoon Brenda was strung up tight. She didn't want her marriage to be like this. On the other hand, she was not about to admit that Don was right when he wasn't. If he'd only call, she thought, she'd be sweet and simply avoid the whole subject of Guy and Jenny.
When the phone rang, she knocked a chair over in her hurry to answer it. "Hello?"
"Brenda? I was hoping you'd answer the phone."
"Ohhhh, Guy. Yes, I'm alone here."
"I just bet you are. You heard about the talk Don and Jenny had last night?"
"Did I ever! Don didn't even finish his breakfast."
"Jenny didn't wait that long. We were up all night arguing and she packed up this morning and went home to Daddy."
"Does she know about ... about the baby?"
"Yes. I lost my temper and ..." His voice was heavy. "Listen, honey, I want to see you. Talk to you. But I don't think I'd better show up there. How about coming here?"
It was reckless of her but she felt the same way he did, that they had to get together and talk it over. If Jenny had really moved Qut, his place was the safest they could find.
Brenda's heart tripped erratically and her palms were wet as she turned into Guy's driveway. The house was not too far away and hadn't been hard to find.
It was half again as big and expensive-looking as hers and Don's, she realized, as he let her in the door. But she already knew of Jenny's extravagance.
"Darling!" Guy took her in his arms and held her close. "This is so damn frustrating and miserable! I've been almost out of my head since I saw you last night."
"Me too." She freed herself from his arms, determined to talk things over reasonably, in an adult manner. Don's words were still burning in her brain and she was frantic to know the truth.
"Guy, Jenny told Don all sorts of things. Things that really aren't any of my business, I guess, but. . . "
"I can imagine." He sounded and looked as if he'd been up all night. Dark shadows underlined his usually sparkling brown eyes.
"Come and sit down, Brenda. I'm so tired of talking, but I'll tell you anything you want to know."
She started to cry; she couldn't help it. "I told Don about my being pregnant... I didn't mean to. That is, I didn't mean to get into a big hassle with him. I had this bright idea ... I guess it was crazy."
"Tell me about it," he said soothingly. He sat close to her on the sofa and put a comforting arm around her.
"It's insane, I guess. I don't know. I never even got a chance to tell Don, but I thought maybe he'd let me get pregnant by someone else ... you, maybe. He doesn't want to adopt..."
Guy chuckled and nuzzled her forehead. "You little nut! I can just about see him going for that. That'll be the day pigs fly."
She knew he was right and it was a crazy idea. But she wanted a baby so badly, she thought, and so did Don.
"Don't talk for a minute," Guy whispered. "Just let me hold you." His arms held her tightly and he rocked her gently back and forth. "I was surprised to see you at a swap party," he said. "And I never did ask you, but I assumed you were using something. A diaphragm, or else you're on the pill?"
"The pill."
Her mind lulled by his nearness, she looked around the room. It felt strange and dangerous to be here, she mused, in another woman's house, but Guy wouldn't let her come to any harm. He was always so thoughtful and understanding.
"I'm not cold, not really," she murmured.
"Cold?" He laughed and pulled her closer, his hand going to one of her full breasts. "I told you last night, sweetheart. You are something very special to me. When we make love, I'm in heaven."
His hand moved back and up, to the zipper on the neck of her dress.
"The hell with Jenny and Don," he said, pulling the zipper tab down. "You're all upset... I know what'11 relax both of us."
Brenda felt happy and guilty at the same time, making love to another man in his wife's handsomely decorated living room. But she didn't really care. Her emotions had been on such a see-saw lately that she was worn out with thinking. She let him undress her and lay back on the sofa while he quickly stripped off his own clothes.
"You've changed, sweetheart," Guy muttered in her ear as he lay close to her. "You're ... you're bolder now and I love it!"
"Do you? Do you really?" '
"Yes. Take hold of my cock, darling. Hold it in your hands."
He fondled one of her breasts and she felt the heat starting through her body. "Oh, yesss, that feels so good," she moaned as she took hold of his already swollen dick.
"Make love to me," she moaned. "Put it in me, fuck me good!"
"Not yet, not yet. I want you to suck it, sweetheart, put it in your mouth. You've never done that for me."
She flung her head down and her warm lips encased his throbbing meat. She loved it ... loved the thick smooth skin sliding tautly and the acrid taste on her tongue. She let her tongue glide down the underside slowly and then played and kissed her way around the swollen head of it.
He pulled her hips up next to him and shoved her thighs apart, his head going into the split of her crotch. She felt his tongue laving her cunt lips and curling around her clitoris. She began to moan and vibrate, the excitement shooting up through her and stabbing into her trembling body.
"Do you like that?" he muttered. "Do you like it?"
"Oh yesss, yes!" Her body writhed and she shot her hips forward to give him greater access to her pulsating vaginal lips. She wanted it all at once ... his tongue sucking her clit and shooting up her cunt. Her buttocks tautened and her thighs spread farther apart while he licked and sucked, his hot tongue shooting its way into the wet, warm opening.
She wanted to please him at the same time. She bobbed her head up and down, trying to take the full hard length of it in her mouth and throat. Her lips worked avidly and her tongue caressed the blood-engorged head.
"Ooooohhh!" Guy groaned deep in his throat and released her, sitting up quickly. "Hurry, darling, hurry! I want to put it in your and fuck the living bejeezes out of you!" He grabbed her roughly and reversed her position, her body flopping loosely as he climbed on top of her.
Hastily he shoved his hardened prick betwen the quaking lips and drove it home with a strong flick of his hips. She felt the slap as their bellies met and thrust her pelvis forward to take it all, up to the hilt. Guy was right, there was something special about it that not even that big-dicked Terry had given her. Guy whispered soft, loving words as he pounded up and down, and his hands never stopped roving her eager body. He loved her, she knew he did.
"Fuck me, fuck me," she groaned in her passion-roughed voice.
Guy ground his pelvis into the squirming, tactile flesh as she answered thrust for thrust, her hot cunt clutching at his dick when he withdrew and opening wide to meet his pounding advance. She strained her back, opening up her loins, lifting them both bodily up from the sofa.
Relentlessly he pounded down until she felt his hot load shoot into her, while she gave a little satisfied moan and fell back against the cushions. They lay there together, his cock still inside her and although he'd come, she felt him moving as if to milk that last small ounce of pleasure from it. She clamped her vaginal lips together, making the walls of her cunt open and shut and smiled as she heard him moan deep in his throat.
It wasn't finished yet. His half-hard dick pulled back an inch and moved forward and she kept up the milking, rhythmic clamping. He swelled inside her; she could feel it as clearly as if she could see it.
Guy put his head on her breast and sucked on each of her tits in turn, his mouth warm and wet on the sensitive flesh.
"I could go on like this all day," she said dreamily.
Guy laughed and told her that while maybe she could, he wasn't quite up to that. But even as he said it he began to grow harder in her and she gave herself up to the desperate fucking that followed, letting him set the pace and only being there, being ready. He laughed in her ear and she knew he'd caught on to her trick, that he'd last longer that way.
It was long enough too, because when he came she did too. It was a shattering, heart-stopping, moaning and clawing climax. She arched her hips high in her frenzy, almost dislodging them from the narrow sofa, and when it was over she was limp, exhausted.
"You are just heavenly," Brenda said, as she mopped herself with a kleenex. "Light me a cigarette, honey, and now maybe we can talk."
They went over it all again. Brenda didn't have the courage to quote Don exactly but she tried to let Guy know what Jenny had said.
He shook his head sadly. "I'm not just saying this now, in a pinch, Brenda. You know that. I've told you before that my sweet wife will say anything, anything to get what she wants."
"I don't know what to do."
"There's nothing we have to do," he said. "She'll have a few days'vacation with Daddy, and then come home. Your Don will get over his anger. It'll all be okay, you'll see."
Brenda looked at him doubtfully. Was that what she really wanted to hear from Guy? She wasn't sure.
10
"... and so I thought the hell with it, and I went out and got drunk." Don sounded as miserable as he felt. He sat with his head in his hands, only raising it occasionally to sip from the cup of hot black coffee. It was his second cup and already the liquor fumes were fading from his brain, leaving him miserable physically as well as mentally.
"Those things happen." Bill's voice was carefully bland and Don sensed the lack of sympathy.
"Well, what would you have done?" he asked, a trace of belligerence in his voice.
"I'm sorry, Don. I know this seems terribly important to you now. But it's really a tempest in a teacup, isn't it? I can't see that there's any real problem. I mean, we all have our little upsets and quarrels now and then."
"Yeah ... and I suppose I'm keeping you from enjoying your Sunday. Poor Lita, she's probably bored to death waiting for me to sober up and get out of her kitchen."
"No, no. As a matter of fact," Bill hesitated, and then made up his mind. "We already knew a little bit about the situation. You see, Jenny showed up here a couple hours ago. She was all upset, too. I didn't know whether you felt like seeing her again, so I didn't mention it."
"Hell, it isn't her fault! But anyhow, I'll be on my way."
"Not unless you want to. And I don't think you will when you see what's going on ... Lita and Jenny have been working up a little surprise for us."
Don wasn't in the mood for a party, but on the other hand, he had no desire to go home and start up the fight again. Or, worse, have to put up with Brenda's cold silence.
"If I won't be in the way ..."
Bill laughed. "Not at all! I think you'll probably add a lot to the gathering. Come on, they're in the bedroom."
Don poured himself another cup of coffee and let Bill add a healthy splash of brandy. It was enough, he figured, to put himself right back in the bag, but he couldn't care less.
The bedroom door was closed. Before he opened it, Bill turned to Don with a smile that had something lecherous about it. "Don't be surprised at anything that happens," he said.
The curtains were closed and at first, all Don could see was the stretch of thick carpet and furniture in the gloom. Then he blinked his eyes, and blinked again. His first thought was that it was either a repeat of last night's party, or else the party had never really ended.
Two naked bodies, skin gleaming white in the dimness, lay on the bed. Their arms and legs were entwined lasciviously and they were kissing passionately.
That was Lita, sure enough. The faint light caught her auburn hair and made it glisten like a halo. But who was the guy? Then he blinked again and saw what was happening.
There was no guy.
The slim white back bent over Lita was too delicate and curvaceous to belong to a man. He could see the fine ridge of the spine and faint impression of her rib cage, narrowing down to a slim waist and flaring out again in a very feminine fashion.
Smudged color across the flesh puzzled him until he remembered Jenny's body paint. It had worn off here and there, but obviously she hadn't showered since the night before. The still discernable tracing of leaves and flowers cast an abandoned, lewd light on her twisting figure.
Not that she needed anything to add to her obvious sexuality.
"Pheeeww!" He whistled softly and turned to Bill, expecting to see anger or disgust. But his friend's mouth hung open slightly and his eyes were glazed, fascinated. Whatever was happening wasn't unpleasant to Bill, nor could it be new to him either.
His wife was making love to another woman, and Bill loved it.
Don lifted his mug and drank the hot coffee in one long gulp. The brandy burned all the way down but it settled his nerves.
Were these women ... hell, he couldn't even think of the word. Lesbians, yes, that was it. But that couldn't be! he thought.
He remembered Lita's highly-sexed body, and the way she'd enticed and seduced him. And not just once, but last night at the party as well as the other evening, with the whipped cream scene. No Lezzie could deceive him like that, he thought, there was no way!
Yet there was nothing fake about her rasping breath and the avid delight of the arms which pulled Jenny closer and closer.
Bill turned toward him, still moistening his dry lips, and said, "What's the matter, Don, shocked?"
"Well... a little."
But his fascinated gaze turned right back to the lewd activity on the bed. He realized that it was the idea of homosexuality, rather than anything that was actually happening. As a matter of fact, his tired body had begun to perk up already. The aches and pains dissolved in a warm feeling of strength and, he had to admit, in a stirring in his groin. There was something about seeing those two going at it that excited him, fantastic as it was.
"Sit down here."
He let himself be pushed into an armchair without taking his eyes off that luscious heap of female flesh.
Jenny raised her head and kissed Lita's cheeks and forehead and closed eyes, her sharp tongue darting out to lick quickly at the other woman's rapt face.
Lita's hand crept up and stroked Jenny's buttocks, and the pearly ass visibly quivered at the touch.
The two began moving their hips together, pressing their bellies hard on the firm female flesh. The long, tonguing kissing continued uninterrupted.
Don discovered he was gripping the arms of the chair, his knuckles white, his breath coming raggedly. He couldn't seem to sit still. His buttocks squirmed uncontrollably.
Then the girls moved. He watched open-mouthed as the two lovely women, their breasts dangling, hips swaying, turned end for end. Lita thrust her head between the other's thighs and with a quick movement, turned the submissive body so that Don was looking directly into the raised, exposed cunt. Then his view was shut off as Jenny's body lowered onto her friend's face. He couldn't see the hot, forceful tongue licking and stabbing into the eager cunt, but his imagination supplied the missing details.
Meantime, Jenny was doing the same thing for Lita.
Lita's slender fingers held the half-moons of Jenny's buttocks, pulling them wide enough so he could even see the small, brown asshole. Her fingertips worked against the pliant flesh, leaving white ridges from the strength with which she clutched them.
Don didn't need to look down to know that his cock was swelling into a ridge on the inside of his trousers. But he did look at Bill. In another chair, he was also completely hypnotized, with one hand in his crotch, stroking up and down.
Nobody ever told me about this, Don thought. Real life, loving women ... and they're making it together! Jesus H. Christ! They better hurry up before I get in the middle and make a sandwich!
And it didn't take them long, at that. Before the men's hypnotized gaze, the women came almost simultaneously. Don could see the ripples running over that sweet white flesh and his heart rose up and choked him.
"Pheeeww!" He whistled again without realizing it.
The girls rolled off the bed and stood up laughing, and the spell was broken. For a moment he thought they'd been joking, that it was all a fake put-on to astonish him. But there was nothing phony about their flushed cheeks and fast breathing.
Everybody was looking at him and he didn't know what to say.
"That was something else," he said lamely, feeling his erection fade in his embarrassment. "Hope you didn't mind my being here."
"Mind? We've been waiting for you," Lita said between breaths. "And it wasn't easy, either. Waiting, I mean."
"That's right," Jenny chimed in. "We knew you'd be feeling blue so we decided to put on a show to cheer you up. But it almost ... " she shot a smiling glance at Lita ... "got out of hand while we were waiting!"
"I never saw anything like that in my life before," he said solemnly.
"I thought not." Bill sounded a bit smug. "I know you're new to swapping so I figured you still had hang-ups. You and Brenda both."
He looked quickly at Jenny when his wife's name was mentioned but she was smiling, combing he* hair in front of the mirror.
"It doesn't bother you when they, you know, make it with each other?"
"I should say not! In fact it turns me on more than anything else ... I'm ready for a little nooMe right now, in fact. And after last night, I didn't think I'd ever want to see another tit or ass again!"
Lita came over and perched on the arm of Don's chair. He put his hand up and met the smooth, resilient flesh of her hip. He jumped as if he'd touched a hot stove.
"You've got a lot to learn," she said sweetly, running her hand over his forehead. "But I'll say this much, you're a good pupil!"
Lita reached down and tugged at his belt buckle. He jumped up quickly and opened it and unzipped his trousers, stepping out of them. "Me next, honey?"
"You next, but sit right back down again."
Removing his shorts and feeling like a fool in his sport shirt and cardigan, he let her push him back down in the comfortable chair. Just that small contact with her had brought his cock to life again and it soared up and out, the tiny slit on the end oozing clear fluid and looking like another eye.
"I feel in the mood for pole-vaulting," Lita kidded, standing straddle-legged in front of him. "And Jenny got me all wet and ready for you ... feel!"
She took his hand and pressed it between her legs. Her lubricating juices matted her pubic hair and seeped onto her tender skin. His hand burned again from the contact.
He wanted to get up and haul her onto the bed but she pushed him down again, saying, "Sit still, darling." With a movement that should have been awkward but wasn't, she got on her knees in Don's chair, her legs in a "V" over his body.
"Here we go," she teased, "sliding down the Maypole."
She took hold of his cock and aimed the head at her dripping cunt lips, shoving it up and in. Wriggling her hips like a madwoman, she slowly lowered herself on the fleshy spike. Her face flushed and her eyes gleaming with lust, she leaned forward and dropped small, hot, butterfly kisses on his face as her pulsing vagina absorbed all of him.
His knees moved almost by themselves, in short rapid strokes that bounced her up and down on his blood-engorged dick. It was awkward and yet totally erotic. Every time her entire weight slammed down on his groin he thought he'd pass out from sheer ecstasy. Her ass bounced on his bare thighs while he clutched her breasts and used them like reins, guiding her stroke.
A slurping noise made him turn his head sharply and look across the room. What he saw built his excitement even higher.
Jenny was tossed face down over the arm of a chair, her bare ass held high by Bill's tight grip. With heavy grunts and a strained face, he was pumping away ... into the painted girl's asshole.
Don gulped and remembered his similar adventure with Lita. His cock swelled inside her cunt so that she had to slow down and let her inner walls adjust to the greater size of their invader.
"You like?" Lita said sweetly.
"I like," he panted. "And I like you too, very much."
"Are you really hot?" she asked, twitching her hips enticingly.
"Don't you know it?" He was almost too agonized to speak.
"Okay, wait a minute ..." she looked over at the other couple and said, "Hey, Bill, don't get off yet! Let's have fun together!"
When she slipped off his cock he wanted to cry but she eluded his hands and led him over to the bed.
"Let's see," Lita said. "You get there, Don."
She positioned him on his back and again climbed on. "Giddyap, horsie!" she yelled playfully.
Meanwhile, as if by prearranged signal, Jenny and Bill joined them. He didn't know what was going to happen but he found out, when Jenny squatted over his face, lowering her pussy until his mouth and nose were pressed into it firmly.
He took his cue and with a rapacious tongue and lips, plundered her wet, gaping maw. He breathed in the musky scent of her sex and slurped his tongue over her slit, scooping up her juices as he laved her clit.
He felt her move suddenly, tilted forward so that her body lay along his chest and her arms braced on either side of him. Her viscous flesh was still in his mouth but at a different angle, a better one, where he could plunge his tongue into her, tongue-fucking her cunt.
He knew the reason for the move a moment later, when her entire body was shaken as if she were being regularly and rhythmically spanked from behind. She slid back and forward, her clit coming into slamming contact with his mouth.
Bill had joined them, and once again was fucking her in the ass.
To Don, it was weird and fantastic but he loved every moment of it. Completely caught up in the overwhelming sexuality, blinded by a bush of hair and scented thighs, his dick repeatedly assaulted by Lita's cunt, he lost all sense of time and place.
He could hear and identify each separate gasp and moan. Lita had a high, snuffling sound she made when she was excited. Jenny kept moaning, mumbling all the time: "Oh fuck, fuck . . . you're killing me, Bill. . . fuck, fuck me harder!"
And Bill was beyond words, evidently. His rasping breath was the loudest sound in the room.
Bill came first. Jenny's body was no longer buffeted from the rear and she ground down harder on his face, hunting her own release.
The other three came more or less simultaneously. Jenny gave a garbled scream and fell away from him and he drew a deep breath of air into his tortured lungs.
Then he and Lita went into climax together like a set of clashing gears, bouncing hard and out of control against each other's crotch. He felt the wet sperm shoot out of him and she was poised over his belly for a long moment. Then she too fell to the side and he let his body go in the heart-stopping moment.
"I don't know where to begin," Jenny said again, combing her hair in front of the mirror. She shot a quick glance at him and added, "I have a hard time understanding your wife. Or liking her."
Don felt on the defensive even though he too was angry with Brenda. "She's all right, just a little mixed up."
"I suppose so," she sighed. "But I'll bet you twenty dollars she and Guy got together this afternoon. By themselves. That's the part I don't get."
He had to admit he didn't either.
"Let's go back to the kitchen and have a drink." He couldn't think of anything to say to Jenny now that they were alone. They'd talked last night but they both were high. He didn't want to go into it all again.
She slipped into a robe of Lita's and found one of Bill's for Don. Just before they entered the kitchen she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"I'll tell you one thing that's not going to change. Guy's my husband and we're going to stay married, Brenda or no Brenda."
"Amen," he said fervently.
Lita fried bacon and scrambled eggs. Don manned the toaster and kept a pile of hot, buttered toast coming. They ate together in a strange sort of relaxed companionship, a buddy-type warmth he hadn't known since high school days. But even that made him feel guilty and selfish, as if he were excluding his wife.
"I'm going to run Jenny home," Lita said after she finished stacking the dishes. "You two have a cigarette and talk."
Once more Don was reluctant to get up and go home. The atmosphere here in this kitchen was warm and affectionate, and he didn't want to leave it. But he knew he had to.
"No, seriously," BUI said, "Lita's right. She thinks I should talk to you and tell you how we feel about things. You may not agree, but it won't hurt to listen."
Don was surprised but pleased. They sat there a long time. Lita came home and showered and was watching television, and still they talked.
Don had never had to think about a philosophy before, or the meaning of anything he did ... including swapping. He and Brenda never felt the necessity to discuss things as Bill and Lita evidently did. And that was part of his trouble, he learned.
He learned a lot of other things, too.
Physically and mentally exhausted but satisfied and content, he went home at last. He was glad to see Brenda's car in the garage, and gladder still to find a note:
"Darling, I'm so tired and have taken a sleeping pill and gone to bed. See you in the morning. I love you. Brenda."
She was curled up under the covers, one hand nestling against her cheek. Her mouth was sweet and relaxed but he thought he could see traces of tears on her face.
Poor baby, this wasn't her fault, all these misunderstandings and arguments. It wasn't really his, either, he was beginning to see. Now if he could only express himself as well to Brenda as Bill had to him, perhaps they could make a truce and start over. Their marriage was too good and too important to lose by one of them going off on a tangent.
He hoped he could make Brenda see it his way.
Chapter 11
She was still sleeping when he left the house in the morning. It was that evening, after dinner, when they finally sat down in the living room together, and Brenda snapped on the television.
"Laugh-In tonight," she said.
"How about a talk-in?" he suggested.
He could tell by her face and the tears that brimmed in her eyes that she wasn't ready yet to talk.
"Not about our quarrel, or our problems," he said gently. "In a way it's about that, but ... Now honey, don't cry, please!"
He couldn't take her any faster than she was willing to go so they watched television and went to bed.
Tuesday night was the same.
Wednesday night he came home determined to have it out with her, regardless.
She met him at the door with a martini and a smile, both encouraging signs.
"Dinner's all ready, I just have to put it on the table," she said. "So let's have a cocktail together and talk."
"Terry's wife called me this afternoon," she went on, "and invited us to a party Saturday night. You remember Terry, the one with the ... " she giggled ... "oversized equipment?"
"I remember him. Which one was his wife?"
"I haven't the vaguest idea! But she was awfully nice on the telephone. We had a long talk about swapping and all that."
"Yes?" He figured he would wait for his opening.
"She said they'd tried it both ways. Meeting strangers from ads, and belonging to a group like this. They really went into it scientifically, Don! I learned more about swinging this afternoon!"
"Yeah?"
"Well, she said they liked this way best. Not really a club ... a more or less informal group ... but mostly the same faces every time. She said a couple would get in now and then and last a few weeks, but if the group didn't like them, they were quietly dropped."
"That makes sense."
"And she said ... this is the interesting part, Don. She said they have all. gotten so close that they're almost like a family. Their house burned down last year and the swappers were just great! Took them in, found clothes for the kids and all that. They had trouble financing a new one, but they got a second mortgage from one of the men, I'm not sure who he is. But that's not the point ... "
Don couldn't help smiling to see her so happy and eager. "Okay, what is the point?"
"She said ... her name is Mary ... Mary said that a group like ours is just like an extension of the family. You know, the way everybody moves around these days and nobody has aunts and uncles and grandparents to help out in an emergency. So your friends fill in for family, if they're the right sort of friends."
"Couples that fuck together, are stuck together!" Then he grinned at her disappointed face and said, "I didn't mean that to be nasty, honey. As a matter of fact, that's one of the things I wanted to tell you. Bill was saying much the same to me."
"It made me feel good," she added.
"I agree. But I'd like to make one more point, honey. Couples that talk to each other are apt to solve their problems more easily. I mean, like you and me talking, as well as confiding in friends."
He didn't want it to sound like one of those speeches about "communication" and let it go at that. Brenda wasn't stupid. She'd get the point, and if she didn't, at least he'd made a beginning.
The week passed in a normal fashion. He couldn't help but wonder if Jenny and Guy would be at Saturday night's party but he didn't bring their names up and neither did Brenda.
When they got to the party, their hostess turned out to be a shapely, vivacious blonde, her hair a mop of silver-white curls. He remembered seeing her at the Grahams; he had admired her dimples and her contagious laugh.
"Come on in and sit down," she said. "Terry will get you a drink."
They recognized most of the faces from last weekend ... but the scene was definitely different. Everybody there was wearing clothes. Don wished he had some sort of guide-map to swapper parties. He thought he had it all figured out and then, bingo! They changed the rules. But he remembered Lita saying something about that. Every part was different, she said, according to the tastes of whomever was giving it.
He certainly hoped it was a swinging party, and not just a neighborhood Saturday night drinking session.
He and Brenda had been to enough of those. Sometimes they were supposed to be cocktail parties; other times, buffet dinners. But what they all amounted to was everybody getting completely soused and necking in the corners with somebody else's wife.
He guessed he was ridiculous in thinking of that kind of party as immoral.
In fact, anybody would laugh to hear him say it. But he'd come to realize that his own personal definition of immorality started with phoniness and went on from there. Whatever the swingers were, they certainly were honest in their desires.
Several drinks later, he'd resigned himself to an ordinary weekend drunk. But as the thought went through his mind, Terry stepped to the middle of the room and called for attention.
"You're probably wondering what the hold-up is," he said, smiling. "I'd planned a little extra entertainment for this evening but one of our entertainers had to be late ... I just heard their car in front a minute ago. So if you can be patient just a little bit longer, I think you'll agree that it was worth the wait. If she doesn't make your juices jangle, I don't know what will."
Naturally everyone turned to the door and so did Don. He was already confused. Neither Guy nor Jenny were there. Bill had waved at him from across the room, but although he'd looked, he hadn't caught a glimpse of Lita. He was a lot more interested in those three people than some entertainers.
Then the door opened. Guy and Jenny walked through it. And everybody clapped. Whatever the big deal was, it seemed that most of those here had seen it before, or at least knew about it.
Jenny was wrapped in a huge cloak that covered her completely. Its collar was turned up around her neck. Warm as the summer night was, there had to be a reason for that.
Jenny disappeared into the back of the house, a drink in her hand. Guy, Don was thankful to note, headed for the kitchen and stayed there or in the far end of the large living room.
He hadn't dared look at Brenda. Guy's name hadn't been mentioned since Sunday morning and he had no idea what his wife's thoughts about him were.
Terry bustled around refilling glasses before he said, "the lights go out." Moments later he flicked off the switches, after lighting a few candles here and there.
Don hadn't noticed the absence of music until the hi-fi came on, with a haunting yet unfamiliar melody. It had an insistent beat but the melody was soft and lyrical, not the heavy rock sound. A hush fell over the room.
It was velvety dark and he strained to see. One moment the center of the floor was cleared, and the next moment they were there ... two slim and graceful figures that glowed with all the colors of the rainbow.
As his eyes adjusted, he realized that there was a source of black light somewhere in the room, and the two were wearing fluorescent body paint.
"It's Lita and Jenny," Brenda whispered, taking his hand.
They were so beautiful he didn't want to think they were human, much less perfectly ordinary women whom he knew. Their bodies flickered and glowed in constant movement, the colors melting into each other. They danced, facing each other but a few feet apart, their arms outstretched. Don wasn't the fanciful type but he thought about magic, about the flight of legendary birds. A hundred other colorful images floated through his mind.
Then as they moved and turned, flowing into each other and gracefully pulling apart, he began to see the fantastically lewd designs painted on the bodies. But every time he identified an obvious, realistic penis painted on one girl's buttock, she moved, and he lost it.
But there was no losing the heavy emphasis on the girls' tits and asses. Concentric circles in glowing purple and red and pink accentuated Lita's breasts ... he could tell now which woman was which. The nipples shone with an aureole of gold and a scarlet center, like a bullseye. Jenny's tits were green and silver and chrome yellow.
The dance was definitely erotic. Their bodies moved and circled with beckoning arms, pelvic bumps, shaking breasts. They swayed slowly, sensually a few inches apart yet not touching. Now and then one would approach, hips moving in a fucking motion, while the other retreated. It was primitive and savage, yet fascinatingly beautiful. The music wove a spell around them and they seemed part of it.
It was like a primitive courtship dance, Don realized. His heart began to bump and he felt an almost irresistible impulse to rush out and join the erotic pair. Hearing little rustlings and indrawn breaths around him, he knew he wasn't the only one affected so strongly.
He had an idea what was going to happen, and it did. As the melody rose to a crashing climax, the two spun to the floor in a passionate embrace. The mouths locked in a long kiss, and then they reversed and attacked each other's genitals almost savagely.
The sounds of their groans and the slurping noises from their tongues could, be heard in spite of the music.
Brenda squeezed his hand. "They're just faking it, aren't they?"
"I suppose so," he lied.
The music ended, the lights came on and the two rose from the carpet, tired but radiant. Everyone crowded around, congratulating and thanking them.
Don wondered what Brenda was thinking.
"Okay, everybody!" Terry's voice rose above the hubbub. "Let's all get naked!"
Don was as spent as if he had been in the center of the floor with the two lascivious women, but he led Brenda into a bedroom where they could leave their clothes.
"They really weren't faking," she said. "Honey, they're not ... not queer," he tried to explain.
"I understand."
He wondered if he did. The way Bill had put it, it was very simple. Sex was sex and although men had strong feelings against homosexuality, women were more sensible.
He didn't think he could explain all that, even to himself.
"It turns a man on," he said, "to see two chicks doing it. And that dance ... wowie! Didn't it excite you too?"
"Yes... I was embarrassed to get so excited from it though."
"That's just because it's new to you," he told her.
Back in the living room, he marvelled again at how easy it was to get used to being naked among company. There was a heightened air of sexuality in the room from the erotic dance, but there was also a comfortable, companionable feeling.
Terry appeared and led Brenda off to get a drink.
Don looked around, feeling like a gourmet in a four-star French restaurant. There were so many beautiful bodies, breasts and asses that he was tempted to reach out and grab a handful of whatever he could reach. He thought about looking for one of the women he knew, Lita or Jenny or even his hostess, Mary. But that's how he started out last weekend. He wanted to do something really outrageous, not just sexy but wild.
He wanted to make love to a stranger; and if he never found out her name, that would be even better.
He zeroed in on a tall, slim girl with short dark hair. Her breasts were small and hard, but her rounding hips promised plenty of action.
"I'll get you a drink," he said, "if you'll walk to the kitchen with me. I don't want anybody snatching you away while I'm gone."
"Snatching me?" She laughed as she followed him, her hand on his arm. "Or didn't you mean to make a pun?"
Don discovered he was a little drunk but he gave the dark-haired girl a drink and found a vacant corner. She was a joker and a giggler but she shut up long enough for a few minutes of intense, exciting love-making. He came with an intensive force and leaned back against the wall while she giggled and chattered on.
Something was bothering him but he wasn't sure what it was.
Except that it had to do with Brenda.
He got to his feet somehow and made her an elaborate bow.
"I hate to fuck and run," he said seriously, "but I have something I have to do."
He left her there on the floor in a corner, still giggling and playing with herself, her hands busily rubbing her cunt.
Three drinks later, he remembered what it was he had to do. He needed to talk to Brenda, to get things straightened out. It had gone on like this too long. Maybe this wasn't the time, he thought, but no time like the present.
He wandered into a scene that reminded him of his experience with Jenny and Lita and Bill ... except that there were seven people involved. His eyes traced the curves of the bodies, trying to decide who was doing what to whom. One luscious looking doll was eating Jenny's cunt while she blew Terry, who had his face in a cunt that didn't look familiar at all. Lots of strange bodies around here, he thought. But none of them were Brenda's.
He was afraid he knew where she was. Or rather, not where, but with whom. The thought grew inside him, and the resentment. Regardless of what he'd decided, regardless of what Bill and Lita said, if his wife was with Guy again that was the end. He knew how stupid it was to be jealous, particularly in a situation like this. But all the same the anger grew inside him, bolstered by the amount of liquor he had drunk.
The party was wilder than last weekend's, more uninhibited, but in some ways it was awfully like the usual Saturday night in suburbia. He discovered this when he went back to the kitchen for another drink and found five or six men there, drinking and talking and telling jokes. Well, nobody could screw all the time! he thought. He stood and talked for a while, putting off the thorough search he knew he was going to make.
Then he blinked and a smile crept over his face. Right in the middle of the knot of men, looking as if he'd been there a while to judge from the overflowing ashtray, stood Guy.
Don's heart turned over and tension drained out of him.
Hastily he gulped his drink and headed for the doorway. This time he'd find Brenda and ... he smiled in anticipation ... he'd do something really different, really startling!
He was going to make love to his own wife!
It had been a long two weeks, or two and a half, he couldn't exactly remember. But whenever it had been that Lita had rung his doorbell and he had screwed her ... at her own invitation, he reminded himself ... his life had been a complete and utter mess.
Once he'd seen Guy in the kitchen, he was ready to admit it to himself. He was afraid of losing Brenda.
He'd never be able to understand why she had to have this thing about one man ... besides himself ... when she could have all the sex and companionship in the world through swinging. But the trouble was, as he'd lately discovered, it all began before they got into swapping. Before he even suggested it to her, in fact.
Don had the happy conviction many drunks have ... that he knew all the answers and could solve all the problems, if people would only listen to him.
He wandered through room after room, realizing that it was a big house but not that big. He wished he had a flashlight. But then, the others probably wouldn't appreciate his going around shining a light in their faces.
He found her at last. She was alone, huddled in a big chair in the living room, its wings and back nearly hiding her from view. Her legs curled up under her, she nursed a drink and looked unhappily into space.
Love for her flooded his heart as he pulled a footstool up close and took her hand. He didn't mean to say what he did, but it just came out.
"If you want Guy," he said roughly, "then have him. I won't stand in your way."
Tears flooded her eyes. "Oh no\ You just don't understand."
Chapter 12
"I wouldn't even want his child," she said viciously, "because it might turn out like him. And that's all I really wanted from him, darling, a child. I guess it was because it actually happened once ... I did get pregnant by him ... that I fixed on Guy." She hesitated, as if the words came hard. "But I believe everything Jenny told you is true. Oh, I. don't mean he's terrible or anything, just weak."
Don was completely bewildered. "But what is it then? Why are you sitting here like this?" He was afraid he knew. She'd been against swapping from the beginning.
"It's because of you, because I can't talk to you!" she burst out.
He tried to get his sluggish mind working but all he could think was that what she'd said was his complaint, not hers!
"But I've tried to talk to you all week and you shut me off."
"Oooohh! This is so frustrating," she said. "I talk but you don't believe it's important, or that I mean what I say! You won't even discuss adopting a child, and that's why I got the crazy idea of having one by someone else. I thought maybe once you saw it, you'd accept it as ours."
He shook his head and she said, "No, I realize that's out, I don't even like the idea myself. But having a child is important to me ... having a real family. You don't even give me any reason why not."
"I was ashamed, I guess," he admitted, "because I was sterile."
"You fool, to ruin everything for vanity!" When she put it that way, he could see he was wrong.
"Okay, well talk about it seriously," he said. "Well have a family, I promise you. And what else?"
"Oh, everything . .. Like your attitude toward my job. You won't take it seriously. I know it's not much of a job but all the same ..." her voice trailed off as if it were no use.
Don, even with his drink-muddled brain, had a sudden insight. All the time he was ready to condemn her for not communicating, he was the one who wasn't hearing what she was saying.
He tried to tell her that. It was hard to get out but she seemed to understand.
"I know you're drunk, honey," she told him, "but you'd better remember part of this conversation when you sober up."
"We don't have any real problems, just a mass of confusion," he told her and she agreed. "They talk about the seven-year itch, the time when marriages go stale. The ten-year itch must be even more serious!"
"I do understand a lot of it," she said, "and you're right, it's not that big a thing. But all the little things ... well, they do add up."
"Tell you what," Don said, "why don't we sneak in and get out clothes and then sneak out of here? Nobody will miss us."
"Yeah, and go get a hamburger? I'm starving!"
Half an hour later they sat in a drive-in, contentedly munching on hamburgers and french fries. Don's head had cleared and he told himself for the umpteenth time that he had to cut down on the drinking. He felt a pang of regret when he thought of the party, but Brenda was more important.
"Tell you what, honey. Why don't you phone Lita in the morning and explain it all to her? She'll understand better if you tell her yourself."
"Understand what?"
"Why you don't want to swing! What else?" "Oh, you stupid man!" She turned red in her rage. "What makes you think I don't want to swing? Did I ever say that ... I mean, since we started it?"
He had to admit she hadn't. "But I thought..."
"Unplug your ears and listen once!" Humbly he had to admit that he did, indeed, have a lot of listening to do. And he'd been ready to give her a lecture on communicating! he thought.
"Then you really do like these parties?" "Of course I do! It's just the tonic our marriage needs ... at least for a year or two. Who knows what'11 happen later?"
"After we have a family."
Her sigh came from deep inside. "Darling, thank you for saying that. I do love you, so very, very much."
At last he was getting on the track, saying the right thing. He wondered if all marriages had to go through a time like this, when the couple seemed to work at cross-purposes.
"So finish your hamburger and let's go!" "Go?"
"Back to the party, stupid! It should be going good by now!" And it was. Just as nobody had noticed them leave, nobody paid any attention when they returned. They felt conspicuous in their clothes and quickly shed them. Don knew he had been too worried earlier to enjoy himself but it should be a ball now.
A ball... balling. He wondered what happened to, the happy punster he'd laid earlier.
"See you around," Brenda said airily, running her hands down the sleek softness of her hips.
"Just one thing first." Nobody could do everything wrong all the time, not even him. "There's the most luscious piece around here that I've been trying to make for days and days ... her name's Brenda."
He walked her down the hall, his arm around her. And, just as if it were meant to be, the master bedroom was empty. Don pulled her inside and locked the door. "This one's a private affair," he said.
The bed lamp was on, giving just enough light for him to see his wife's luscious nakedness. He walked toward her slowly, the blood pounding in his veins, his dick swelling to hardness and poking out in front of him.
"You're the most exciting woman at this party," he said thickly. And knew he meant it.
He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the beat of her heart against his chest, touching the gentle yet fierce softness of her. It was as if this were the first time they'd ever been together. So much had happened, so many words and tears and bitter thoughts since the last time.
He squeezed her tighter as if he wanted to mold her permanently into his body. Her breasts, those white satin balloons he loved so well, were crushed against his chest. He felt as if somebody ... something ... was trying to take her away from him and he was defending his right to this marvelously desirable body. Her taut belly rubbed him and her tits poked into his flesh.
He bent to kiss her, at the same time shoving his hips forward so his cock was imprinted on her groin.
She rolled her hips suggestively and he grinned into her mouth, his cock throbbing at the motion.
Her lips were trembling under his. They parted as he forced his tongue between them.
It was beautiful and dream-like, as if they were alone in their own private Eden. She sucked at his tongue and the sensation instantly raced to his crotch. But for once he felt as if he had plenty of time, and he wanted to make her happy as she so often did for him. He turned her gently and seated her on the bed.
"Spread your legs, sweetheart," he whispered.
Bliss spread over her face as he knelt in front of her, pushing back her knees until she clasped them in her arms. His head went forward and penetrated her muff, finding the narrow slit already slick and open. His tongue lapped at her pussy and then he sucked her clit, making a vacuum around it in which his tongue worked actively.
Brenda gasped with delight. He gauged her reactions carefully, playing with her, keeping her right at the verge of climax for long moments. She was whimpering and squealing by that time, her hands digging deep into her ankles as she wriggled her bottom on the edge of the bed.
"Lover, lover, it's so good! So wonderful!"
He stopped and looked up at her. "It'll be even better soon!"
He wanted her to come now, and again when he fucked her. His heart was so full of love and thankfulness, he'd like to keep her here for days and make love to her. If he could, he'd make her come a hundred times! he thought.
He renewed his assault on her small but sensitive organ, pausing now and then to lick the pink cunt lips that trembled at his touch. He knew every sensitive spot. He kept it up until she moaned and fell back on the bed, her legs kicking out wildly.
He was on top of her before she stopped moaning, pushing her into place, poising his dick at the wonderfully familiar spot. Slowly and dreamily, he fucked her while waiting for her passion to rise again. He could wait, he could do anything to please her.
Her cunt was slick and hot from her orgasm. This time he worked on her gradually, bringing her to the point of coming time after time but stopping just before she toppled over the brink.
She twisted and cried under him, in between warm wet kisses.
He knew how this slow, deliberate fucking could rouse her in the end, to almost unbearable pleasure. Once when he'd done the same thing, she'd even fainted when she came. He wanted her to have all that happiness again.
It had been a tiring, emotional day and they both rested for a while, his cock still firmly in place. Don even dozed, waking to see her eyes alight with mischief as she pinched his buttocks.
That did it! he thought. He retaliated by squeezing her breasts, licking and sucking her nipples, making them stand out high and rigid.
Then he fucked into her harder and faster. They knew each other and each other's bodies so well, they moved in fast-beating harmony. They moaned softly together and she wrapped her legs around his moving back.
"Now, Don, now!" she cried urgently.
"Oh yes! Here I come!"
He slammed down hard on her and with their bodies pressed tightly together, felt, the warm sperm shoot into her waiting cunt.
It was, as he had hoped, one of her more exciting climaxes. He could tell by the way she clutched at him, her nails clawing his back and her legs tightening convulsively. She moaned against his neck, saliva seeping out of the corners of her mouth.
"Don . .. Don ... I'll never leave you, you know that," she said faintly.
"You'd better not try! I'll chain you to the bedpost!"
They laughed together, knowing that a long crisis had passed but knowing too that they couldn't just let it go at that. They'd have to work at their marriage and not take it for granted any longer. He thought with amazement that it was such a fragile thing, their love and life together. But at the same time, it was as strong as a steel chain binding them.
Don looked at his watch which he'd forgotten to take off, and saw it was barely one in the morning. From the sound of things, the party was still going strong. Once out of his spell of sexuality, he could hear voices and music and glasses clinking.
The doorknob turned, and then slipped back.
"We're hogging the bedroom," he said cheerfully. "I'll unlock it but let's take a shower together before we join the party."
They walked out of the bathroom hand in hand.
The first person they saw was Guy.
Don checked himself, to see if he still felt a twinge of jealousy. Nope! he thought. Guy wasn't the problem ... he never had been. If only they'd had the sense to realize it.
Come to think of it, Guy was a damn good looking fellow and well built, too. He couldn't blame Brenda for wanting a taste of that.
Cheerfully unconcerned, he handed his wife over to her former lover.
"There's plenty to go around," he said, "just don't forget it really belongs to me."
